Chapter 11: Focused
Foxfire woke up to an extreme close up of her bedroom floor and an aching nose. Pushing herself up with her forehooves, she looked back at her bed, barely lit by the first glow of the coming day and saw a taut piece of clothesline stretching from one bedpost to her left rear hoof.
You were controlling my body in my sleep, weren’t you? was the growled thought the unicorn sent within herself, even as she used her magic to untie the loose knot keeping the rope coiled around her pastern. You gave me your word you wouldn’t try anything like this.
I said I would not, unless lives were at stake, came the Umbral’s reply, from it’s home deep in the fabric of the pony’s mind. I have kept my word.
The chill that swept through Foxfire quenched her fiery rage is if it had never been, as she realized the Umbral’s meaning. Who?
You must attend to your consort with haste, my host, provided the Umbral. He has done something… excessively impossible, I fear.
To the end of her days, as either Foxfire or Jean Pedersen, the unicorn would never be able to remember how she got from her bedroom to the workshop garage of Arnold Kye. And though others would later report a series of charred, pony shaped holes through each and every door that had stood between Foxfire and her Iron Heart, Foxfire only knew that one moment she was in her bedroom, and in the next heartbeat she was standing over the fallen body of the other half of her soul.
“ARN!” ripped the shout from Foxfire’s muzzle as she dived forward to check his body. Relief filled the unicorn as even her admittedly poor medical skills were able to detect a pulse.
What’s happened to him? the white unicorn asked the Umbral. What’s going on here?
I can learn that, and perhaps be of aid, my host, replied the dark spirit of sorcery. But you must allow me control of your body and magic for a short period.
NO! Foxfire fired back, with instant and furious denial. I will never let anything or anyone use me against my will again. NEVER!
This will not be done against your will, the Umbral reasoned, its words soft as silk, But rather by it. You shall be as my Queen, giving needed tools to I, your lowly servant.
Wait, what? asked Foxfire, fear beginning to grip and confuse her as she realized that Iron Heart’s breathing was gently slowing down.
Your Majesty, the Umbral began deferentially, Please allow your humble aid access to the tools needed to discover the condition of your consort, and possibly to render aid to him, before it is too late. I swear, I shall return control of your body and magic to you within one minute.
One minute? Foxfire asked, worry over Iron Heart rapidly eroding her determination. You swear it?
I do, my Queen affirmed the creature. One minute and no more, unless you directly ask me to remain.
Alright. Do it, commanded the unicorn, bracing herself.
A moment later Foxfire felt a strange pressure against her eyes and almost a “pop” of disconnection, as the Umbral pushed her consciousness back from being the dominant force in their mind. Had someone else been in the workshop at the time, they would have seen the white unicorn change her entire posture, adopting a regal pose and poise, even as wisps of a dark purple haze began to leak from the corner of her eyes and her horn.
The Umbral called magic to itself, inhaling as it did so with a smile of deep satisfaction on its face. For a moment the creature just held itself there, simply savouring the touch of reality again before letting loose an echoing pulse of magic into the workshop. A delicate eyebrow raised at the six returning echoes that bounced back from Iron Heart and the five freshly minted blades that lay around him like a fan.
Well? demanded Foxfire in the shared vault of their mind. What’s wrong with him?
“He is dying, my Queen,” replied the Umbral aloud, revelling in the sound of its voice, rich and full. “He has expended all his strength, all of his magic, and more beyond even that. He simply has nothing left with which to sustain his life.”
Is there anything we can do? Foxfire asked, trying not to sound desperate.
“Yes, but I warn you, there will be a price,” stated the Umbral, still speaking aloud for the sheer joy of it. The bright cheery tones at complete odds with their grim surroundings.
Name it, Foxfire commanded, suspecting what the Umbral was going to say.
“You lack the knowledge and control necessary to bolster his life with your magic, without blowing Iron Heart apart. However, it is just such a magical infusion of strength that is needed to preserve his life until other aid can arrive,” the Umbral stated plainly. “Had you allowed me to teach you how to forge your crown, you would have the power and focus necessary to the task, even without training. But you did not, and so this is now the only option.”
