Meta Gamer in Equestria: Champion's Folly

by reflective vagrant

Lockdown and Tentions. (Unslayable Foes, part 5)

Author's Note:

I swear I had this arc planned way back, long before the covid stuff.

With the countermeasures of the epidemic now in full swing, the town had changed. No more where there ponies traveling the streets with a good cheer. Instead, the only ponies in the streets were the guards, local mail service and volunteers delivering supplies and messages. Although there were exceptions for absolute emergencies, all non essential personnel were essentially ordered into house arrest.

What surprised me was how effectively they were able to enforce it with so little need for actual force.

"Princess Celestia has ruled for centuries." Plasma Wave explained it to me while we walked to Sugar Cube Corner, "Historically, she has been extremely hesitant to impose her will on the populace to such a degree. Combined with a few times that she has and ponies didn't cooperate with her, only to have the very thing she said she was trying to prevent happen, ponies have come to respect her emergency royal decrees."

I could only shake my head and sigh. "That's not the kind of reputation any of my home world's leaders have had. They might be known for not imposing on the people in every last aspect of their lives, or have the sheer power to not have the populace question them in an emergency. But unless a nation was straight up under foreign attack, no powerful free nation was ever properly behind their leaders. Too much infighting. Too much Bureaucracy. Too much hatred to see the bigger problems."

I looked back up at the street, with guards tending to the delivery of rationed supplies to each house. "Which is why it is kinda nice to see the sheer amount of cooperation here, and the fact that the one in charge won't be tempted to abuse the emergency power for her own ends."

"Hello again, Mr Cake," I heard Plasma Wave call out. I saw him looking at the local baker standing at the entrance to his shop. Without me realizing it, we had reached our destination.

"Ah, yes. And am I to presume this is the nice gentlecolt that will be stationed here to help us restore some of the town's lost supplies?"

I noticed his words seemed to be genuine but not confident and I almost gave a giddy grin when I realized I understood why, completely on my own.

With my classes in Equestrian coming to fruition, I came to understand the way pronouns and subject specific word pronunciations of different words not only expanded to include gender like some languages on earth. They would often also include species when referring to a creature, but it didn't really have any good forms for humanoids.

Normally, the locals would use a work around word or phrase without being rude and had worked wonders in the past when I was still new to this world, but formal greetings never had such a luxury even back then. So, knowing it was a genuine greeting despite the awkward state it put the baker in, I chose to meet him half way. I simply mentally swallowed the awkwardness, right along with any hint of pride I may or may not have felt, smiled and nodded politely at the verbatim translation.

"I'm not sure how well it will work, as it's untested, but I think my partner and I have a spell that can help with getting some of the contaminated food to be edible again."

"Indeed, indeed." The baker gestured us inside. The once joyful bakery had been stripped down into a veritable shell of its former self. The front area was transformed into a small storage warehouse with piles of flour stacked to the ceiling. Peeking into the kitchen, I saw what I suspected was a testing facility set up to test the food that was still good and separate it from the stuff that had gone bad. I had to do a double take, though, as it had an immediate appearance of what I suspected a makeshift meth lab might look like.

"Starlight and Sunburst informed me of your uncertainty and made sure to train my wife on how to test the food they bring in to us and separate the bad stuff out. We already have some contaminated flour set aside for you to do your thing with. Once we get a clean test back, we'll be sending another sample to the formal labs to test properly. After that... hopefully gets confirmed clean, we'll do what we can to help you set up for doing your thing in bulk."

* * *

About two hours later, I sat cross legged on the pillow the Cakes had offered me. My brow had a slight bead of sweat and my hands moved methodically in front of me, guided by whims that came to me in the moment, almost like second nature. But I knew it wasn't "natural" at all.

Across the room, perched on a pony sized chair provided for him was Archimedes. Though he could move his owl form and fly about freely, to ensure we were doing this right he elected to stay calm and close and give our task his undivided attention. Words moved freely from his mind straight to my lips. I did not even hear what I was about to say until I said it. It was not his bond as a familiar that he used, but as my substitute divine catalyst. It was his knowledge of the spell that I was actually using to build up the energy needed, not my own.

