Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Confidential Knights Mystic Memo, dated 790 AF. Accessible only by Knights of Inquisitor rank and higher.
RADIANTS AND THE DAY OF HOPE
It has come to my attention that more and more Knights Radiant have been quietly discussing the Day of Hope, the mythical moment when the Knights Discordant will be redeemed and returned to the fold. This hope stems from vaguely worded prophecies that the Radiants receive upon their initiation. These visions come from the strange device that they keep hidden away in Old Canterlot, in the Shrine of the Generous. Several Inquisitors have spoken or written to me, asking for our official policy regarding this heresy.
The details are these. At some point just before performing the ritual to become a Knight, the aspiring Radiant is exposed to a glass orb that supposedly contains the horn of Sweetie Belle, the unicorn sister of Lady Rarity. The orb grants the Radiant two visions, one that is consistent, the other that changes for each aspirant. The second vision appears to foretell the Knight’s future, though more objective study is needed to determine how accurate this is. Regardless, all Radiants seem to believe and accept the visions as fact.
The first vision is the same among all Radiants, and contains the following imagery:
- Six multicolored crystal lights shining in the darkness
- One crystal light disappears, while another glows brighter with light described as ‘threatening, baleful, sinister’ or other such adjectives
- A voice, often described in multiple accounts as whispering or sibilant, speaks to the pony
The quote is always the same. “Six there were, now five remains. One rules from the shadows, the others follow blindly. Hope is lost, but the lost can be found. The Sleeper will awaken at the hooves of her children. The Generous will find the lost and restore Hope to Equestria.”
The Radiants themselves have no idea what all of this means. There is much disagreement as to each point of symbolism. The general consensus, though, is that the light that disappears represents the Knights Angelic, and that the spoken prophecy itself refers to the Radiants’ role in bringing the Angelic back into the fold.
Now, as for the Mystic’s official stance: technically, these things are a secret known only to the Radiant. Since the ‘Day of Hope’ heresy is largely toothless, our stance is to simply pretend not to know anything about the orb, the prophecy, or the Radiants’ foolhardy dreams. However, we have observed before that this hope can sometimes lead a Radiant to make foolish decisions regarding heretics themselves, treating them with more mercy and patience than is safe. Inquisitors should be aware of Radiants they are working with, and always watch closely for any signs that they may be behaving too familiarly with heretic Knights in some foolhardy attempt to ‘reform’ them.
Manehatten Caves, 1112 AF
“You mentioned sin earlier. What is sin?” Heartwing asked as he walked in front of her. He didn’t turn as he spoke, the light of his horn casting slowly swaying shadows off the limestone formations around them.
“You don’t know what sin is?” Emberglow replied. The cave was slowly widening, and she felt like it was angling upwards.
“I know what I think of when I hear the word, but I want to know what you consider the word to mean.”
Emberglow’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Sin is going against the will of the Diarchs.”
“Going against the will of the Diarchs? Okay. How do you know what the will of the Diarchs is?”
“Is this a joke?” Emberglow asked, perturbed. Heartwing made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter, but when Emberglow glared at him, his face was blankly polite. “Any foal can answer these questions.”
“I’ve found that in order to have any sort of productive conversation about faith, a pony has to start by defining terms. That way the discussion doesn’t get bogged down in an argument about semantics.” Heartwing’s voice was calmly cheerful. He stopped walking briefly. “Watch out, the floor here is mostly loose gravel.”
“The will of the Diarchs is brought to us through the six Saints, as taught in the Book of the Saints,” Emberglow said with a sigh, carefully stepping on the loose floor so as not to trip.
“You believe the Book of the Saints to be completely true and factual?” Emberglow could practically hear the suppressed smirk in his voice, and it made her all the more determined to hold strong to her faith.
“Of course I do,” she said instantly.
“How confident are you that the Book of the Saints, from beginning to end, is completely literal. That is, that the events written therein occurred exactly as written? On a scale of one to ten, say,” Heartwing asked, his voice stuttering for a moment as he nearly slipped himself on the uneven floor.
“Ten,” Emberglow replied confidently.
Really? Then why did you let her kiss you?
“That’s pretty confident,” Heartwing said, as Emberglow stumbled herself. It was just because of the unstable floor. Not because she was distracted by dark, shameful thoughts. “May I ask why?”
“Why what?”
“Sorry, poorly worded question. What is it that gives you such confidence?”
“Everypony knows the Book of the Saints is true,” she replied, but the answer was unsatisfying, even to her. “I mean, it’s been the entire foundation of pony society for almost a millennia. Millions of us have lived and died by its teachings. The Book, and the faith, have helped to keep us safe from a half-dozen hostile nations, and from enemies within. Like unicorns.”
“There’s lots of reasons there. But what about you personally? What is it that gives you confidence in the Book of the Saints?” he asked. The question made her think; her earlier answer had felt rote, and Emberglow knew that if she were going to defeat the heretic’s logic, she’d need something better. Something deeper.
Emberglow’s mind floated back to all of her experiences with her faith. Her earliest memories of worship were with her parents, when Needle Point had still been pregnant with Emberglow’s little brother. She’d been so excited back then, unable to wait for a new little playmate to join in her make believe games. No matter how often her parents explained to her he would need months to grow before he could do much more than eat, sleep, cry, and fill his diapers, her enthusiasm would not be stopped. She would sit in front of the statue of Saint Pinkamena, praying every day for her brother’s safe arrival.
That was, of course, until he had been born, and she had seen the horn. Still, those days of visiting the Cathedral, hours spent in front of the kind, maternal gazes of the six Saints, had brought her the strength she had needed when Sir Steadfast had come to take her brother away. The peace she had felt, the profound, unfailing serenity as she had knelt before those stone figures was a memory that had kept her through some of her darkest times.
Not this one, though. Were you thinking about Lady Rarity, or Lady Twilight, or any of the others when you were kissing Gadget?
Emberglow was so lost in her thoughts that she tripped on the scrabble herself. Her right front hoof slid out from under her, twisting slightly as it struck the floor. A slight stab of pain shot up her muscle.
“You okay?” Heartwing glanced at her.. She tested the limb briefly and nodded.
“I’m fine. Just got distracted for a second, and I didn’t watch where I was going,” she said, before thinking how he might respond to, or use the knowledge that his questions were getting to her. He didn’t say anything, but nodded. Emberglow reminded herself to be more careful with what she said in the future. “I haven’t really answered your question yet. Sorry, I’m thinking. Can I… can I ask you a question?”
“Of course you may,” Heartwing said. “Careful, there’s a pothole here.” Emberglow stepped carefully around the pothole.
“The Arch Heretic. I’m sure you Discordant have stories about him,” she began cautiously.
“Yes, we do. We keep detailed histories of that time. I’ve read his journals,” Heartwing replied matter-of-factly. Emberglow nearly gasped; she was suddenly quite curious, and felt ashamed for it.
“How did he… do what he did?” she asked, silently cursing herself for being so inarticulate. “Was it by asking questions, like you are? Or is that a secret?”
“Not really a secret, no,” Heartwing said. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”
“Try me. I might not believe, but I’ll listen anyway.”