What. Do you want? grated out Foxfire, instinctively knowing the Umbral was right and hating the creature for it.
“Permission to remain in control of your body and your magic until medical help arrives and takes over,” replied the creature.
The being that had been Jean Pedersen froze as a thousand suppressed memories bore through her, as fresh and raw as when she had first experienced those moments of time. Of the man she had once loved and married, only to learn that he was a shell of a man that hid a monster inside. Of how that monster had used and abused her, controlling her through mental and physical pain, every moment of every day.
She remembered how that beast had used modern technology to make her little more than a slave in her own home, threatening the lives of herself and her infant daughters if she disobeyed him in the slightest. And she remembered of how the Old Ways had been her salvation. Of how the magic and ways of a wood witch had given her both a way out and the will to use it.
Very well, Foxfire answered, her voice and will now steeled by those memories of trials past. You have my permission to remain in control, but only until medical personnel take over. And if you try to keep me bottled up in my own mind for one second more than necessary you can be sure that I will make you regret it.
“I understand, my Queen,” acknowledged the Umbral, who began moving various bits of bric-a-brac away from the fallen earth pony with speed and precision. That is until it went to move one of the five bronze swords to one side and froze in place, magic aura a hoof width away from the golden blade.
Why are you stopping? asked Foxfire, watching from behind smokey purple eyes. Hurry up and help him!
“In Nomine Nocte,” Foxfire heard whispered from lips she no longer controlled, as a body she no longer controlled used a piece of dowling to push the offending blade away. “I am sorry, my Queen. I was just clearing a workspace.”
To Foxfire’s intense relief she saw a dark purple haze begin to flow out of her body and into Iron Hoof. Immediately his breathing began to steady and deepen as magic flowed into him, bolstering and strengthening the fallen pony.
“We are in time,” declared the Umbral, continuing to stream power in a steady, measured flow. “Your consort will live and though he is not a unicorn or a mage, I now declare him to be worthy of your greatness and a proper sire for your foals.”
What brought this on? Foxfire asked, relief allowing curiosity to blossom. Up until now you’ve barely tolerated him, or any other pony that isn’t a unicorn for that matter. What’s changed?
“I have listened to your conversations with your pegasus servants across the street,” replied the Umbral, still speaking aloud as it referred to the Hardings. “I have heard Thunder refer to some of your ancient weapons of power and legend. Durandel, Gungnir, Gram, Kusanagi, and Excalibur, for example.”
And? prompted Foxfire, getting an odd feeling of disbelieving wonder from the Umbral.
“And this night, your Iron Heart has forged such blades,” stated the Umbral, regarding each golden blade in turn. “Not once, but five times. Though even the attempt should have been impossible, though the effort should have cost him his life, he has created weapons truly worthy of you and and your progeny. A word of warning, however.”
Oh? Foxfire asked.
“Do not allow anyone to touch the blades, even with magic, until all of those meant to wield these weapons are present,” cautioned the Umbral. “Even then, be sure that you are present as well. I will teach you the necessary spell matrix needed to prevent disaster.”
What? Why? demanded Foxfire’s consciousness, frustration growing at what the Umbral was telling her.
“When Iron Heart made these blades, he was… he did not… I am not sure how to explain this to you so you can understand it,” began the Umbral.
Try, Foxfire growled back. and call Medevac while you’re at it.
“Yes, my Queen,” obediently responded the Umbral, plucking an old style handset from its mounting rack on the shop wall. “The best way that I can describe the situation is that Iron Heart managed to rip five shards of pure magic from the aether, and physically bind them into the bodies of the weapons he forged. They are unfixed, raw, in pain, and bleeding from being dragged from their proper place in the scheme of things to a realm foreign to them.”
Are they alive then? Foxfire asked, anger abating now that she was getting her asked for explanation.