With a sudden surge of the power I had collected over the last ten minutes, I thrust my hands forward. A swirl of blue haze that was starting to build around me moved forward and clung itself to the sacks, sinking in.

I have a sigh, wiped my brow and press my amulet before looking at the baker.

"There, I think that's the tenth batch."

"Eleventh, actually. I was about to tell you we were done when I finished moving the tenth, but you were already well into that one."

I gave him a raised eyebrow and a huff. "Well, you already had it set aside for me. I figured the ones keeping track of the samples would have a better clue."

He looked at me sheepishly.

"Actually, that was just the remainder of what was left of that segment of storage. I didn't set it in place for you. You just looked so intent, and you said that if you were interrupted that you would have to start over."

I just shook my head and stood up to stretch. With a slight crackling of my spine as I arched backwards, I sighed and came back to a stand, nodding in agreement. "Well, knowing Starlight and Sunburst, I doubt they will complain about an extra sample."

While the baker did his thing and started taking the extra sample, Speaks with Talons shook his head and approached me.

"You have been trying to teach us how to cast quickly like you, and now you show that you are able to cast slowly like us. Why do you not cast all of your spells like this?"

Archimedes bobbed his head in a way I could recognize as a silent laugh before catching himself.

"It's not that simple. Only a small number of the spells I have access to can be charged slowly like this. Most spells engineered for spell slots aren't designed to be able to be woven without the sheer energy of a spell slot fueling it. It would take major adaptation that is just way too far above my skill. This is actually a part of why I couldn't mimic any of your guys' spells until I accidentally saw you pulling off your signature spell."

I looked at the flour I had purified being put into a transport vial by Mr Cake, then went about popping my neck and shoulders.

"Most healing spells can't do this. I'm not sure if it's because of the flow against entropy like Starlight said or not. Either way though, the end result is that I'm stuck with using my spell slots on 'real' healing spells. This is kinda an exception because it isn't actually 'healing' anything, as the stuff is already dead. It's just being 'purified.'"

"Officer Plasma Wave?" The baker called out in the direction of the store's restroom, "Are you about ready? I'm getting the last sample packed up now."

"Just about. This last strap is being difficult."

Plasma Wave came out of the bathroom, his side with his crippled wing still slightly moist from him doing some mid day care to it. The bulk of his harness that held his wing was on secure, but the part that held the artificial feathers tight to the remainder of his natural wing was still hanging slack, making the artificial feathers dangle.

"The wing got roughed up my first day in the jail making sure the inmates knew I could hold my own even if I was crippled. I adjusted it back as best I could but I need to send it in to Keen Wit so that he can get the thing done back up right. He is the only one that really understands all the inner workings of his mechanism inside and out."

He gave one last bite at the last strap, then sighed in a huff. Turning to us he gave a look of a proud stallion that didn't want to do what he knew he needed to do. With an eyeing of the griffin's sharp talons, then my hands, he turned to me.

"Moss, do you mind pulling this last strap to tighten it down while I keep my wing straight? I have to keep it like that to get it lined up now and it makes pulling the strap even more awkward than before."

With an understanding smile, I came over and got the strap in my hand, ready to tug at his signal.

He got his wing into position then signaled me with a simple, "Now."

I tugged firmly and latched it into place. Immediately, I felt him stiffen up and almost buckle his knees.

"I'm sorry! are you al-" I tried to ask before the ankle of his front hoof was promptly shoved almost literally into my mouth.

"I'm fine. The wing just..." He took a pained breath, coming out of it. "My wing gets rubbed a little on the raw side through the day anyway, and today its a bit tingly from the circulation being a little constricted this morning."

With a moment more to get his stance back under him, he looked at me and nodded in gratitude. "But it looks like a few more adjustments in the bathroom did improve it. Honestly, I was expecting it to hurt more."

With just another moment to equip the saddlebags that carried the samples inside, Plasma Wave was out the door and delivering the samples to Starlight and Sunburst.

With that set, I went back over to the wall where the contaminated flour had been piled up and tried to lift, only to have trouble trying to move the large sack of flour.

"Hey there. Take it easy. You've been doing this for almost two hours straight," the baker called out, gesturing to the chair where Archimedes perched, "There isn't a single unicorn I know that doesn't get at least a little tuckered out after keeping their magic up for that long. On top of that, unlike you, they can do it naturally. Take a break."