“You know each order of Knights has their own unique rituals, their own secret books of scripture, right? I’m sure the Radiant have something like that. They’re kept from the uninitiated, and can only be accessed by that order, or by one of the Mystics.”
“I will not speak of such things with somepony who is uninitiated,” Emberglow said.
“You don’t need to,” Heartwing replied cryptically. “I’ve heard it from members of each of the orders I’ve brought over into the Discordant. So yes, I know all about the oracle locked in the basement of the Shrine of the Generous.” Emberglow gaped at him. “That’s not even Sweetie Belle’s horn, by the way, it’s Starlight Glimmer’s.”
“Who’s—”
“But that’s beside the point,” he continued on heedlessly. “The Knights of Kindness had their own secret prophecies and rituals. One of these prophecies involved a great sacrifice, something all Knights Angelic would have to give up in order to accomplish a tremendous and profound kindness. The Arch-heretic, as you call him, knew of this prophecy, and joined the ranks of the Angelic in order to place himself at its center.”
“He manipulated a sacred prophecy in order to subvert the entire order?” she asked, horrified.
“Yes. Or perhaps his actions were the real fulfillment of the prophecy. Who can say? But it wasn’t just the prophecy on the Arch Heretic’s side. He offered the Angelic more.”
“What?” she asked, not wanting to hear the answer. She felt sick.
“A personal witness of the events supposedly written in the Book of the Saints, and living proof that they are false. The Arch Heretic, you see, was an immortal creature, personally acquainted with all six of the Saints. And he proved to the Angelic, to all of us, that we had been misled.”
“You’re mad.” Emberglow recoiled, her mind instantly raging against the lies she was hearing. She felt ill. “This is pure fiction.”
“Is it?” Heartwing asked. “You stated that you had complete confidence in the events of the Book of the Saints. And yet you weren’t there to observe the events written in the book. Is it so hard to accept the possibility that the redemption of the Angelic happened just as I said? After all, you weren’t there, either.”
“But to believe that a creature could have survived hundreds of years, thousands even, is insanity.”
“Not so, Emberglow. Dragons are known for their longevity. Have you ever spoken to one?”
“But a thousand years…”
“I can personally witness to you that there are at least two ancient drakes, alive right now, who were friends with your Saint Twilight. I have spoken with them both.”
“So the Arch Heretic was a dragon?” Emberglow scoffed.
“No, I merely used dragons as an example of creatures whose lives last much, much longer than a pony’s. The Arch Heretic was something else, entirely. A draconequus, though the term probably means nothing to you.”
“I thought you said you would never lie to me. If you are so determined to prove your honesty, why make such outlandish claims?”
“You asked, I answered. I told you that you might not like the answer I would give. I can guarantee one thing though; when the ‘Arch Heretic’ presented his evidence to the Angelic Grand Master, the Knight immediately abdicated his position in favor of the Arch Heretic himself, becoming his second-in-command.”
“There’s no way this happened without the other orders, the other Grand Masters knowing,” Emberglow protested.
“They knew. The old Grand Master, before giving up his position to the Arch Heretic, contacted each and every one of the other Grand Masters in private, begging them to see his evidence and judge for themselves. Not a pony among them would even listen. Not even his twin sister, of the Radiant.”
“I… I can’t believe you,” Emberglow said. “You’re lying. There’s no way you can prove any of this.”
“I can offer the same proof as the Arch Heretic. Or rather, he can. He still lives.”
Emberglow stopped dead in her tracks. This wasn’t possible. This was horrible. The Day of Hope was the secret dream of all Radiant. But if the Arch Heretic was still alive, did that mean the Day of Hope was a foalish wish?
What proof do you have that he’s not telling the truth?
Besides, there was the prophecy that each Radiant received from the oracle, back at the Shrine of the Generous. ‘The Generous will restore Hope to Equestria’. That meant her order would bring about the Day of Hope, right?
“Emberglow? We shouldn’t stop,” Heartwing said. She blinked, looking up at him, then away. Reluctantly, she forced her hooves into motion, watching him suspiciously for any sign that he was going to say any more. But except for a significant glance with raised eyebrows, he turned and continued down the gently sloping cave floor.
Was Heartwing simply going to pretend he hadn’t said what he did? Emberglow had known this was going to happen the moment he had proposed the truce, after all. Why choose not to kill her, unless he thought there might be a chance to turn her against her faith? Maybe Sir Brightblade had been right; nothing good could come from playing nice with the heretics. Well, it wasn’t as if she had a choice now, if she wanted to live…
If she wanted to live. Was this the sacrifice Lady Rarity demanded of her? To die, lost, starving and afraid in this cursed darkness, if only to keep herself from listening to such corruption? Was this the storm she had seen in her vision? Emberglow shuddered at the thought.
For hours, they trekked through the Caves, looping, circling, exploring. They found dead ends, and caverns that turned around on themselves. There were natural caves, and more of the pony-made underground rail system. These chambers were filled with strange artifacts; mostly bits of twisted metal and infrastructure left behind by the ancient Manehatten ponies. It would normally have piqued Emberglow’s curiosity, but she was simply too soul-weary to muster much interest.
Throughout it all, Heartwing continued his silence, only speaking to let her know that they were still heading in the right direction. Here and there he stopped, gathering mushrooms or tiny edible plants.
After who knew how long of walking in the darkness, her head began to ache again, the dull pulse of pain reminding Emberglow she would need to rest soon. Her muscles were screaming with pain, and her back was sore. The weight of her armor, usually feather light from the enchantments forged into the metal, felt like an anvil pressing on her tortured form. She stole a glance at Heartwing; he had been plodding along steadily for hours seemingly without difficulty, but now she could detect a small limp in his gait as he walked.
“We should find a place to rest,” Emberglow said, finally. Heartwing paused, turning his gaze back to her, his horn glowing in the darkness.
“I’d prefer not to stop, myself,” he sighed, his eyes searching the shadows. “There’s no telling what we could encounter down here.”
“You’re limping, sir, and I’m still recovering from numerous injuries. If we damage ourselves without thinking, it could be just as dangerous as if we encounter some strange beast.”
“Still…”
“Sir!” Emberglow interrupted loudly, and felt herself trying not to think too hard about what she was about to say. She was possibly delirious. “Have you forgotten the Regulation Book entry on chain of command as it relates to the relationship between commanding officers and their medical ponies?”
“What?” he said, stopping and turning around fully to face her.
“On page fifty-nine. ‘In cases of severe injury, incapacitation, or extreme danger to life and limb, the highest ranking medical officer of any unit may take command over his or her superior officer, should said officer be deemed medically or mentally unfit for his or her command.’ I order you to stop and rest.” Emberglow had no idea why she said it that way; her mind felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with wool. Exhaustion-induced delirium, the analytical part of her mind noted.
“You’re… ordering me?” Heartwing said, laughing incredulously.
“To disobey could lead to numerous consequences, up to and including court martial. When I make my full report to your superior officers, of course.”
Heartwing couldn’t help himself; he burst into laughter, reaching out a hoof to lean against the cave wall as he doubled over. The laughter lasted a few minutes, and Emberglow began to worry she had broken him somehow.
