A Clash of Magic and Steam

by law abiding pony

21: A Compromise

BOOM

A massive oaken door that has stood the test of time for well over a millenia old was shattered by three cannon balls. Pieces of the former door hung only by its wrecked hinges as the rest of the venerable doors collapsed in a cloud of dust. Some time later, Rarity, Lock Stock, Turnabout, several infantry, and the artillery crew approached from outside, wheeling the artillery pieces behind them.

Stepping over the shattered pieces of wood and iron, Lock Stock led from the front, sweeping the branching paths with his long-gun. When no threats manifested, he slipped inside, intending to cover the biggest exit, a pair of double doors that were straight ahead. The militia following behind him stopped short at the entrance, only to get Turnabout grumble at them to keep moving so the rest of them could enter.

Each of the Lunarians were accompanied by the noticeable ticking noise of a clock as they took control of the foyer. That ticking came from spring-loaded clockwork boxes, whose disruption fields were strong enough to keep the ambient dark magic just outside of arms length for each soldier.

“Stop lollygagging and take position,” Turnabout huffed with embarrassment in front of Rarity. Even if Lock Stock was a Color Sergeant, his professional military discipline made her militia look like they took more after the civilian part of civilian-soldier.

Rarity stepped up in between Turnabout and the artillery crew who were removing a table out of their path. Though Rarity and Turnabout’s gaze swept the entry hall for threats, they were still drawn to the architecture and furniture before them.

“By Luna’s stars, this place could fit the train engine and half the regiment if they squeezed in,” Turnabout gasped with her mouth agape. “And here I was thinking the oversized doors were just for show.”

The two most distinguishing features were the trio of cannonball size cracks in the left grand staircase, and the ribbons of purple glowing runes all over the walls and floor that gave enough light to cast everything in a pale glow. Yet it was the intact furniture, statuary, carpets, and other decorations that gave the mares pause.

The wallpaper, tapestries, and most painted surfaces were badly degraded or washed out, but the wood furniture was exquisite in design and lavishness. Every hard surface, be it wood, metal, or otherwise, showed nearly no sign of decay.

“Stay sharp. The Dark Father should be meeting us soon.” Though Rarity’s warning kept everyone on edge, the sights before her became a troublesome temptation. She warred with herself if she should take notes of the ancient designs, or keep her inquisitorial airs about her. “This place certainly has a… I’m loath to say ‘charm’ about it, but the decor is definitely a hidden gem.” Standing just outside of the miltita’s collective disruptive field, she found a piece of pottery that had been shattered by the cannonfire. Though the paints had lost their vibrancy over the eons, the relief carvings still looked fresh.

“This isn’t just some hidden gem,” Turnabout was on the verge of losing all semblance of professionalism as she ogled at the architecture and decor. “I can’t believe how much has been left intact! By Mother Moon, this whole place should be a museum for pre-Hearth’s Warming Unicornian architecture!”

Overcome by her creative muse, Rarity tactfully made her way over to her companion. “Lock my dear, hold still.” She sifted around the stallion’s bags and pulled out a pencil and journal. “Do you mind if I borrow some pages in the back of your journal? I simply must take notes.”

“Umm, could you take from the middle instead? I have some err-” he trailed off after seeing Rarity had already opened the journal’s back pages and was staring between it and him in mild irritation. “Personal artwork.”

Sighing deeply, but saying nothing, Rarity flipped to some empty pages and carefully tore them out, her hoof touching as little of the small brown book as possible. “Thank you.” She cantered off to one of the many exits from the main foyer, casting the book from her mind. Upon arriving at the lead into a dining room, she inspected the militia guarding the way, and dropped some mild advice. Her main focus however were the tapestries and furniture. I wonder if it would be too much to hope for to find a dress, or even a hat. As soon as she moved on, she started jotting down notes of fresh ideas for her next ensemble.

Turnabout was less subtle about succumbing to her scholarly leanings, and had some of her own notepaper. She barely managed to sketch the design of the intact staircase on the left when ritualistic chanting from a trio of singers came from the entrance they had made. Turnabout groaned when Blind Speaker walked in with two sailor thestrals. Silver light enveloped the choir, and sizzling black smoke trailed them as the dark miasma was burned away.

Turnabout hastily tucked her notes away and stormed over to him. “What are you doing here? I thought I confined you to the boat!”

Bowing his head, Blind Speaker kept his voice loud enough so all could hear. “We venture into the dark heart of this swamp, dear commander. Though the supposed master of the house seems accommodating, he has made no such claim for his other guests.”

Glancing around at her soldiers, it was subtle, but she could see their spirits were lifted by Blind Speaker and his two pony choir. “Fine, but stay away from the Equestrians. Got it?!”

“If my duties as chaplain allow it.” A vein popped up on Turnabout’s forehead. “Provided the Sun Blinded One does not request an audience, of course.”

Turning towards the inquisitor to see if Rarity was going to cause trouble over Blind Speaker, she was relieved to see the dangerous mare was more focused on a blot of inky shadows coalescing into a figure. Wait, what?! Abandoning Blind Speaker, Turnabout tried very hard not to sprint over to confront it.

Both she and Rarity arrived at the destroyed double doors in between the stairs by the time the Dark Father took shape once more. Lock Stock’s hoof rested on the trigger guard of his long gun. The manor already unnerved him, and the Dark Father’s mild theatrics wasn’t helping.

Stygian said nothing at first, taking a moment to survey the damage the cannons had caused. He hummed in deep amusement while stepping over a head-sized piece of broken granite. “Glad to see your destructive potential has not diminished this far from your boats.”