“It is one of those things that is hard to explain. They are, yet they are not. The shards do not think, they have neither hopes nor dreams, but they do feel. And at this moment what they feel is the pain of separation from their home, and they will attempt to bury that pain in whatever living thing touches them. A moment,” the Umbral explained as it dialed a number into the phone, and spoke as the line connected. “Lady Medevac, your skills are required at the workshop of Iron Heart. Your Queen commands you attend her there immediately.”
You didn’t have to be so… demanding, Foxfire commented, as her puppetted body hung the phone back up. A little politeness wouldn’t have hurt.
“She is a member of your court, as is Lady Windweaver,” the Umbral said, as if to a particularly slow student. “You already command their allegiance. It is within your rights to command their obedience as well, particularly in matters of import.”
There is a difference between “command” and “demand”, remonstrated Foxfire, using the exact same tone the Umbral had used on her. Go on with your explanation, please.
“As you say, my Queen,” answered the Umbral, its tone meeker as it accepted the mild rebuke. “Iron Heart forged each blade with a specific individual in mind, and because the shards are now a part of those weapons, they are attuning themselves to that purpose. Should any but the intended wielder pick them up, the shards will react… violently.”
Dear Artemis, breathed Foxfire, or would have had she needed to breath. Will they always be like that?
“Only time will tell, or divulge what virtues and virulences the shards carry with them, into this world,” answered the Umbral, pausing for a moment to listen. “Good. Lady Medevac approaches swiftly, obeying the command of her Queen.”
A few heartbeats later a red and white winged pegasus appeared in the doorway, her heaving sides wrapped in a harness festooned with pouches, all of which bore the red cross of her calling. Pausing in place to survey the scene, and tilting her head in curiosity at the dark purple mist flowing from Foxfire to Iron Heart, Medevac spoke two words by way of greeting; “What happened?”
“No word of greeting for your Queen?” chastised the Umbral Foxfire. “Not even a display of fealty upon your arrival at your sovereign’s summons?”
“Foxfire? Jean?” asked Medevac, confused. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you okay? What about Iron Heart? What happened?”
Foxfire opened her mouth to respond, but paused for a moment, tilting her head as if listening to something before actually speaking, “I am your Queen’s servant, the Umbral. Our Queen is allowing me to control her body and her power so that we may sustain the life of her consort, Iron Hoof, with our magic. Your skills are needed in order to take my place so that your Queen may return to control her body.”
“Oookay,” replied Medevac, warily as her trained eye looked for any dangers in the room. “What happened?”
“We found him collapsed like this,” the Umbral began, laying out what had been believed to have happened and what had been done before finishing with, “when this is done, I would be pleased to show you the proper bow of a pegasus to her Queen. It is a thing of grace and beauty.”
“I’m Canadian, we already have a queen,” was Medevac’s almost absent response as she brushed her feathers along the length of Iron Heart’s body. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. His blood sugar is zero, and his system isn’t even trying to metabolize any of his fat reserves... Which are completely gone as well.”
“Can you help him?” asked Umbral Foxfire, intensely. “Our Queen is most insistent that you do all in your power to save her consort.”
“It’s just a matter of giving his body a kickstart along with some fuel to burn,” Medevac said, slapping the quick release of her harness and laying out her gear. “Once we get him conscious again, all we need to do is get enough calories into his system to sustain him until good old food can take over.”
Medevac had practiced long and diligently to retrain her medical skills for what she considered to be her true body, and it showed as her wings and feathers moved automatically, opening pouches and drawing out the equipment needed to run a field IV. BC Emergency Health Services had insisted that Medevac redo her qualification test as a “Primary Care Paramedic,” and had been so impressed at her skill and experience that they had bumped her up to “Community Paramedic,” making her officially in charge of the physical health of Brightly.
“Give me the phone,” demanded Medevac, now in full doctor mode as she effortlessly slid a needle into a waiting vein in Iron Heart’s leg.
“I beg your pardon,” replied Umbral Foxfire, in an offended tone. “Is that any way to speak to your Queen?”