“I don’t know what’s more insane,” Heartwing said finally, catching his breath and wiping at the tears in his eyes. “The fact that you have the balls to give me orders, or the fact that you actually have a sense of humor. Okay, you win. Let’s find a cave like the one you woke up in, and we’ll rest for a few hours.”
It proved more difficult to find a safe cave to sleep in than either of them had thought.
The first time they found a promising little room, Emberglow had spotted some tracks in the dusty soil at the floor of the cave. The tracks themselves were slightly smaller than a pony’s, but each hoof or paw print contained what looked like a wicked set of claws. Both ponies had shared a look, before turning and heading in the opposite direction.
The second one they found was full of the stench of bat guano. Excited for a moment, because the presence of so many bats hanging in bunches from the ceiling potentially meant an escape route, both were profoundly disappointed when they found the bats’ exit; a tiny tunnel in the ceiling, more than twenty feet above them, and barely six inches in diameter. Emberglow was a little disappointed, but Heartwing was undaunted, even giving the sleeping creatures a cheerful wave as they left the bat cave.
The third room they found was, finally, acceptable. Another pony-made door opened into what used to be a narrow staircase. The cement stairs went nowhere, going up only a few feet until being blocked off by another cave in. The pillars of stalagmite, however, suggested that this particular room hadn’t shifted in several hundred years, so they were most likely safe from a cave in.
“I could start a fire, but we have no fuel,” Heartwing offered. He could start a fire with his unicorn magic, he meant. Emberglow tried not to flinch at the thought. “Would you relax? My magic is no different than yours, just easier.”
“That’s hardly the point, is it?” she said softly. “I’d rather be cold than rely on unicorn magic.” He shrugged, but didn’t argue further. It was cold, however. A fire would have been nice, and he had been gracious to offer, so she decided to extend a bit of an olive branch. “Um, do you trust me?”
“Of course not, Emberglow,” Heartwing said. “But that doesn’t mean much in our situation. Why do you ask?”
She reached for her saddlebags and retrieved her first aid kit. “You were limping earlier. Is your leg injured? I could look at it, if you want.”
“Look at it? Your spell battery is empty. There’s no way you could cast any healing runes right now,” Heartwing replied, squinting at her suspiciously. “It’ll be days before your battery has enough motes.”
“There’s more to healing than spells. I went to medical school for three years before entering the Ivy Seminary. They don’t teach magical healing in civilian medical school; most ponies can’t afford magic like that anyways.”
“You went to medical school for three years before your Knight training?” Heartwing eyed her critically for a moment. “Last I knew, Knight training in New Canterlot still took three years. You can’t be more than twenty five.”
“I’m only eighteen, actually,” Emberglow said. “I started civilian med school when I was twelve.”
“Celestia’s sake. I’m trapped in a cave with a baby genius,” Heartwing gasped, his tone managing to be both disbelieving and amused.
“Please, watch the blasphemy. And yes, I was… advanced for my age. But that means I can still diagnose and treat injuries without magic. I think it’s a pretty useful skill.” She thought about the battles with the pirates, and the way her first aid had certainly come in handy there. He nodded, impressed.
“Well then, doctor, your patient is ready,” he said with a smile.
“Okay, I’ll need you to take your armor off,” Emberglow said. That killed the smile on Heartwing’s muzzle.
“I see. That’s why you asked if I could trust you. Well, you’ve got a busted wing and no magic. I’m pretty sure I could take you even without Knight Armor, so we’ll see how this works.” She wanted to get upset about the casual way he put that, but it was probably an honest assessment. The one time they had fought, before the cave-in, she had sensed that she would be no match for him in an honest, one on one fight.
Watching Heartwing take off his armor, Emberglow realized a few things. First, that unicorns had a significant advantage when donning and removing armor; his horn glowed, and a slight yellow outline appeared around each buckle and strap, undoing it quickly and removing it.
Second, that she was about to be alone in a room with a naked stallion! It wasn’t a sexual awkwardness; she had never been interested in stallions that way, but nudity had always made her uncomfortable. She took a deep breath to put on her professional face, hoping he hadn’t seen the surprise of her realization in her expression.
He had. With a smirk, he began swaying his tail and his hips, humming a saucy tune as if he were dancing in a burlesque show rather than removing dirty, sweaty armor in a cold smelly cave. She felt her cheeks fill with blood, her embarrassment coloring her face as quickly as she realized what he was doing.
“Stop it,” she demanded harshly, and he giggled, but he stopped his teasing sway.
The gambeson underneath his Knight Armor was filthy, stained with blood, sweat, cave soil, and who knew what else. Emberglow was sure hers was just as bad. With a glow of telekinesis, he removed the padded gambeson as well; Emberglow caught a glimpse of a few spots where it had been snagged or cut, maybe from her own attacks, or her team’s. She couldn’t see any marks on his fur. It hurt her pride a bit that she hadn’t even been able to touch him.
With his gambeson removed, she was able to take a look at Heartwing’s cutie mark. It was a butterfly in profile, with yellow wings, standing on top of a purple hyacinth. Emberglow stared for a moment; it looked oddly feminine on the stallion. He noticed her staring, and wiggled his rump a little like before.
“Taking a mental photograph, are we? I’ll remind you, I’m involved in a committed monogamous relationship. Though if you’re interested, I’m sure I can ask Terminus Flash if he’s into sharing. It’s been a few years since my last threesome.”
“Nope!” she spat. Emberglow knew he was kidding. She knew it. But he still flustered her. It was oddly comforting, however. This teasing, mockingly flirtatious behavior was closer to what she had expected from a heretic. Not the quiet, logical, reasoned questioning.
His questions are making you far too uncomfortable, aren’t they?
Emberglow distracted herself by assuming a professional mien. She approached the offending leg, looking at the joints and the muscles.
“May I touch you?” she asked gently. Heartwing opened his mouth, probably to say something rude, if the smirk on his face was any indication, then thought better of it and nodded. She reached out to him with her front hooves, lowering herself to the floor next to him so she could more closely inspect the damage.
There was some mild swelling along his knee, and she could tell it was bruised. “Pick up your leg.” He did as she asked, and she carefully bent it slowly at the knee. “Any pain?”
“A bit. I’ve been walking on it for a long time, though.”
“Yeah, I know,” Emberglow said. Her own muscles were still protesting their long walk. She let him place his hoof down again, gently massaging the swollen muscle. “You should be fine, but you’re going to have to rest for a while. Maybe a minor sprain. It will help to wrap it; I’ve got some decent bandages in my saddlebags. While we’re at it, you can re-splint my wing.”
“I did my best,” Heartwing whined. Emberglow smiled gently.
“Yes, and I never thanked you for that, did I? You did fine, for someone without medical training.” She undid the buckle on her saddlebags, sliding them off her back so she could access her supplies. She removed a clean pressure bandage from among her first aid kit and began to wind it around his swollen knee.
“I studied basic field first aid!” he protested.
“I’ll give you some pointers when I’m done here,” she said diplomatically. “Now, does this feel too tight? You can still move the limb? The bandage should give support, but not restrict movement. You can get dressed, but be careful not to undo the bandage.”