“We’ve come as agreed,” Rarity stated with careful diplomacy. “I trust you’ve dealt with any threats between here and your cell.”

“Yes, but hurry,” he answered with thinning patience. Freedom was so close he could barely stand any further delay. “The manor regenerates what the druids can not fix on their own. The traps will be repaired within the hour.”

“They repair themselves?” Lock Stock asked, almost stunned.

“Look for yourself,” the Dark Father replied while pointing at the entrance that had been blasted open.

Being paranoid, Rarity kept her gaze on the necromancer while Turnabout and Lock Stock followed the hoof. The great iron door hinges that had been torn from the walls were now pulling themselves back into place by some unseen hand as splinters of the great oak doors were dragged across the floor, to be restored once more..

“Evil that renews itself,” Lock Stock muttered in shivering disgust, which convinced Rarity to look upon it as well. “If this place can not wither with time, then why did the Crookbacks keep coming here?”

“It is their curse, brought upon their ancestors by the original master of this house.” The Dark Father turned away and started making his way deeper inside at a slow pace. “They are drawn to the useless service as deeply as you breathe. Now come, the sooner this blight is razed, the sooner his legacy can be wiped clean.”

Turnabout was quick enough to start barking orders to keep Rarity from doing it for her. Instead, the inquisitor leaned into Lock Stock’s ear. “Keep pace with him, but watch for threats. Only when Stygian's fully dead can we trust a word he says.”

Relief softened Lock Stock’s eyes for a moment before he set himself back into focus. “You had me worried you were going soft on him for a bit.” With no other words said between them, he collected himself and followed after the shadowy pony.

Rarity went about magically clearing the opening so the artillery pieces could move through before running to catch up to her friend.

The prison’s roots as a manor faded the further down the hallway they went. Peeling wallpaper gave way to smoothed granite, then rough stone bricks. Carpet cut sharply off to cobblestone. Opulent rooms that branched from the hallway were hauntingly empty of life. Rarity stopped at one such door to scan it for threats while Lock Stock swept the room opposite.

Rarity’s heart sank upon seeing the bedroom in front of her. By the size of the furniture, dollhouse, and the threadbare clothing hanging off the open wardrobe next to the door, spoke of this being a filly or teenager’s room. The procession kept marching on, forcing her to keep moving, but her poor mood persisted. I need to visit Sweetie Belle when I’m done here. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen that silly filly. She should still be going through the junior inquisitorial academy. If I can settle matters here quickly enough I can visit during Hearths Warming.

---

Lyra had secluded herself on the eastern side of the druid village, far away from the path the train engine was going, and had hopefully been isolated enough she could practice a bit before the duel. WIth Fluttershy assisting by removing foliage from the path, Lyra felt the need to keep busy.

She was wearing her two body length water bags while her steel staff floated nearby, held by two amber ethereal hands. Her magic was more tactile than others. Lyra could feel the small imperfections in the staff as if she were physically touching it. The heft of the staff was familiar now, comforting even.

With her gaze fixed on a single tree, Lyra created a point almost directly in front of her that caused light to bend. Her hooves started to drag along the grass as her body was being pulled into the point. Mentally counting down, she jumped just enough to get her hooves off the ground, and she was pulled entirely into the point at a frightening pace. The point was dispersed by her will and a new one was created several feet ahead and slightly higher. Her hooves only grazed the ground as she fell up into the second point, that too was dispersed before she came into contact with a third being creating further afield. Lyra repeated this process a dozen more times until she was right next to the tree. With a warcry she twisted her body in mid air with the hand following. The staff impacted a sturdy branch and smashed right through the wood in a shower of splinters. A new point kept Lyra from hitting the water and she was slingshotted up high into the air with the falling branch not quite catching like she did and instead it was sent into a neighboring tree trunk.

Lyra nearly blacked out from the sharp turn, but the mint green mare giggled the whole time at the thrill of flight. She careened herself back to the village, coming to a mad halt as one final point arrested her fall from being lethal, to a gentle landing not even ten seconds after it all started. Peels of laughter rang out and she pranced in a circle. “Ahh, it’s been too long since I’ve done that, and I still got it!”

She was preparing to do it again when she heard a hoof hit stone. All mirth evaporated. Ears up and swiveling, she scanned the village for the source of the sound, and yet there was nothing but empty houses and leaves swaying in the calm breeze. Chewing on a cheek, Lyra called out her best imitation of Rarity’s command voice, “show yourself, or I will make you show yourself.”

Lyra briefly checked the swamp beyond the village, but the sound had definitely come from the village, so she returned her attention there, and still not even a hint of a spy revealed itself.

I can’t practice if somepony I might have to kill one day is watching me.

She took a combat stance, yet before she could summon a point, an earth pony stallion jumped out from inside one of the houses. “Wait, wait, I’m a friend!”

A Lunarian friend? That’d be the day. Lyra scrutinized him carefully. The stallion seemed harmless, and while he had his rifle with him, it was slung on his back rather than in his grasp. “Why are you watching me?”

The stallion weaved through the two rows of houses between them with deliberate and careful steps so as to not make Lyra think he was planning an attack. He was also hesitant to be face to face. Even if Lyra wasn't an Inquisitor, she was still Rarity’s retainer, and the display he had seen was more than enough to earn her some forbearance. “I’m a bookie, name’s Chipper Fox, at your service.”

His tone matched his name, which tugged on Lyra’s amiability towards a fan, rather than a foreign soldier. She gave a half smile and flipped her hair. “A bookie? Trying to get some inside information?”