* * *

"So Fluttershy is working hard to keep one of the diseases from spreading through the animal populations? Knowing that some will have to be isolated and possibly die alone to save the other animals must be breaking her heart."

Speaks with Talons was giving me the run down of what was happening around town as we sat down and simply did nothing for a few minutes to reset ourselves like the bakers asked. The baker had even brought us some mugs of water to boot.

While him and his brothers still had to adhere to a lot of safety rules, as apprentices, they were considered Claps to Thunder's assistants. Therefor, they were allowed to move about town without nearly as much restriction.

Out of all of the brothers, however, Speaks with Talons didn't have a task to perform. He was no longer ambassador of the tribal collective. On top of that, though he did have some effective, if simple, magic for helping him hunt, his ability to perform healing magic was just barely at a rudimentary level. Keeling himself over to stabilize a mortal wound was about all he could do in that regard.

"Yes, and the Fey of Far Everfree have been informed about the situation. At least, the messenger was able to clearly yell out the decree that the squadron was quarantined to the forest for the time being as changing the guards could introduce the disease to their forest and the guards. I can only presume the squadron passed it on successfully. The Speaker hasn't appeared to any outsider again since the Crystal Sister let him go back to his village. I fear I may have to resume the duty as Fey ambassador if he doesn't appear soon."

Archimedes leaned over and looked at me. "At least he would have something to do besides follow us."

Stifling a laugh before it came out, I looked back at him, causing Speaks with Talons to notice him as well.

"Oh, now that was rude," I called out to my familiar to show some respect to my friend, who I knew had learned to read the owl and know when he was communicating with me.

"But definitely funny," I finished privately.

"So what is the thing with your brothers?" I asked, changing the subject, "They seemed bitter towards you at the meeting, especially the youngest."

Speaks with Talons looked at me like I had discovered a secret shame of his. Closing his eyes in pain, he answered, "I suppose you deserve to know. While the tribes have been balancing keeping the old ways with adapting it with more modern thinking, there is an old tradition among the tribal griffins that we still hold sacred because it kept us from dying out long ago. In order to keep alliances strong, it is a custom for the high shaman to marry a single member from each of the tribes and produce at least one child from each. This is why it is rare for a female to aspire to become high shaman. We have long since stopped forcing our kind to take on roles traditional for their gender. The roles are still commonly filled the traditional way by choice, but occasional exceptions do happen. Despite this fact, though, the position of High Shaman is one females do not really seek, as they would not be able to produce the expected amount of children without great risk to their health."

I nodded, absorbing what he said, but failed to understand where he was going.

"So... That sounds like it would affect your sisters, if you have any, more than your brothers. How does this relate back to them?"

Speaks with Talons nodded and gave a quiet, merry laugh. "Yes. I have four half sisters and a full sister in the Raven Tribe. All of them have developed their own strengths. All of them have a grace and beauty that would make their mothers proud. Some very talented, some quite brave, and none of them lazy or cowardly."

Speaks with Talons lost all sense of merriment and became quite focused as he stared at nothing in particular, but still stared intensely.

"My father has only four sons, including my self. But there are six tribes. The sisters I have from the other two tribes did not become apprentices, believing there would be another brother born eventually."

He took a deep breath and exhaled. Pain swelling as he muscled through it like the warrior he was. "But that all changed when Listens in Anger, my youngest brother, was born. His mother died giving birth to him, after already being warned not to carry another child after his elder sister was born.

"After that, my father decreed that he would have no more children, that he would not endanger any more of his wives, nor take another from the Hawk Tribe to replace her."

Speaks with Talons looked at me in a knowing fashion. "Yes, Listens in Anger's mother was a hawk griffin, and my father's childhood beloved while growing up among them. Listens in Anger was cursed with the eagle blood of our ancestors running thick enough through his own blood to show. In spite of this, him and his full sister were the only ones ever truly conceived in love, and our father took him in in spite of the death of his mother while birthing an eagle head was shunned by the Hawk Tribe."