“It feels fine, thank you,” he said. She turned around so he could get dressed with a little privacy. She could hear him donning his baldric again, and felt the slight hum of magic in the air as he reassembled his armor. “Can I help you?” Emberglow only hesitated a moment before nodding. “I do have some experience with wings, you know. Termie is a pegasus.”
“Termie?” Emberglow asked as she collected a fresh wing splint and another bandage from her bag.
“Terminus Flash. My partner,” Heartwing answered. His voice was sweet. Twitterpated, her mother would have said. “Though if I’m being honest, my experience with wings is more… erm… sensual than medicinal. Massages, sexy preening, putting feathers in interesting places, that sort of thing.”
“I think we can skip that aspect of wing care,” Emberglow mumbled, flushing hotly. “Now please listen carefully, here’s what I need you to do…”
With Emberglow’s mostly patient instructions, Heartwing was able to re-splint Emberglow’s sprained wing. True to his word, Heartwing’s hooves were indeed gentle, at least. A pegasus’ wings were sensitive at the best of times, and it was certainly helpful not to have them roughly treated.
Maybe you need to find somepony that will treat your wings right? A mare, perhaps?
Quickly she silenced her inner thoughts before they could go any further. What was it about recently? She’d never struggled with her own lusts before, like she was now. It was all the heretic’s fault.
You know that’s a lie. Did she really mean nothing to you?
No, Gadget hadn’t meant nothing to her, and that was the problem. She silently implored the Saints to strengthen her faith for these trials.
Because faith and prayers have clearly been enough so far. Remember the stallion in the stockades? The zebra captain? Oak Chips? Faith and prayers haven’t exactly solved any of your issues in the past, have they?
Were the words of a heretic to be trusted? She’d never felt this much doubt before. And now she was arguing with herself, while a heretic bound her wing in a splint. ‘Hold fast to the rudder and steer your own ship’ said the scripture, but she was letting a heretic and some dead ponies steer her ship for her.
“Done! I hope it feels okay,” Heartwing said, breaking Emberglow out of her inner tempest.
She gave it a quick look over, and nodded. “Thank you, you’ve done well. We should eat next.”
“Yes, doctor,” Heartwing said with a smirk, one that Emberglow didn’t feel like returning. “We have mushrooms with roots, mushrooms without roots, or roots without mushrooms.” He glanced at her expression, and a bit of the light of humor went out of his demeanor. “What would you like?”
“Give me both, I suppose.” She wasn’t looking forward to the meal. “Do you mind if I ask a prayer over the food?” she asked him. He nodded his assent.
“Lady Pinkamina, sanctify this meal to bring fullness to our bellies and joy to our hearts. Lady Rainbow, keep us safe in our trials,” she prayed. Emberglow paused for a moment. Would he be offended if she prayed for his soul? She pressed forward anyways. “Lady Twilight, help us lost souls with clarity and faith. All Saints keep us,” she finished. He was smirking that smug, amused look she was used to by now, but he didn’t repeat the prayer’s end with her. But why would he?
“I hope I didn’t offend you,” Emberglow said, trying to sound sincere.
“There is only one prayer that would offend me,” Heartwing replied. “As long as you don’t pray to the Element of Kindness where I can hear you, I won’t begrudge you praying to the others. Even if you’re praying to save my soul.”
The mushrooms were just as boring as before, but the roots were sweet, if a little bitter and tough to chew. Emberglow idly wondered what they were, and how Heartwing knew they were safe to eat, but she didn’t quite feel up to speaking with him at the moment. But what was it about praying to Lady Fluttershy that would bother him? Did the Discordant still consider themselves hers, somehow? She sensed it might be a difficult topic to breach.
“Take some rest, I’ll keep watch,” Heartwing offered. She glanced at him. “Unless you think I’m going to do something in your sleep.”
“No,” Emberglow said softly. “If you were going to strike against me, you had plenty of better opportunities to do so before now. Thank you.” She had been doing that a lot, recently. Thanking a heretic. Who could have predicted she would be in this position?
She wondered what things would be like when she got back to the capital. She was sure there was going to be a court martial. Could she even tell them what had happened? The idea of lying to her fellow Knights was repulsive to her, but how could she admit to having spoken with a heretic? Making a truce with a heretic? Sharing first aid, even a meal, with a heretic? She suspected she might be in for a few long, uncomfortable conversations with the Knights Mystic when she returned to New Canterlot City.
It wasn’t something she could fix right now, though. She moved to the far end of the room, underneath the stairway that led to nowhere, and carefully removed her armor, though she left her gambeson on. She was sure it was just as filthy as Heartwing’s, but there was nothing she could do about it here. There was no chance she was going to remove it while he was here, that was certain.
Once her armor was removed, and stacked carefully against the wall, she bowed her head slightly and prayed again. “Lady Rarity, intercede on my behalf,” she began, sotto voce. She didn’t really want Heartwing to overhear; a glance his way showed he had turned his back to her, moving towards the doorway. “I… I am beset by doubt and confusion. I have questions without good answers, and I am afraid that more faith will not be enough. I am in this situation because I thought I was following in your hoofsteps. Please guide me. All Saints keep us.”
When she was done, she curled up carefully on the floor, with her saddlebags as a pillow. The floor was harsh and unyielding, but her sore limbs were grateful to be still. Her last sight before she closed her eyes was Heartwing, staring away from her out of the exit to their room, with his horn glowing faintly for light.
* * * * *
Emberglow…
Emberglow!
Emberglow are you there? come and see me come and touch me kiss me
She heard a ringing noise. A tinkling, like the bell hung over the door to her parents’ shop. No, it wasn’t like that sound… it was that exact same sound, a familiar, safe sound.
Emberglow sweetie I want you come hold me don’t you remember our kisses? they were the best kisses
There was Gadget, standing right in front of her. Gadget, with her light blue fur, and sunshine yellow hair, always just a little too long and unruly…
she shifted her blonde hair out of her eyes just like always just like the last time you saw her do it Emberglow sweetie come stay with me come lie with me be with me
Gadget was naked. Emberglow knew she should look away. She didn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t, not this time. The bell dinged again. Somepony called out something Emberglow couldn’t hear.
look at the fur the tail the flanks the curves touch me be mine Emberglow taste my lips my tongue my everything
She saw a hoof reach out. Her hoof. She touched the phantom before her. The bell dinged. Somepony called out, desperately. Words of protest, words that made no sense.
soft fur silky fur touch it stroke it love it make love blood there’s the blood it’s flowing it’s pouring all over it’s all over me all over us gushing out spurting it’s on me all over me I’ll never be clean never get it off get it off GET IT OFF!
Somepony was screaming. Emberglow was screaming. The phantom leaned forward, pressing her lips against Emberglow’s. She tasted iron, and a rush of hot liquid filled her mouth.
Emberglow I’m cold its cold where did you go why is there blood please help me please make it stop please love me please
“My little pony! Wake up! You need to wake up!” The bell rang more, six more times, each time louder and louder.
* * * * *
“Emberglow! You need to wake up!” Heartwing was whispering harshly. She felt his hoof on her shoulder, shaking her. “Please! Stop screaming! You need to stop screaming!”