“Guilty as charged. A lot of ponies think the Dark Father will beat you, and your boss will take him out in revenge. A pity it’d be either one of you instead of us. But then again, I’m not the only one in no hurry to take your place in the duel.”

“Yeah, I can’t really blame you. If my friends had been taken by him, I’d want a piece too.” Lyra’s mood wilted a bit as pity struck her. She tightened her hold over her staff. “But Lady Rarity isn’t going to get that chance because I’ll destroy the Dark Father before he even realizes the fight’s even started.”

The bookie’s eyes wandered to the tree Lyra had smashed earlier. “That mighty fine display you just did is certainly impressive and all, but you didn’t see what the Dark Father did to our boats in the first week. A lot of the boys still want to believe we had just worn his army down by the time you Equestrians showed up, and wish to chalk this duel up to some desperate plan, but… I deal with numbers, and I’m not liking the odds of the boys being right that you’ll be dead.”

Lyra planted her staff hard into the soft dirt, and a bold grin crossed her face. “Well you take this to the bank. When Inquisitor Rarity needs something done with a smile and without her innate intimidation, she lets Fluttershy do it. When she needs someone who can talk military, she looks to Lock Stock to make sure the generals play nice. When she needs help in a fight or needs something dead in a hurry and she’s not available to do it, she looks to me. Clear?”

“Like glass. My sore pride as a soldier will just have to be soothed by a fatter coin purse. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he dipped his head in a short bow, “I have some bets to take.”

She watched him go with pleasant surprise. I half expected him to ask how I did my acrobatics. But somepony like him probably understands some questions are not worth dying for. Her thoughts drifted over how she could use her abilities to enhance her theatrical performances. Making props hang without glowing or wires was always the chief thing on her mind, but surely there had to be more uses. Ah well, c'est la vie.

---

The foundations of the manor, and any semblances of a house had long passed and given way to the cold stone of an cave that had been artificially widened, before they finally arrived at the Dark Father’s cell, such as it was. It was a grim chamber that sat at the bottom of a ramp easily four feet down. Aside from the Lunarians’ lanterns and Rarity’s own horn, the only source of light was the vast collection of runes and magic arrays that covered every inch of the cave. Situated in the middle of it all was a completely intact arch of smooth ebony stone easily fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide. Resting near the arch was a square cut boulder that was equally covered in glowing purple script. What looked like black fog rose three feet off the cavern floor. It was so inky that nothing of the floor could be seen. The fog emerged from inside the polished stone arch like melting dry ice before it sank to the floor. The daunting fog halted everyone’s progress, save the Dark Father himself. As the group looked further along the walls, there were a number of natural cave openings. One was dry, but the other three were damp with humidity drifting in from outside.

The Dark Father strode into the fog uncaringly and walked through a couple of tables like a cloud while Lock Stock was the first to come to a stop at the top of the ramp, to which no one behind him dared to push forward. It didn’t help that Turnabout’s disruption field, who was closest to the pool of black fog, shrank remarkably to the point that her hooves, horn, and the edge of her tail were now left exposed to the toxic mists around her. The gentle ticking from her saddlebags started speeding up one moment then slowing down the next. At first she didn’t realize what was happening until she started feeling the dull, yet growing pain on her horn and hooves. Nearly yelling in fear, she backpedaled a few steps until she got next to one of her soldiers, allowing her disruption fields to return to normal.

“Holy Mother Moon! What is all this?!”

“The beating heart of the Mirage,” Stygian declared, completely obscured by the dense soup of fog. “My prison used to be a fragment torn from a dark realm. Lord Amethyst had a name for it, but it was just Tartarus to me. Well, eventually that bastard realized what he had opened into this world and used the last years of his life trying to seal it off completely. None of his servants had any talent in his work, so he left hoping to find an apprentice, but the damned fool was far too old by then and never returned. That is why the sealing boulder can’t keep the dark realm from leaking through and influencing the real world.”

Everyone who heard him were first stunned, then those who understood the implications grew angry with one of the artillery crew members bitterly asking, “are you telling me that the Crookbacks have been protecting this - this bomb for a thousand years?!”

Those around him growled in agreed anger, with a soldier adding, “they should have told somepony ages ago.”

“Pride cometh before the fall,” Blind Speaker shouted with the righteous fury he was known for. Ponies made room for him as he stepped up to the front. “We are all children of this pillar of truth.” He clicked his tongue before zeroing in on Rarity. Yet before he could open his mouth, Turnabout roped him into a tight squeezing hug and muttered into his ear. “Speaker, you can talk filth about Celestia or Equestria when we’re on the trip back home, by the Moon I’ll join you in all of it, but I swear on Luna’s stars if you say one cross word in front of the inquisitor I will punt you back to the boat.”

He made a big show of grumbling in supreme discontent, worked his jaw and scowled until Turnabout shook him a bit. “Speakerrr…”

He loosened up and flashed the wide, toothy smile of a snake oil salesman. “Of course, of course I will hold to my word. A paragon of restraint I am, believe you me.”

She let go, trying in vain to believe he would behave. “Good.” Gently pushing him back the way they had come, Turnabout stepped up to the lip of the ramp. She found Lock Stock was looking in Speaker’s direction with thinly veiled discontent, but Rarity at least appeared like she was too busy thinking to bother reacting.