Despite having a great amount of heartache, he lifted his head up in pride. "You have to understand. Griffins can only ever truly have one love. The high shaman is expected to take multiple mates, not privileged. Even a common griffin ave sometimes mated with the beloved of sibling that circumstances prevented them from having a child, allowing them to have the closest thing to their sibling's child they can, but they only ever desire a single lover. It's an instinct that is embedded into our very core."

He hung his head down in an even greater pain than before. This was different, though. This was personal.

"Every griffin who has found a beloved, then lost them early on can understand his plight. Despite the ramifications to the process of electing a new high shaman after his eventual death by having so few apprentices, he still chose to weep for her. Like any griffin with a sensitive heart, he still weeps to this day."

Not wanting to pry into the personal pain, I tried to move the conversation forward. "So your father's title is hereditary?"

He swayed his head side to side, slowly. "Not exactly. A child of the high shaman can be the next, but it can also pass on to a more experienced shaman previously dedicated to a single village, depending on the deliberations and eventual vote. But the thing is, with only four apprentices, two of which are not well received among the shamans, the chance of another high shaman being voted in outside the family is likely, and could cause some uproar.

"An apprentice from each village is not only allowed, but expected. Taking on a second from one or two villages after the eldest has grown up is not uncommon too.

"High shamans are meant to be unbiased. Our mixed blood line is meant to embody this. While not meant to be the majority, local shamans are usually enough to sway the vote when two brothers have fought in the past. But with completely fresh blood holding the title, many of the tribes will question their unbiased position. They would see it as a shaman seizing an opportunity for power, especially with the local shamans out numbering the apprentices. It should not amount to full on war, but it will cause tensions to rise until the new high shaman proves themselves unbiased. This is hard to do when every decision you make is believed to be for your own tribe, or as a token sacrifice to allow later or greater decisions be in bias to one's native tribe."

After his long explanation, he let his burden come to full bear as he placed a talon on my shoulder.

"It was believed both of us were taken in and kept on as apprentices as a way to help prevent this. Neither I nor my youngest brother are admired among the High Shaman's apprentices, but with the number of apprentices so low, no chief has dared challenge it. He has always seen me as the one brother he could best to prove himself. Despite my temper, I have constantly let him do what he nee-"

The door to the bakery slammed open. There stood Listens in Anger, winded, with a glare befitting his name directed straight at Speaks with Talons.

"Fake apprentice! I need to speak! Come here!"

While I had to hold myself back, I didn't even see Speaks with Talons so much as flinch. What an outsider might see as a look of defeat in his eyes, I saw the pained love of a brother patiently dealing with his brother's antics.

With a firm stride, Speaks with Talons went to his brother and stood at attention. With his brother in place, Listens in Anger let loose.

"You dare to call yourself a healer!?"

Speaks with Talons didn't flinch.

"You are nothing more than a brave that learned a few tricks to aid hunting down his prey! You do not know how to heal even in a team! Let alone on your own! The only 'healing' you know is how to cauterize and dress a battle wound!"

While this may have been true when I met him, Speaks with Talons did know how to heal today, albeit at a steep price. Yet still, he simply stood there and took it in.

Meanwhile, I tightened my grip on my mug and drank deeply, finishing off the water so as to not waste it.

"He could have easily picked any of our sisters to take your place when I surpassed your talent years ago! You should not have been at that meeting, let alone-!"

He stopped in mid sentence when my wooden mug hit the side of his arm. I had actually been aiming for his head, but it got the job done.

"That's enough!" I shouted while marching up to them, "If you haven't noticed, there's an epidemic going on! Now's not the time to be fighting among ourselves!"

When Speaks with Talons reached up and put his face in his talon, I knew I had messed up.

"This is none of your business, outsider! We-"

"What is going on here?" I heard a new voice call out.

Stepping in beside his youngest brother, I saw the owl headed griffin from before in a well decorated medicine mask.

"Searches for Stars!" I heard the youngest call out in confidence. "This outsider has come and assaulted me on our mission! But stay back, I do not need anygriff's protection."

He looked at Speaks with Talons with a purpose to his glare. "Not since I was a cub, not anymore."

I thought I was going to be backed into a corner, either metaphorically, or possibly even literally.

The owl griffin calmly looked around and saw the state of the room. He glanced at the mug, at me, at Speaks with Talons still holding his face, and then something at his youngest brother's side that I couldn't see.