“Wha…huh…? You’re not the same…” Emberglow said blearily, blinking, her thoughts incoherent. Heartwing was peering into her eyes, his red and yellow oddly paired irises focused intently on her own. She reached up with a hoof to push him away gently, rubbing at her eyes in the process. They were wet; matted fur around her cheeks and face attested to the tears.
“Shh! You were screaming in your sleep. Nightmare.” He glanced about, and his normal teasing lilt was gone. “There are creatures about, I’m sure of it; I heard something moving around in one of the larger caverns outside after one of your cries. Maybe your screaming scared them away, or maybe it’s going to lure them closer.”
“But… what… oh. What about you?” she asked, her mind finally grasping the situation. A crisis was good; it would help to not have to think about her dream. The disturbing combination of eroticism and horror would haunt her forever. “You need a turn to rest too.”
“Get your armor on, and we’ll see if we have to fight or flee. If nothing comes to bother us, I might shut my eyes for a while, after we move and find a different cave. I don’t wanna be in the same place where we were making too much noise before.”
“How long was I out?” Emberglow asked.
“About three hours. Don’t worry, I maybe didn’t sleep, but I was sitting and resting most of the time.” Even in the dim light of his horn glow, she could see the bags under his eyes. He still needed at least a little sleep, and she barely felt rested at all. She did as he asked, careful about her wing as she replaced her armor, then her bags.
The two ponies sat as quietly as they could for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the Caves around them. Emberglow could only hear the omnipresent dripping of liquid, and the beating of her own heart. She realized she was terrified. What if something did come looking for them? It would be all her fault. She was chilled; the mild breeze flowing through the cave was cooling her down as it brushed across her sweat-soaked hide.
“Okay. Let’s find another spot to rest,” Heartwing said finally. The two of them left the stairwell room, their hooves moving as quietly as possible. Each step was deliberate and paranoid, with both Knights making sure not to step on anything that might make even the slightest noise. Emberglow barely dared to breathe, terrified that whatever might be following them could hear every sound she made.
Suddenly Heartwing stopped, pointing with a hoof at one of the walls of the natural cavern they were in. There was moss and moisture, of course, but also a foul stench. Emberglow looked where he was pointing; there were scratch marks on the wall; deep furrows carved by two sets of claws, over and over again. The scratches began about twice the height of a pony, and traveled down to eye level. A dark stain on the wall just underneath the gouges in the stone wall explained the stench; whatever had marked the wall with its claws had also marked the wall in other ways.
Heartwing held a hoof up to his lips, indicating silence, his eyes searching Emberglow’s face for understanding. She nodded, shivering. Some sort of creature called this area its home, and they would have to be on their guard. She wished she still had her spear, or even some charge in her spell battery. Emberglow wasn’t the best at offensive spells, but even a little bit of power would help.
She glanced down to her hoof, where her spell battery was kept. Heartwing motioned towards it with a hoof. Eyeing him suspiciously, she triggered the switch that would open the canister, releasing the battery. It had only been a few hours since she had drained the last motes, so the red gem was still dull and lifeless. It would be at least a month before the ambient magical energy that filled the world refilled it.
Heartwing held out a hoof towards the battery. She shrugged, handing it to him; it was useless to her now, whatever he wanted it for couldn’t hurt.
Heartwing set the cylindrical device down on the cave floor and leaned forward, his glowing horn nearly touching the battery. The yellow light of his magic reached out, like a pseudopod, surrounding the battery with its waving outline. Emberglow nearly gasped when she saw the battery’s red gem light up, representing about two days’ worth of charge. Heartwing grunted with effort, and the magical aura grew brighter. He poured more magic into the battery; a few seconds later, the yellow gem lit up as well. By the time Heartwing’s magical aura retreated just to his glowing horn, the yellow and red lights on the battery were still glowing, and the first of the green gems was flashing fitfully.
“I…“ Emberglow began, but was silenced by a harsh glance and a hoof to her lips from Heartwing. She nodded nervously at him, and picked up the battery to replace it in its home. Would this mean the battery was corrupted, somehow? Tainted or unholy? She had no idea, but the thought left her unsettled. Should she refrain from writing runes? Could she? She slipped the spell battery back into the canister in her armor, and Heartwing turned around silently. She followed him, wondering.
Spell batteries usually took weeks to regain as much charge as Heartwing had added in mere seconds. Clearly it wasn’t without cost; the unicorn heretic looked even more tired than he had before, and there was a noticeable slump in his gait.
The attack came with no fanfare, no monstrous growling or shriek of rage. Emberglow had the merest fraction of a heartbeat to react when she heard the claws scrabbling against the rock floor. She acted on instinct, sensing the lunge before she could even see what was attacking.
“Look out!” she cried out, shoving against Heartwing’s flank with both front hooves. The unicorn was clearly tired, his reflexes suffering, and Emberglow was barely able to shove him out of the way in time. Their attacker landed right where the two of them had been, with Emberglow on one side and Heartwing on the other. Both ponies spun to see what had been stalking them.
The creature was a nightmare of gangly limbs and patchy, pale white fur. It resembled a dog, but it was much larger than a pony, with four paws tipped with sharp claws that scratched gouges in the ground underneath it. Two slavering heads thrashed about violently. One of the heads was clearly blind, with milky white eyes, while the other was deformed, a large cavernous piece of its snout missing. She could see into its sinus cavity.
The blind head sniffed the air, its hot breath coming out in loud puffs. The second head eyed the two of them, its open maw full of sharp fangs. Emberglow nearly gagged when the stench of its breath washed over her; it smelled of meat and rotten things.
Emberglow was no combat veteran, but she was long past her first battle onboard Zuberi’s pirate ship, when she had frozen up in combat. Her mind raced to analyze the situation and prepare her next move. The hideous creature was between the two of them, cutting her off from Heartwing. For a split second, she considered trying to go under the thing’s legs.
Its maw was fast. Before she could start moving, the sighted head had lashed out, its jaws gaping for her throat. Emberglow threw up a hoof to ward off the gnashing fangs, but the creature bit down on her armored leg. The monster’s teeth scraped against her armor, but the fangs didn’t pierce through to her flesh. She let out a yelp when the creature yanked with its maw, pulling her off her balance and nearly into the waiting clutches of its other toothy muzzle.
With her right hoof immobilized by the creature’s jaw, Emberglow was unable to cast any rune spells. She reared back her left hoof, prepared to strike the blind dog head that was about to bite her. She flailed at it with her hoof, but the creature dodged instinctively, moving its free face away from her questing hoof while keeping her off balance with its other.
“Emberglow! Close your eyes!” Heartwing shouted. She clenched her eyes shut. Even through her eyelids, she could see the intense, bright flash of magical light. There was a sound of impact and a growl of fury as the creature was struck by something, and suddenly her hoof was free.
“Can you cast runes on the run?” Heartwing reached out with a hoof to yank her away from the monster.
“Y-yeah,” she stuttered. The blind head was thrashing around, while the other had its eyes clenched shut, howling in pain. Emberglow could see a patch of burned fur just behind its left ear.
“Good. Let’s run,” he said. “Ready any sort of shield spell you have.”