“Commander,” Rarity began once Turnabout came into earshot. “One does not need to be an expert in portals to settle the issue here. Using cannon fire, we destroy first the sealing - ‘boulder’.” She huffed, Honestly couldn’t they think of a better name? “That should allow the Dark Father to pass through the fully opened portal, then we destroy the gate with a second salvo before using your infantry magic disruptors to completely seal it.”

Glad that Rarity was not making a fuss over Blind Speaker, Turnabout focused her attention on the targets. “Should work. Probably don’t need to completely destroy the boulder, just break it up enough to ruin the thing. The arch would be lucky to survive a single cannon ball, let alone two, but my soldiers aren’t going into that soup without protection.”

“Is that not what the disruptors are for?” Rarity asked with a touch of annoyance.

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t noticed how small the protective fields are with our disruptors. We don’t get the good stuff the regular army gets, remember?” Turnabout watched Rarity’s lips, knowing full well a snide smirk was coming. “And before you say anything, I had to pull a lot of strings to get the cannons.”

“If it will set your mind at ease, I will handle the fog then,” Rarity stated with iron while turning her gaze to where the Dark Father had last spoken from. “Anything else before we get started?”

“Yes, actually,” Stygian declared from within the lightless mist. “The Mirage has claimed far more souls than you realize, and I have captured who I could over the years within the Tain. It is an artifact I’ve - created during my time here. It is not exactly a pleasant thing to be contained within, but it is far better than being consumed by the manor, myself, or the other beings that live here. As for what you do with the Tain, I leave that to you, provided my promised duel is honored.”

A Tain? Such things are only spoken of as hypotheticals at the academy. “As far as I’ve seen,” Rarity began with respect, having to hide her surprise. “You have held to your word. Celestia as my witness, you will not find my honor wanting.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” And with that, the Dark Father vanished in a gust of wind that disturbed the fog enough to pour over the ramp, making everyone but Rarity instinctively back away. Between her clothing and a fair amount of mana to keep the wards strong, she was only caught in a thin cloud of burning miasma.

Acting like she had not been holding her breath, Rarity let the cloud pass before facing the others. “I suppose I will do my part first.” She then focused on Blind Speaker with a twinge of annoyance that he was blind, then turned her attention to the rest of the Lunarians. “Bare witness to Celestia’s radiance!”

Knowing Lock Stock would alert her if anyone threatened her, she turned fully to the thick pool of poisonous magic. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the ceiling as if she could see the sun and her horn started to glow gold. “Dearest Celestia, Light of Lights, I beseech you to grant this humble servant to light the path before me so that no shadow may bar the way. Witness her power!”

As she spoke, narrow, slanted pillars of light manifested all over the chamber from the ceiling, and fog that was touched started smoking heavily. Lock Stock bore a grin, both proud and awed, at the light. Most of the Lunarians were caught between awe and fear they too might burn as the light’s warmth struck them. In a sudden crash, the whole chamber lit up like the sun itself had descended from upon high. In a blinding flash, all of the fog was incinerated, not even smoke remained to mark its passage, only a golden light that washed over everyone.

The Lunarians flinched at first, mostly because of their eyes, yet that did not stop Rarity from turning around and declaring. “Fear not. For though you and your foremothers may have forsaken her, Celestia loves all ponykind as her children. You need not fear her light, for it is not the vengeful hammer, but that of a mother’s caress upon you.”

She didn’t realize it at first, but Rarity soon noticed she was quite winded and was breathing heavily. It had been the first time she had drawn this much of Celestia’s light, and the effort left her feeling woozy. Oh my, she required a lot of me for that. She never let her zealous, wide grin be eroded by her sudden fatigue.

Soon thereafter, the holy light faded away, returning the chamber to its dim purple light. Even though the gloom had returned, it took everyone nearly half a minute to recover their wits, save Blind Speaker who approached Rarity even before the light had fully faded. “No pony with any sense denies Celestia’s divinity, for to do so would cast Luna’s own into question. Now, do we not have a job to do, or are the lot of you going to just stand there lollygagging?”

Rarity wanted to take offense at him cutting her display so short, but she couldn't find words to retort without making it sound as if she was throwing a tantrum. “That we do. Commander, I will leave you to conduct the orders while I ensure the leaks from the portal do not interfere.”

Blind Speaker’s interruption had given Turnabout more than enough time to recover from Rarity’s display and decided to ignore the exchange entirely. “Lit Fuse, get those cannons in place. I don’t want to see that boulder anymore.”

---

Ultimately, it was not the prepping of the cannons that took the longest, but in figuring out how they were going to do it without blowing everyone’s ears out with the confines being far too tight for comfort. The only thing they could do was order the third cannon crew to withdraw back outside and let the remaining two do the work.

The group eventually settled on Rarity adapting her privacy spell to enhance the sound nullifying aspect. The cannons now sat at the lip of the ramp, aimed down. Everyone including the artillery crew stood behind the cannon while Rarity’s altered spell ended up creating what amounted to a foot thick, six foot tall, floor-to-ceiling wall that looked like frosted glass. The only things passing through it were the two pull strings to the cannons.

Despite wanting to maintain the belief that inquisitors were powerful beyond measure, she was sweating heavily and getting increasingly out of breath. Lock Stock never left her side and offered her his canteen. “You’re doing fine, they’re almost done.”

Taking it, the canteen smelled vaguely of rum, but held water at the moment. Rarity took a few gulps before focusing on the spellwork and not the eyes of her erstwhile allies constantly watching for weakness. “I slipped up. Radiant Dawn always said less is more. That display earlier was too theatrical.”

“It’d’ve made Lyra proud,” Lock offered with a half-grin.