“Give me the damn phone!” snapped Medevac, to the Umbral, who passed it over in fuming silence.
Never get in the way of a physician with a patient, Foxfire told the Umbral, laughter in her mental voice. They don’t give a damn about hurt feelings, just hurt bodies.
She needs some time under rein and a bridle to teach her respect for her betters, snarled the Umbral. In Unicornia, they would flog—
YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING! thundered Foxfire, her voice a whip crack of fury.
My Queen! protested the Umbral. Such disrespect cannot go unpunished.
The person of a physician is sacrosanct, Foxfire shot back. It is one of humanity’s oldest and most highly regarded traditions, that those who heal will be protected and respected by ALL. You will under NO CIRCUMSTANCES break that convention, and besides, she’s my friend.”
As you command, my Queen, replied the Umbral, grumpily.
“See you in a bit, Kevin,” Medevac finished saying into the phone, oblivious to the byplay going on between the Umbral and Foxfire. “Okay, Kevin should be here with the bus in about five minutes or so. The plan is to treat him like a diabetic in hypoglycemic shock along with a couple of stimulants to kickstart his metabolism.”
“And this will restore him?” queried the Umbral, tilting Foxfire’s head in curiosity.
“It should, I’m running an IV of dextrose into him now,” said Medevac, one red and white wing hanging a clear bag on a small base stand she had set up. “We’ll give that a minute to get into his system and see if that perks him up. If not, I’ll follow it up with the stimulant.”
“What should I do?” asked Umbral Foxfire, as it intently studied Medevac and her equipment, even as it continued to keep the steady stream of magic flowing into Iron Heart.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing for now,” replied Medevac, one wing draped softly along the length of Iron Heart’s body. “C’mon big guy, don’t make a liar out of me.”
For many long seconds silence filled the slowly brightening workshop as the dawn continued its slow but constant approach. The seconds dragged into a minute, and then two. Medevac was just beginning to reach for a syringe from her drug box, when Iron Heart drew in a long shuddering breath, followed by a second equally deep but far clearer inhalation as the eyes of the downed metalworker flickered to life.
“Uhhh, wha’ hap’?” Iron Heart asked, trying to get a hoof underneath him, only to be gently but firmly flattened to the ground by Medevac.
“Oh no you don’t,” Medevac commanded. “You just lie there nice and easy and let your favorite paramedic pegasus pony do her job. Foxfire, his stats are starting to come up nicely and I think we’re past the crisis. You can stop whatever it is you were doing to keep him going.”
“As you wish, Lady Medevac,” Umbral Foxfire replied, and the flow of dark purple mist from the white unicorn slowed and then stopped. “Make sure no one touches any of the blades forged by the Royal Consort. They are not safe.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Medevac replied absently, her concentration focused on her patient.
Okay, Iron Hoof is out of danger and Medevac has taken over, Foxfire stated, trying to push forward from behind the Umbral’s eyes and finding no traction at all. Time to put me back in the driver’s seat.
Yes. I did give you my word I would put you back in control now, didn’t I? asked the Umbral, rhetorically.
Right, so any time now would be good, Foxfire said, cold chains of fear wrapping around her heart, as her words went unanswered in a mindscape that suddenly felt much emptier than it had a moment ago…
The rising sun touched the spire at the top of Twilight’s castle, sending a prismatic spray of rainbow light as a false dawn to the green sward of land that lay between the edifice of Harmony and the town of Ponyville. It also allowed the light of Celestia’s sun to make its way through the castle and full upon the face of certain purple alicorn princess who lay face down at her work table amidst the debris of a thousand laboriously made, and then discarded calculations.
The bright light slowly but surely penetrated the pony’s tightly shut eyelids, dragging the sleeping mind of Twilight Sparkle back to a begrudged wakefulness.
“Good morning, Twilight,” Starlight Glimmer pleasantly chirped as she entered the room, a white paper bag held in her magical grip.
“GRffmda,” was the eloquent response from the alicorn.