The two ponies took off running away from the monster. Emberglow began tracing the first of the runes she would need, her gait awkward and a little slow because she was using only three of her hooves.
“Wait for my signal to finish the spell!” Heartwing called. She held the charged energy, feeling the magic coursing from her battery up her leg. She began to turn to look behind them. “No! Eyes forward, hold the spell, and run. I’ll tell you when to finish it. Trust me.”
Emberglow didn’t have a choice. She could hear the bellowing barks of the creature, two different pitches as both heads angrily called out to them. The claws clicked and scraped against the floor.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” she panted.
“Away from that thing. Other than that? Nope,” he said. “Now no more talking. Hold it…”
Emberglow was certain she could feel the hot, smelly breath of the creature behind her. Spittle from its frothing maws flicked out and spattered on the back of her ears and mane, and she nearly tripped and fell. The pressure of the held spell pushed against her mind, and she held on for dear life, until…
“Now!” Heartwing yelled. She finished the last rune, releasing the charged motes and bringing her shield spell to life. The glowing purple sphere came into being right as the creature was mid lunge. Its own momentum slammed it into the solid magical wall, and Emberglow heard a loud crunch of bone.
“It’s not over. Prepare another and keep an eye on the creature, now. It won’t be so quick to leap without looking, and I need some time to cast our pathfinding spell.” He was running out of breath. “Not that it’s doing us any good.”
It was a little strange to Emberglow how easy it was to follow his orders. Technically he was a senior Knight, and she had made the joke earlier about them being in a chain of command, but still, he was a heretic. She should be hesitating at least a little.
It was probably far too late to worry about that now. She began weaving the runes of another shield spell. She was glad she’d practiced these so often; they came so much more naturally to her than any sort of attack spells.
“This way!” Heartwing called out, as the tunnel they were in suddenly expanded outwards into a large cavern the size of a soccer field. Several dozen ancient, broken rails crisscrossed the room. “Don’t trip!” He rushed along one of the rails, and Emberglow followed as carefully as she could at the speed they were going. She could see up ahead that the tunnel the rail led down was mostly intact.
Emberglow turned to look at the monster right as it burst into the large cavern itself. Tensing its hind legs for a lunge, it made use of the greater space to leap across the room, landing right in front of the two. She had just enough time to finish her second shield spell as its claws lashed out at her, while the sighted maw dove at Heartwing. She could see blood on the blind head’s snout, which was twisted a bit from its impact with her first shield.
“Damn creature,” Heartwing swore. His horn glowed brightly, and a lance of light burst from the tip, striking at the thing’s chest. It singed the fur a bit, and the monster howled, but other than that, it seemed to have little effect. “I seem to be running low on juice, so to speak. Ideas?”
“More… running,” Emberglow panted. “Pick a… different tunnel.”
“Very well… uh… this way,” Heartwing chose at random. They spun around and split off the rail they had been following to dash down another. This one was narrower, Emberglow noticed. The wall had partially collapsed, leaving an opening only slightly large enough to admit ponies. They would have to go in single file. Heartwing ducked under the low hanging stone, and she followed quickly, picking up her hind legs at the last second to dodge the creature’s snapping teeth.
“Can he follow?” she asked as they pushed through the claustrophobic tunnel. She could barely turn her head to see behind her, but suddenly the view from behind was filled with violently snapping teeth and a questing tongue. The narrow dog-like head tried to nose its way into the tunnel after them, yelping with pain when the other head tried to enter as well and smashed against the outside wall. The creature’s thrashing made the tunnel shake, sand and loose pebbles raining down on the two ponies.
“He’s sure going to try. Move quickly so he doesn’t bring the whole ceiling down on us,” Heartwing said. The walls were close, too close. Sharp rocks along the sides scraped against her armor, making a screech on occasion as stone ground against metal. Emberglow spared a slightly mournful thought at all the beating, scratching, and general mayhem that had been visited on her beautiful armor, but only for a moment.
“Saints guide us,” she said softly, and heard Heartwing laugh.
“If you wanted to pray to Fluttershy now, I wouldn’t be too offended. She used to own one of those, you know. For about an hour.”
“Own one of… those? What in the name of the holy Diarchs was that?” And what did he mean, Lady Fluttershy had owned one for just an hour? She knew that each holy Knight order had their own unique scriptures and teachings of their patron saint, but she had always assumed that the Knights Angelic had cast aside all of the scriptures and teachings when they had fallen to heresy.
“An orthos. They used to be as sweet as any dog. Now the only ones I’ve run into are vicious and starving, or mutated monsters like this one. It’s sad, really,” Heartwing said. “From what I’ve heard, the one Fluttershy owned was a real sweetie. So if you wanted to say a prayer to her…”
“Saint Fluttershy, please keep us safe from that creature,” Emberglow said without hesitation. As long as he didn’t mind, she was willing. She’d never felt quite comfortable praying to Saint Fluttershy out loud; it was often seen as ill-omened, because of the fall of her Knights. There was something haunting about her statues in the temples of the Church; her kind gaze always covered with a white cloth to hide her eyes from seeing the shame of her followers. “In your infinite Kindness, keep its claws and teeth from us.”
“You should probably look after the orthos too, Fluttershy,” Heartwing said, joining Emberglow in her prayer. “I know he’s a vicious bloodthirsty monster, but you always had a place in your heart for those. Especially… you know who. Sorry we had to hurt it.”
Emberglow was stunned. A heretic had just prayed with her. Sure, his words were disrespectful while doing so, but his voice seemed sincere. She nearly forgot to end her prayer, and was shocked again when Heartwing joined her for the final words. “All Saints keep us.”
They could barely hear the orthos any longer. The narrow cave was dark, too small to allow much light to fill it. Emberglow focused on Heartwing’s grey tail in front of her, hoping that the cavern would neither end in a dead end nor collapse on top of them. She could still feel the walls and ground shaking from the furious monster behind them.
As they weaved through the narrow cave, though, they began to hear something else. A slight humming noise that Emberglow couldn’t quite identify was coming from somewhere ahead.
“What is that?” she asked cautiously. She saw Heartwing shrug.
“I don’t know, but… there’s strange magic up ahead. It’s the same motic signature that…” he trailed off, with a distrustful look at Emberglow, before sighing. “It’s the signature that brought us all here. I can feel it in my horn.”
“That seems way too coincidental,” Emberglow muttered. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. Let’s find out!”
Much to their dismay, though, the cave didn’t widen. In fact, it began to shrink. With each yard, the ceiling became lower and lower. With the light ahead blocked mostly by Heartwing’s body, Emberglow began straining to see at all. Both of them had to duck down, crouching uncomfortably as they tried to shimmy through the passage.
“The ceiling above us isn’t stone anymore,” Heartwing said, his voice wondering. “It’s wood. No, a root. A tree root. What is…” he fell silent. “There’s light up ahead.”
“Sunlight?” Emberglow asked hopefully, looking up at the ceiling. She couldn’t tell what kind of wood it was, but she could see it definitely wasn’t stone any more. The floor was slightly damp, as if water had recently passed through.
“Sadly, no,” he replied. “But it’s not the glowing fungi from earlier. It’s magical, that’s for sure.”