A good humored smirk found its way on Rarity’s muzzle. “She’ll probably moan the whole way home that she missed it.”

Turnabout and four artillery crew members stepped through the barrier and took their positions around the back of the guns. “All stand clear!” She only glanced at Rarity before nodding at the artillery crew. “Do it.”

In near unison, the gun commanders of both yelled, “Fire!”

Everyone’s instinct was to flinch at the expected noise, but all they heard was the rumble through the ground.

Rarity heaved in relief as she dropped the barrier, and seconds later she wished she hadn’t.

The cannon shots were spot on, and the sealing boulder had twin shatter points straight up and down. The purple glow on the face of it lasted a scant second longer before it went out and the boulder collapsed into rubble. The instant it died, the air inside the empty portal arch behind it formed a ragged tear like a festering sword wound. The inky black tear was clawed open by writhing ropes of red flesh. No unfathomable entity disgorged itself, but in its place was a tidal wave of the same black fog that had come before, only now it was flowing out faster than smoke from an overworked factory. It sank to the ground, but there was so much of the fog that it crept up the ramp at an alarming rate.

To their credit, the artillery crews hastily started reloading. Rarity took a long deep breath and called upon Celestia once more. Light pierced the gloom and carved into the smog right as it washed over the ramp. The crash of light cleared the room, with a furious cry of pain from near the portal itself.

Yet the reprieve was short-lived with the portal fully open, and Rarity was left laboriously breathing. “I don’t - I don’t think I can call on her again.” Rarity felt so utterly drained that her legs wobbled trying to keep her upright. By now, four miltilia ponies came to a skidding halt at the top of the ramp and slid saddlebags full of the ticking disruptor devices down into the incline.

Acidic black smoke immediately engulfed them all as more devices were thrown onto the bottom of the ramp. Neither Rarity nor Lock Stock could see anything, but Turnabout’s voice was still heard over the din of burning magic and coughing ponies. “Get more in there! Lit Fuse, where’s my second volley?!”

Choking black smoke raged from the disruptor devices’ fields, flooding the whole chamber and down the tunnel in a matter of seconds. “I can’t see a thing, Commander, I don’t know if the cannon’s still on target.”

Coughing from all directions threatened to erase any sense of direction left, so it was all Rarity could do but try to breathe through the fabric of her uniform, and Lock Stock to stay by her side while doing the same.

“Pegasi, get up here and clear it out already!” Lock Stock yelled in his best command voice.

No round of acknowledgement could be heard over the din, but the sudden movement of air, a gust, then finally a storm of wind blasted from within the tunnel, and into the chamber.

Blinking reddened, and horribly itchy eyes, Rarity saw a number of pegasi were now flying directly above the ramp, pounding their wings as hard as they could to keep the smoke back. Enough pegasi got to work that the smoke was intermittently clearing just enough to see the gateway.

“I got a good sight!” Lit Fuse called out. “Firing!” Everyone who heard him barely had time to try and cover their ears or cast a muffling spell before the cannons roared again.

Twin shots struck true at the points where the columns supported the arch of the portal frame. The construct crumbled like wet paper and the torrent of fog slowed to a constant trickle.

The fog still burned against the wavering influence of the magic disruptors, but it’s level was going down steadily.

Rarity desperately wished to lay down, and wobbled on her hooves. Lock Stock stepped in close and offered her a shoulder to lean on. “Amazing as always, Inquisitor. I bet not even Radiant Dawn could call upon Celestia’s light inside such an unholy place twice in a row.”

Too tired to laugh at the moment, Rarity opted to catch her breath a little longer. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Funny,” he added with a coy grin. “You said the same thing when you hired me over Firebrand. Yet I distinctly remember you muttering how good my insults were.”

Giving him a scrutinizing look, she couldn’t tell if he was misusing the word on purpose or not. “The day a quip becomes a compliment I’ll change my tune. Until then…”

Her thoughts were derailed by Turnabout clapping Lit Fuse on the back and exclaiming loudly. “Great shot, glad you came with us.”

The artillery stallion was still a bit in shock at still being alive and only nodded dumbly. Turnabout let him recuperate while whistling and circling her hoof in the air. “We ain’t done yet. I want the rest of the disrupters off your backs and formed in a line. The whole chamber needs to be swept clean, got me?” A chorus of affirmatives rang out before she turned to the Equestrians. By now Rarity had stood back up and resumed her aristocratic airs. “Lit Fuse, roll the cannons back outside. Inquisitor, I’m sure the Dark Father will be waiting for us.”

Giving an approving nod at Turnabout’s initiative, Rarity brushed some stubborn soot off her sleeve. “Agreed. I’m surprised he hasn’t already-” She paused upon seeing a black figure walk around the ruins of the sealing boulder. “Nevermind.” Leaving Lock Stock and Turnabout to mentally catch up, she cantered down the ramp and slipped by the forming militia line. The lingering remnants of dark fog were thin enough that she let her ambient magic recharge her clothing’s wards in order to repel the stubborn black magic.

Stygian was gingerly stepping in between the carpet of precious gems, taking special care to widen gaps for his hooves, rather than stepping blindly on them. As he got closer, Rarity could see him properly for the first time. Stygian was wearing a robust gray coat, but that was the only thing that looked to be in good shape. His mane was thin and wispy, like cobwebs desperately clinging to his scalp. His eyes held a pale white shine to them, yet they were focused and lively. His fur was bleached white with only sporadic patches of its original black left. He was using a featherless wing to move some gems aside, and to Rarity’s eyes, his naked wings were sickeningly skeletal compared to what she remembered from Twilight Sparkle. The purple pegacorn’s wing fingers at least looked like there was a little meat on them, but Stygian’s own were so thin, some parts of the skin had been worn away to bone. That’s when she realized everything about him was horribly thin, like he had been dried out, yet he moved without obvious issue.