"Perhaps you do not know who this is, Listens in Anger. So stay true to your namesake for a moment and hear what I have learned by seeking knowledge since we have arrived instead of dwelling in the past: This is Moss, known to the few local servants as the Beast-kin. He is also the battle brother of Speaks with Talons."

"That does not give him the right to assault me!"

Searches for Stars gave a cold stare at his brother. He wasn't nearly as poised as their father, but was definitely the most reserved of the brothers. The kind that would use wisdom to assess and resolve a conflict with as little energy wasted as possible.

"It does when you run ahead of me the moment I point out our destination, then fail to deliver what we were meant to deliver by the time I caught up just to pick a fight with Speaks with Talons and blame the fight on him, again."

The youngest brother broke his self righteous posturing and leaned back a little at this.

Turning to me, then back at the youngest, he continued.

"This is a fight you picked. You will now face it alone."

Turning back to me, he gave a tiny, respectful nod of recognition. "Do what you must. I will not interfere in this quandary, nor seek retribution. But please do make sure he can continue to function. The need for healers is great."

Now suddenly called out, Listens in Anger turned to me and snarled.

"You should know-"He started to ramble.

"You should know your place!" I cut him off and yelled even louder, posturing in an "I'm ready to fight" stance. "We're trying to save lives and all you can do is whip out your shlong and demand a pissing contest!?"

With his momentum properly broken, at least unless he outright wanted to get into a physical brawl, I lowered my voice enough to not call it yelling, but didn't back my posture down in the slightest.

"I get the practical part of what you're saying, I really do. He can't help with the healing. That doesn't mean he is useless. So, for the sake of the mission, I'm going to let this slide, but..."

I came in real close, like I could have stuck out my tongue and possibly touched his beak with it, close.

"If you insist on continuing to just use that beak of yours to keep badmouthing my battle brother instead of focusing on the crisis, I will have no choice but to find you and formally remove it!"

Cocking his head as I backed off, he jested, "Right. What are you going to do? Challenge me to that brutal rite of standing? I may not be as honed as my brutish brother, but I think I could still take..."

His words died in his throat as he tilted his head up to meet the gaze of the polar bear that just appeared in the place I was standing.

With only two seconds of eye contact, he coughed and started over.

"Beast... Kin... Right! We have a mission. We don't need to be fighting among ourselves." Turning to Speaks with Talons, he spoke in a carefully measured tone. "Brother."

With the message received, I turned back just in time to see the youngest bring forth the mask that their father had worn the day before.

"While I do not feel right about this, our father has made his decision. Now that his own mask has been outfitted to work with the ponies' needs, he is allotting you this medicine mask temporarily."

Looking at the mask presented and comparing it to the mask that the eldest brother had, I noticed it was remarkably simple, like a basic mask made in a hurry, verses a well worn mask that had been customized and changed over at least a few years. It was like looking at a proper machete compared to the tiny blade of a basic pocket knife or multi tool. They served the same function, but there was no comparison beyond that.

Searches for Stars spoke up, calmly and in a reserved voice, "Sings to Canopy and Listens in Anger have also gotten their masks modified and we will be staying here to tend to the sick while our teacher and the other masters have been asked by the Crystal Sister to tend to a more populated area. In the meantime, our teacher has reflected on Zecora's reports of your progress and has determined you have advanced enough to help her students finish a basic circle to aid in the simpler task of purifying the town's food and water."

The youngest sneered at this last part, but took a breath and continued the directions.

"While you and the Zebra's students are being allotted impromptu masks, this does not mean you have advanced enough to consider the mask your own. When this crisis is over, you are to clean, disassemble and return the mask to us to be burned."

"Oh, and one more thing," the eldest interrupted again, "There is one more piece of news I was to relay. While the Plague Artifact was properly recovered from the enemy and secured in the attack, some creature broke into the vault holding all the other items confiscated on your recent mission. The only description I could understand was that it was two legged, dark skinned, and roughly your size, Cousin Beast-kin."

All the energy that was making my blood lean towards boiling from the tension suddenly dropped out as my blood went cold instead.

"Not again." I heard Archimedes call out in shock.

My lips quivered as the word I was dreading left them.

"Dalock..."