Emberglow followed him in silence, her fear like a pit of lead in her stomach. She could hear the enthusiasm in his voice; he was curious about whatever magical oddity lay ahead. But she couldn’t share his enthusiasm. Given the disaster they had just escaped from, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to see whatever abomination lay ahead.
“Can you see if the cave widens up ahead?” she asked instead.
“I’m not sure,” he called back. “But be careful, the floor is wet. This rock is smooth, it might be… ARGH!” Emberglow heard the sliding and the thump as suddenly Heartwing disappeared in front of her. His light went out, and he was no longer blocking the strange blue glow that came from the room up ahead. She couldn’t see its source.
“Heartwing! What happened?” she called out, freezing in place.
“Ow! I slipped. The floor is slippery, be care… oh… oh wow.” The unicorn went silent.
“Heartwing? Are you okay?” she asked, only Heartwing was silent. She inched forward, feeling her way on the slippery floor. She could tell why he lost his balance; the floor sloped dramatically downwards, and with the faint blue light she could see that the pathway did in fact open wider. Emberglow tried her best to nudge herself forward as carefully as possible, but the slope was too steep, and she slid into the next room, falling unceremoniously onto the floor with a hiss of pain as the impact aggravated the myriad of aches and injuries throughout her body.
The floor was not stone. It was tree root, as Heartwing had said. But Emberglow had never seen tree roots like this. They were a gray-blue color, and their structure was clearly organic, but somehow oddly crystalline as well. They covered the entire floor, most of the walls and the ceiling as well, in a tight weave. The roots grew lighter the closer they came to the center of the room, where they wrapped around and around themselves to form a round, cocoon-like structure in the center of the round cavern.
The roots around the cocoon were glowing faintly with a whitish-blue light. The hum she had heard earlier was coming from the cocoon, growing louder as she grew closer to it. It was a pleasant sound, similar to the sound made by running a wet hoof along the rim of a crystal goblet.
Underneath her hooves, the roots felt warm. There was a pulse to them, a living energy that reminded Emberglow of the feeling of holding a charged spell. It wasn’t just that, though; the entire room felt alive. It wasn’t a sinister sensation; Emberglow felt like they could lay down and rest here, and sleep for weeks. It was peaceful, restful. Her aches were fading, disappearing into memory. Even the constant pain of her sprained wing was no more. She took a deep breath, inhaling the air. It was clean, free of the omnipresent smell of dank cave water and rotting things that had filled the caves up to this point.
“This is not possible,” Heartwing whispered softly. She looked over at him; the unicorn had moved further into the room, closer to the cocoon. “This is… complete madness. It can’t be here. It was never here. It was in Ponyville. In the Everfree.”
Emberglow had no idea what he was talking about, but the words were familiar. In some of their oldest records, Ponyville was the name of the town where the earliest stories of the Saints came from. It was where Lady Rarity had first embarked on her great ambition; to clothe all of the poor and destitute ponies of the world with her generous creations. It was the place where New Canterlot City had been built, after the old capitol had been abandoned. Everfree was the name of the park district.
“What can’t be here?” she asked, and he started, as if he had forgotten she was there.
“These roots; they come from the Tree of Harmony,” Heartwing answered, running a hoof gently along the surface. “But there was only ever one tree, and it was beneath the Everfree Forest.”
“Tree of Harmony? There’s no mention of that in the Book.”
“Of course not. Anything that might remotely challenge their whitewashed version of history was excised from your mythology centuries ago,” he said idly, and she bristled at the insult to her faith. He ignored her reaction. “It’s where the Elements of Harmony came from.”
“The Elements of Harmony were a gift to Saint Twilight from the holy goddesses of the Diarchy,” Emberglow argued. “The histories are clear.”
“The histories are lies. Everything and everypony that doesn’t fit the church’s narrative is either twisted or disappears. Ever heard of Discord? Starlight Glimmer? Cozy Glow? The Great and Powerful Trixie? Spike the Dragon? The School of Friendship?” he listed, watching her non-reaction to each name. “The Tree of Harmony is the same way. The Tree grew the Elements, and gave them first to Celestia and Luna. When those two lost their connection to the Elements, the six you call Saints were chosen by the Tree to carry them.” He ran his hoof gently along the cocoon, and Emberglow could tell the magic was reacting to him.
“More blasphemy,” Emberglow countered. “Besides, this place is clearly sacred. Can’t you feel it? You profane it with your presence.”
“Of course this place is sacred. The Tree is sacred. I have no idea how its roots have grown here, but it has. I wonder what it is protecting…”
“Stop touching it,” Emberglow snapped, moving along the roots to join him next to the cocoon. “We don’t know—” She reached out to grab his hoof, to pull him away from the sphere of roots, when her own hoof brushed against the crystalline wood. There was a pulse of white light from the roots, and the hum grew louder. Both ponies backed away from the cocoon.
“What was—?” Emberglow asked, but fell silent as the roots began to move, swirling about, untangling, like a thousand tendrils of yarn all unraveling of their own accord. They made a hissing, slithering noise as they rubbed against each other, much like wind through a fully dressed tree.
Both ponies stared, open mouthed, as the roots parted to reveal a floating, glowing transparent orb. It was suspended on a platform of roots, and it pulsed slightly, as if breathing in and out. There was a mare inside.
She was gorgeous. Breathtaking. Emberglow’s breathing literally stopped as she gazed up at the magically suspended pony. Her white fur was pristine, as was her perfect purple mane. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were curled up slightly, as if in the midst of a pleasant dream. Emberglow’s gaze drifted to the mare’s cutie mark. Her triangle of blue diamonds, arranged just like they always were in her statues and paintings. Nothing Emberglow had ever seen prepared her for the sight of Lady Rarity, her Lady Rarity, floating before her in the flesh.
And then Emberglow’s eyes found Rarity’s horn.
The light faded to black as Emberglow slumped onto the ground in an immediate faint.
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Author's world building notes: There's a few tidbits some readers might find interesting here.
One, the song that Heartwing hums while he's taking off his gambeson (and messing with Emberglow) is this one here. This scene was loosely inspired by a scene from my favorite sitcom, extra bonus points if you can guess which one.
Two, the flower on Heartwing's cutie mark is a purple hyacinth, which can sometimes represent sorrow and regret. Hmm, a butterfly landing on a flower that represents regret? That's not too heavy handed, is it?
Last of all, the conversational technique Heartwing is employing at the beginning of the chapter is loosely based of a real life thing called Street Epistemology. There's some really cool literature and Youtube videos online if you want to watch people doing this in real life. I watched several when researching for this bit.
I wish I could give a like per individual chapter, each has something that makes it memorable and highlights the intricacy of the world you have envisioned. Thank you for the great read and enchanting story.
I can't wait for the next chapter!! I'm so invested in this story!
Well now. That certainly changes things. The tags kinda spoiled this twist way in advance, but still, it'll impact Emberglow all the same. Since Rarity is finally back, taken with the bit I correctly called about Starlight's horn, it's probably correct to say that the wraith in the Canterlot boutique is Starlight herself. Overall, my hype levels are through the roof. Also, you continue to excel at dream sequences.