Oh my. He has our form, but he’s not a pony anymore.

Instinctually repulsed by the sight of such an unnatural being, Rarity stopped her approach at the edge of the spilled gems with Lock Stock and Turnabout coming up beside her and no further. So repulsed she was, Rarity had to stop herself from scouring him with magic on the spot.

He locked eyes with Rarity first, yet suddenly had difficulty looking directly at her. He winced as if someone was sticking a hot metal poker on her forehead, and turned away to focus more on Turnabout, but she was standing too close to Rarity for his pained expression to fade entirely. “I would say it’s grand to finally stand again back in my home realm, but it's rather… hot.”

The comment caught them all off guard as the frigid winter wind that lazily blew in from somewhere in the chamber brought a fresh chill. Turnabout jumped the gun a bit and spoke up before Rarity could. “I should have you shot here and now for what you’ve done to half my regiment!”

“Which I could have just as easily done to the other half, had I not thought better of it.” Seeing that the commander was not going to be a constructive conversation partner, Stygian grimaced as he looked to Rarity. “I hope you will prove more diplomatic.”

Turnabout pressed forward and nearly stepped on a ruby the size of a fist, only for Lock Stock to hold out his long gun and pressed it lengthwise across Turnabout to keep her from taking another step. “Take care about what you step on, eh?”

Turnabout glared at him, then kicked the ruby away without looking at it, then growled at him. “I don’t need your help.”

Rarity smoothly sidestepped the commander while Lock Stock lowered his weapon before any watching Lunarians could protest. “I’d prefer to keep our dealings brief. While my wayward brethren deal with what’s left of the portal, I - can’t help but wonder what all these gemstones are for.”

“Ah, them.” Stygian idly kicked some out from under him. “They’re the mana sources I’ve been using to project my will into the real world. I don’t care what you do with them, sell them, smash them, I have no further need of them.”

“What about the Tain you mentioned?” Lock Stock queried wearily.

“Yes, of course,” the Dark Father was quick to pull his jacket open and using his opposite wing, pulled out a bronze cube, less than a hoof in size. What caused everyone to become instantly skeptical was that it had numerous small, yet crudely forged, gears that were moving with a hollow sounding tick every other second. “Fascinating isn’t it? My magic keeps it moving, which in turn keeps the souls stable.” He studied the intricate workings with the genuine affection of a craftsman revealing his masterpiece.

“How though?” Rarity asked, her skepticism, nearly overpowering her ability to sound diplomatic. “Machines disrupt magic, not act in harmony with it.” The idea of a machine alone being able to house souls was ludicrous in her eyes. “Can you prove this contains the souls the Mirage has claimed over all these years?”

He smirked with obvious pleasure in getting a chance to prove more doubters wrong. “But of course. I have hoped somepony would ask me that from the day I made it.” With a wingfinger, he flipped the Tain on its side and then indicated a glide switch. “If you wish to see them, all you need to do is slide this tab. I warn you though, the eyes of so many upon you can be… disturbing if you’re not used to it.”

Rarity’s alarm bells were on full blast in her mind, and she redoubled the wards on her clothes. “We shall see.” Rarity glanced at Turnabout who was clearly intrigued but was not making any move to be the one to call Stygian’s bluff. By the Sun, if this is a trap, Lock Stock had better avenge me. Not wanting to look frightened, Rarity stepped forward and flicked the tab before too much time could pass. The noisy clanking of the Tain changed tune to a higher pitched whine. In a flash, the whole world around Rarity fell away, only the Tain floating in her magic remained. In the world’s place arose thousands of ethereal ponies surrounding her like the audience of an amphitheater. The vast majority of the ponies looked like they were asleep, floating in mid air like dead fish. However, more than enough of them were not only awake, but were taking notice of her.

Those that did started to draw near, floating above and below. Their clothes spanned the length and breadth of the social classes through the last thousand years, including many soldiers and druids.

“Who are you? You’re not the Father!” one unseen mare called out.

“I know what she is!” came a voice in anger.

“It’s an inquisitor, an actual inquisitor!” came a cheering stallion who wore the garb of a Solar Church priest.

“Look, she’s not see-through like us! Does that mean the Dark Father got back to the real world!?”

The crowd started charging Rarity en masse. Some looked like they wanted to kiss her hooves, others tried to push past the others with murder in thier eyes. Many just pleaded to be freed. Yet before they could touch her, the Tain’s switch clicked back. The dead vanished and the real world returned. The pale white mare managed to be even paler as she suddenly realized she was gasping for air, and sweating so heavily that she was weak in the knees. It had been Lock Stock who had pushed the switch back and he held onto Rarity, gently shaking her in the process. “Hey, you alright? What happened?!”

Blinking dumbly at first, then a few more times to collect herself, Rarity controlled her breathings and carefully pushed the stallion off of her. “Thank you, Lock, that… It’s real.” Shivering in fight and trying to banish the sight of so many ghostly faces, Rarity struggled to calm her voice. “It’s very real.” With a final long sigh, she looked at the grinning necromancer. “How? How can a machine and magic work together!?”