“I’ve got fresh take-out from Donut Joe!” Starlight enthused, waving the bag held in her aura.
“Sssspiiiiiiike,” Twilight groaned, in a voice near a moan. “Spiiiiiiike!”
“Coming Twilight!” cried the drake, stopping as he perceived the state of his friend. “Wow, what is that, three all-nighters in a row?”
“You need sleep, Twilight,” Starlight firmly said, putting aside the bag of sugary treats. “Bed. Now.”
“Nuh-uh, gotta move portal,” responded the alicorn, summoning up what wakefulness she had. “Just need coffee. Spike, activate the ‘Caffeine-inator’.”
“What the hay is a ‘Caffeine-inator’?” Starlight asked the small dragon, who was moving to a side alcove.
“It’s some kinda weird gizmo Twilight bought off a pony named ‘Goofenschmirtz’, or something like that,” Spike replied, sliding up the panel to reveal a massive device whose body was nearly covered in pipes, condensers, gauges and flashing lights. “Twilight says it makes coffee twenty percent stronger.”
“Blech, give me a mug of hot cocoa anytime,” said Starlight, making a face.
“Hey Twilight, which blend do you want me to use?” Spike called back over his shoulder. “We got Yak-yakistan Light Roast, Detrot Decaf, Canterlot Cream Dream, and Seaddle’s Best.”
“Open up the bean vault, Spike,” Twilight ordered, groaning. “Open up the jar of Zebrican Walking Dead.”
“Geez Twilight, I dunno,” waffled the drake. “Isn’t that the stuff that kept Luna up for a week?”
“Coffee. Now,” growled Twilight.
“Okay, okay,” was Spike’s placating answer. “Don’t have to be so grouchy about it.”
“Sorry Spike,” apologized Twilight, collapsing in a chair near a blackboard that was filled with esoteric equations. “I was up all night trying to work out these energy transformations for today, and it still isn’t right.”
“Maybe I can help?” Starlight offered, watching with some amusement as Twilight’s number one assistant undid an increasingly esoteric set of locks to open up the “bean vault” where the Princess of Friendship kept her most prized coffee blends.
“Well, take a look at this,” Twilight responded, brain kicking into soggy gear as she explained what was on the blackboard. “Every time I try to resolve the equation for spin and charge, the dimensional manifold pinches off before anything can pass through it.”
“And you get a white hole energetic discharge from both sides,” Starlight concluded, causing Twilight’s face to brighten as her student once again demonstrated how she was Twilight’s match in many ways. “Have you tried eliminating spin and charge completely?”
“That’s what most portals do, which is why they are usually set in an enchanted frame of some sort,” Twilight explained, as the “Caffeine-inator” chugged away in the background. “The frame literally holds open the throat of the passageway.”
“Wait, I’ve got it!” cried out Starlight. “Your equations are all based on the same assumption. That both ends of the portal are in the same universe, but they’re not! Earth is in a completely different universe!”
“What’s that mean?” Twilight asked, mind too foggy to make the connection.
“It means—” Starlight began, only to stop as Spike handed a frothing crystal mug of some sort of non-euclidean black liquid to Twilight.
“Give me a second,” Twilight said, as she touched the brew in her hoof with her magic and recited, “It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the beans of Java the thoughts acquire speed, the hooves acquire shaking, the shaking becomes a warning. It is by caffeine alone I set my mind in motion.”
There was a burst of light and an instant later mug and brew were both gone, fuel for the alicorn who stood before the pair of mere mortals. Twilight’s mane and tail were gone as well, replaced by sheets of living purple flames. Eyes that burned as bright as any star turned back to the blackboard and a mind powered to 120% of its maximum capacity easily saw the conclusion that Starlight had been about to state.
“Yes! Yes, I see it!” Turbo Boosted Twilight crowed. “It’s so obvious! By eliminating the non-orthogonal quantum states and differentiating between proper and improper mixtures through the addition of the energy state of a different universe to the problem, we completely eliminate the destructive positive feedback of virtual particles, and introduce non-linearity to the entire system! You’re brilliant, Starlight!”