God do I love this fic so much. It's really good and well written. The plot? superb! and the characters? excellent. Every time I see it update I get a huge grin on my face and prepare myself for some grade A content. It easily became one of my fave fics when I started to read it. I can't wait to see what happens next and what Ember does when she wakes up and how she deals with Rarity as a unicorn :)
A couple things.
Thank you for updating consistently. I love this story so, so very much. This love, however, causes great pain - I'm greedy and want more. But I m very thankful that you are one of the solid authors who has a consistent schedule I can look forward to. It would kill me if a story as wonderful as this had an irregular uploading schedule, or there were many months between chapters. I am impressed by your diligence and stability as an author. Please know that it is appreciated.
Your story has also been a great help in figuring out writing concepts for me to study more on. These few chapters in particular gave me some thought about how important it is for a writer to pose interesting questions with their narrative and fill an otherwise empty space with concepts to utilize to wondrous effect. I am absolutely hooked for these past several chapters. You're doing something very right here and it's inspirational for aspiring writers to take notes from.
Like really. Nothing but an interesting ride through a rollercoaster, and then you drop this bombshell on us with this chapter?
It was a very smart decision to place someone like Discord in with Emberglow. Someone who actually WITNESSED these things. I could not think of a better choice, combined with his wits and manipulation skills.
I think i'm going to start trimming my comments, because i've noticed that I typically ramble on about what happened in the fic, instead of providing interesting insight on the events themselves and what things mean. Consider this a kind of intermittent or anticipation comment for what comes next chapter.
Yes new chapter day! This one is so good and exciting and to have Rarity back now means I'm almost back to where I was as a prereader.
You really do so well with descriptions Apple, and much of that makes chapters like this all the more amazing. Keep up the good work, my friend! 😁
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My stories often start with 'what if' questions, and one of the 'what if' questions at the core of Rekindled Embers was the question "What circumstances would it take to change Discord, make him 'grow up', so to speak?"
There were other 'what if' questions, of course, including a silly idea to make a pony version of the episode "Living Witness" from Star Trek: Voyager (s4e23). I love that episode, because we see one character's reactions to how history has mistreated him and his friends over the passage of hundreds of years. It just felt natural to do that with either Discord or perhaps Spike, and at least Discord has a bit of a history of being a statue, so i went with him. I did briefly consider Spike in the role Discord now plays, though that idea never even made it as far as the outline.
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Just one more chapter and an interlude, and that'll be as far as you've read, Chryssy!
You know, when I saw Rarity's name in the tags, I assumed there would be a bunch of flashbacks.
You're just full of surprises, aren't you?
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Yep so two more weeks! Oh no! Then I'll have to be surprised at how things go with everyone else! XD
O O F
Ok, now things are going to get VERY interesting, especially after rereading the Radiant' prophecy.
You really like to tease what will be the chapter's twist with the letters from the beginning.
For the love of the Diarchy applezombi, pa-lease get this filly a fainting couch! Also overly dramatic horse is best horse. Magnific!
Interesting, I really look forward to how they react one another once she is freed!
Finally. Now things can get started. Really started.
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Yeah, it's really dangerous for ponies to be unconscious this much, isn't it?
In Emberglow's defense, she's exhausted both mentally and physically, and probably lightly concussed as well.
Maybe Rarity snuck a fainting couch into whatever magical effect she was trapped in?
Forgive me for the multiple comments, but i've picked up on something I wanted to discuss a bit.
First off, poor Rarity. The note about her looking as if she were in a pleasant dream is pretty heartbreaking. The first thing she's going to see is a mare devoted to the twisted, religious ideal of her, covered in traces of her forbidden lover's blood. One who has fought alongside so many who have died in the name the false "idea" of her friends. Then she'll be a pure soul stuck in this horrible world, and learn about how it's changed so much.
I wonder what will come of this. Surely Ember knows she CAN'T bring Rarity back to the Diarchy, and what will happen to the both of them if she does. And she can't tell Brightblade or the others of this, as she'll be branded a heretic. So she's kind of forced to tag along with Heartwing now, as he'll probably have some means to bring Rarity to relative safety and know what to do. Maybe take her to the Crystal Empire? With Empress Flurry Heart. That would give an excuse for Emberglow to head over there.
Gosh, so many possibilities. You did a wonderful job setting up and knocking out all the wonderful possibilities of drama and other such ideas in your story.
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No worries, I'm happy to get multiple comments! Your speculation is interesting! I love to see people's predictions, to see the different directions their minds take.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing at Ember fainting on seeing Rarity's horn, but I have been itching for that revelation since chapter 1 and it's as amazing as I'd hoped.
Also pleased that I was one of those who called that it was Starlight's horn in the Radiant ritual.
Whitewhashed? I know what you mean but people are gonna read a very different kind of whitewashing. Pegaswashing more like.
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I love how its such a utterly discord move to reveal such a big secret at the drop of a hat. So damn casual, its a hard contrast but its in charecter.
I did not see that coming.
I was wondering what new conflict would arise in Emberglow's life now that Gadget was dead.
But holy crap, I was not prepared for Emberglow to literally meet her ideal. The mere possibility of Rarity being alive did not even cross my mind. I thought she her story would be tragic and awful, but mostly a write-off.
I am simply dying to know what Rarity is going to say to Ember.
BAHAHAHAHA, sorry but I laughed for a good moment over this
The dynamic between these two is interesting. Nicely done
Hah! I was right. Can't comment more now, must get back to reading!
Could this be... Bo it couldn't, could it? The Tree of Harmony? But that wasn't in Manehattan.. .but who's tl say it can't shift position, or it might be a relative.
See, that's what I thought too. But I really wonder about that cocoon. Who is in it? The elements, the tree? Twilight frickin' Sparkles? Oh I hope, I imagine she'll tear her so called worshipers a new one.
But seriously, it could be queen Chrysalis for all we know, so maybe be a bit careful, hmkay.
Took it well didn't she.
In all seriousness though. This is awesome!
When you said mare I was like "No, it can't possibly be Celestia kn there, not again, cokld it?" You managed to subvert my expectation and make it your own, hata off to you AZ.
Haven't read as much of a thrilling character drop since the several found in Starlight Over Detrot.
Well. I've seen all that this website can offer me now, I suppose.
Finally found usage of the word Twitterpated. I can die a happy human bean.
Nanananana nanananana
BAT CAVE
Oof. The Ultima challenge.
Finally it's time for the voice of reason to be heard, and also a hefty dose of cognitive dissonance. But I think Ember is doing great so far.
Also then there's the other thing that happened. When I looked at the story tags, I was wondering and was half expecting something like this to happen. Still quite unexpected when it did. Oh boy!
I love how they came across that Harmony Tree. For some reason this spontaneously reminded me of https://youtube.com/watch?v=JDUrQSIRgOo (and also about Ori and about another fanfic I loved reading that had quite a few of those).
ps: Meh, I hate typing on mobile, but this chapter definitely deserved a comment.
I @!?# called it.
Every fiber of my being was wondering what would it be like if one of them woke up in this world, and every writer cell in my body yelled to that this is exactly what I would do.
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