Stygian’s grin became toothy, revealing blackened teeth. “To put it in small words, my magic was the key. Either that being me in particular or something else I can’t exactly determine since I’m the only full bodied pony in that hellish realm. And even then I’m not what I once was.” Frowning a bit, he haltingly presented the Tain to Rarity. “Here. You’ve proven honorable enough to take it before the duel. My magic will keep it going for a day at most. After that, the souls will either perish or be released, I never wanted to experiment to see which.” He turned the artifact on its other side to reveal a trio of keys. “Turn them all at once, to stop the gears. That should allow your magic to reach those trapped within.”

Rarity wasn’t sure if she should even touch the thing, either with magic or by hoof. Ultimately she opted to try and claim it in her telekinesis. To her astonishment, the Tain was heavy, as bronze often is, but her magic had no issue levitating it. “By the light of the Sun! I can actually hold it.” Rarity inspected the gearwork inside, still in shock that her magic could touch the thing. Perhaps he is speaking the truth after all. the Tain was cold, like holding an ice cube on a windy winter day, but it didn’t give off the oily feeling of black magic. She held the Tain close and gave the necromancer an appreciative nod. “You have my thanks. Commander, I’ll be moving the Tain outside before I see about allowing these souls to pass on.”

Rarity was about to leave when Turnabout turned sharply on her. Righteous anger and the boiling indignation of having to work with an inquisitor who kept cutting into her command authority finally broke out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you! There are Lunarians trapped in that thing too, and I’ll be damned if I let you send them on to the Blinded One!”

Rarity made a show of appearing surprised and tilted an ear. “And? Do you you know the proper rites to free a soul from such an artifact?” Granted I was only taught this for only four hours. It’s not like we’re expected to ever deal with soul housing artifacts, but it's more than any of them.

Turnabout worked her jaw trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t blind aggression, but she did not look away from Rarity’s faintly smug expression. “Are you trying to tell me rogue tinkerer necromancers are such a problem in Equestria that liberating things like the Tain is standard training for you inquisitors?”

The redness in Rarity’s cheeks betrayed her inexperience, yet she thought of a quick reply all the same. “Lost is the soul that wants for a fire in winter. Book of Swords, chapter twenty one page eight second line.” Rarity derisively gasped. “Oh, of course expecting such reading from a Lunarians is a stretch. Lock Stock, be a dear and give your version.”

Smirking, the earth stallion didn’t even need a second to think. “Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it.”

Every slight, every petty insult real or imagined bubbled up on Turnabout, and she was seeing red on the edges of her vision. Every ounce of her being screamed at her to kill her most feared and hated enemy. The voice of reason holding her back was getting drowned out by the second. “That treaty gets broken if either side harms the other, and you sending Lunarian souls down to burn in Celestia’s revenge is no different!”

Lock Stock’s smirk faded in a hurry as he noticed every single soldier had stopped what they were doing and many of them had already readied their weapons. “Uhh, Ma’am, I think we should-”

Rarity didn’t raise her voice like Turnabout did, but she sounded no less threatening. “If you think I’m going to let you take this back to Lunaria you are sorely mistaken.” She looked to Stygian. “You didnt happen to add in some ability to separate which souls can be given last rites at a time did you?”

The shadow pony was taking his robe off, and his fur was drenched in sweat. His breathing was as ragged as his patience. “You’re not serious are you? The Tain is a masterpiece, not a miracle machine.” He shook his head upon realizing he was drifting off topic, and kept speaking harshly, making sure no one could get a word in. “Can this bickering not wait? The Tain’s energies will not last, and I refuse to recharge it again just so you lot can keep arguing. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain and then some. I will brook no further delay on my duel.”

Lock Stock broke protocol and pulled alongside Rarity and ribbed her a bit. “That sounds like a grand idea. It’ll give us time to cool our heads, and work out a compromise.” Rarity pulled back from Lock and was about to reprimand him, but it was only then that she noticed how all the soldiers were inches from opening fire. That would not have overly concerned her were it not for all of them standing next to or wearing their magic disruptors.

Turnabout was slower to notice the same thing, so Rarity verbally pounced before the commander decided to press the issue one way or another. “Yes, of course, Mister Stygian, let us not abandon diplomacy so readily.” She gave Turnabout a one-eyed stare as she mostly faced the Dark Father. “It would be unwise to close that door just yet.”

Stygian was starting to shake now, his legs wobbled, and his right ear kept twitching beyond his command, yet he muscled through it. “Finally.” His marching for the exit jarred the soldiers out of focusing on Rarity and most were lost on either letting him pass or stopping him, so they looked to Turnabout for orders.

Still recovering from her bout of anger, the commander started shaking too, only it came from realizing just who she had nearly came to blows with. Even after days of working with Rarity, the inquisitor still terrified her. Even while her body shook with fear, she still held calm command over her voice. “Right… right.” This time, she violently shook her head to clear her thoughts. She blinked and searched for her master sergeant. “Peat Moss, once - once we finish sealing the portal, get some boys to go pick up anything that can chisel stone and start destroying all the runes they can find. No runes, and this place can’t eat any more souls, and pick some boys you trust to go look for anything of value here. Money, fancy items, doesn’t matter. Might as well try to recoup some of our losses.”

“Aye, ma’am. We’ll make off with every scrap of silver in this forsaken place.”

The idea of looting the place had been dancing in Rarity’s mind as well, but she had no illusions about being able to make off with a ship’s load of valuables. She pulled Lock Stock over so she could speak with him discreetly. “I’ll triple your pay for this endeavor and throw in a good bottle of rum if you can find some choice suits or dresses. The more unorthodox looking the better.”