“Uh… Thanks?” replied Starlight, following the gist of what her teacher was saying but not the full context.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Twilight cried, bouncing up and down as her physical form returned to normal. “Where ‘ds’ is proper time and ‘c’ equals one, all we have to do is replace ‘r’ with ‘u’ in ‘u’ squared equals ‘r’ minus two ‘m’. Once we do that, a hyperplane bridge is formed and we can do whatever we want with the openings of the portal!”
“Don’t forget, the energy levels of the manifolds on either side have to cancel each other out. So, your readings of Earth’s magical constant will be critical,” Starlight cautioned. “Otherwise the whole thing could still blow up in our faces.”
“Having the Crusaders go through when we bring Celestia and Luna back should help balance thing’s nicely too,” Twilight enthused, dragging up another chalkboard to add equations to. “We should weigh them before we send them through though, just to make sure the masses are equal.”
“I don’t know about you two, but I’m going back to bed,” Spike groused, realizing he was now completely forgotten by both mages. “Next time, I’m making her decaf.”
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Well, guess I'm early?
And let this be a lesson, there is no such thing as a free lunch. Steel is damn lucky he's not dead right now, attempting a major working on naught but his untrained reserves. In the future he should train first, acquire a catalyst such as gemstone dust, or find another source of power to tap/invoke/evoke/supplicate/bind.
Did the Nightmare leave Foxfire to figure out how to take control of her body from the subconscious, use her magic to move to another host or was there a flaw in the wording of the terms? Or just a light spook?
10536084
Well, I have to have something to write in the next chapter :)
10536067
Damn right, and I haven't even gotten into what he did to his hooves....
10536086
More cute or else I'll bring coal for your birthday >:(
AND WATER, instead of lemonade!
10536090
I could use some coal for the fire. We had snow thunder here last night...
10536091
Wet coal!
...Or you just teleport through the wormhole, or you use exotic matter to prop open a proper gateway. ;P
Purple smart is best smart. Also, surely somepony has an exorcist cutiemark? With all the demon possessions going around somepony's gotta have that skill....
Goofensmirtz Evil incoooorporaaaated!
10536093
Dammit...
10536089
He still has hooves?
10536148
They've been bronzed.
Commence rant!
Shorter than I expected, but effective nonetheless.
I got that reference.
Get her a Snickers while you're at it.
10536186
Heart of Iron, Hooves of Bronze. Sounds like a pulp serial hero.
Hang on, he's also married to a dark sorceress queen. Yup, definitely a pulp hero.
Clearly this is an Amazing Lock.
Speaking of which reminds me of one of my brother's friends during D&D session. Whenever he opened the door he would act out the unlocking and re-locking of the door. It was hilarious! Eventually my brother (the DM at the time) said, "You know, you could just say 'I unlock my door'."
(sigh.) The first thing that came to mind upon reading this was -for some reason- this.
... What? Translation please?
10536227
Uh.... it's part of this
http://prntscr.com/vkri2o
10536206
You mean, like this?
d1466nnw0ex81e.cloudfront.net/n_iv/600/4391336.jpg
10536230
It's still confusing, but I... think I get it?
10536234
Yes! That specifically! Yes!
10536067
Huh did he pull a fullmetal alchemist?
10536861
Somewhat, with a side of writing a check you can't cash to the Mob and trying to deadlift your car only to throw out your back and give yourself a lethal hernia.
10536861
Kinda. Artifice is much like spellcasting: it takes magic to make magic. What Steel just did is the equivalent of a complete amateur unicorn trying to cast a spell way beyond their league. Roughly speaking, if the 'spell' costs 1000 mana, and Steel only has 100, that other 900 has to come from somewhere, and so his magic cannibalized his own body to turn it into energy to fuel his magic.
Holy shit… did the Umbral just sacrifice itself to save Iron Hoof? Huh… even a creature made of evil can have it’s good streaks.