He wilted a bit at the request, even if the reward was more than enough motivation. “Ma’am, I like looting as much as the next trooper, but I don’t have an eye for fashion like you do.”

“True, but try to imagine how you’d react to seeing yourself wearing the suits, or Fluttershy wearing some vintage dresses.” Lock Stock’s ears went straight up and a smile started creeping in. “Or your future wife Lyra, whoever is preferable. Those drawings of her were quite flattering in the correct lighting I’m sure.”

“You know full well those drawings had nothing to do with that tone deaf nag,” Lock Stock cowed a bit at the mental image of Lyra in a wedding dress. “I’ll see if there’s a master bedroom or something.” Lock Stock backed away from her as if she had tried to feed him a worm.

After waiting for Rarity to stop laughing behind a hoof, Blind Speaker stepped in between her and Turnabout. “Teasing one’s companions aside, I believe I can devise a solution to the Tain issue. First, let’s bring it to the statue back in town. It may be a depiction of battle, but it does have both sisters in equal light.”

Both Rarity and Lock Stock went wide-eyed at the idea, and he leaned into Rarity’s ear. “Sounds good to me. Where better to release those souls than beholding Celestia’s divine form?”

On that, there was no debate in Rarity’s mind. She nodded appreciatively at him before announcing to the others. “The statue… Yes, that is for the best. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave to oversee the duel since our gracious host seems so bent on doing it without delay.”

“Actually, inquisitor,” Blind Speaker called out before Rarity could leave. “You must know you will not be conducting any sort of last rites on the Tain without compromise. Perhaps you and I can work out an arrangement?”

Turnabout stared at him in surprise at first, then turned to desperate concern. “Speaker, what are you-”

He silenced her by raising a hoof. “Dear child, the souls of our brethren are at stake. To see them given the peace they deserve is my only concern.”

Taking a long slow breath, Turnabout nodded slowly. “I’ll trust you with this. Just be careful of that tongue of yours.”

Giving a smiling nod, Blind Speaker approached the reserved inquisitor. He gestured to the exit. “May we speak of such matters in private, and away from this dreadful place?”

And yet again, Rarity was at a loss as to how to read the blind thesteral. Reading body language was intrinsic to modern inquisitorial doctrine, and yet the old stallion before her constantly left Rarity uneasy. Blind Speaker was controlled, that much she could tell, but not in the way of minimizing his movements, no, he was quite animated for one of his advanced age. Between his tired, yet polite smile to his casual stance, he appeared amicable to her eyes, disturbingly lacking any hint of masked motives. Yet the previous night when he turned on a dime and started calling for her death on the boat, his aggression then looked just as real. Worst of all, so much of a pony’s readability came from their eyes, and here was a well practiced stallion already leagues ahead of her by simply having a blindfold.

Stay calm, Rarity, it wouldn’t do to lose face in front of an old stallion with two hooves in the grave. Swallowing her ill-at-ease, she turns to Lock Stock. “Go on ahead see about that looting I know you’ve been itching to get started with.”

Lock Stock was slow, but eventually nodded with a growing smile. “Oh yes, because dress hunting is my idea of looting. You know, I think you missed your calling as a diplomat.”

Laughing in spite of herself, Rarity ended the merriment with a long sigh. “I’ve had to wear a great many hats haven’t I?”

Keeping a lingering eye on Rarity, Lock Stock made his way to the tunnel and back outside. Now that she was by herself once more, Blind Speaker stepped up and waved towards the exit, prompting her to join him in leaving as well. They walked side by side at a slow pace he was able to keep up with. Rarity soon after summoned a privacy spell that would make it look like the two were not speaking to each other. “I’m not sure what proposal you can possibly have,” she started off with. “So, which Blind Speaker am I talking to this time?”

“Only the one you intend to.” He flicked his ears, noticing how the sounds of hooves on stone sounded hollow, and voices were distant and tinny. Realization of what spell Rarity was causing dawned quickly on him. “Inquisitor, there’s been something that’s bothered me about the druid orders ever since learning about them. With you or I, we venerate the true goddesses of this world, we argue over which sister to follow, but we never challenge the legitimacy of the other.”

Wrinkling her brow, Rarity briefly focused on the path ahead. Some soldiers who had already been carrying tools capable of breaking stone were already at work destroying the glowing runes that ran along the walls. The purple glow dimming with each strike. “That was a concern for me as well when I was approached about enlisting Fluttershy. The inquisition understands the Green Mother arbitrates the passage of druids after they die. She only holds dominion over the material world, the Sisters, and by extension, the afterlifes each tribe is promised is beyond her hold.”

“Really?” he asked with surprised interest. “Rock Salt had held his tongue on matters the Crookbacks held where it was not relevant to our expedition. That being said, while I am sure the majority of the souls the Dark Father saved came from Rock Salt’s kin, I am of the mind that they should still be blessed with Luna’s divinity before fully passing on.” He leaned an ear her way. “And you wish the same for Celestia.”

He left his words to hang in the air, giving Rarity several seconds of thought that went wildly faster the closer she got to realizing his intentions. She came to a stop near a storeroom filled with long expired spices and herbs. “You - you can’t be… Are you seriously suggesting we do a joint last rites?” Blind Speaker made no reply, and simply kept walking as if she had said nothing at all, and that alone was all the confirmation Rarity needed. “You are, aren’t you? No tricks, no jest?”

Giving a tired sigh, weighed down by his age, Blind Speaker nevertheless kept walking. “I am old, child, old enough to be your great grandfather. I have lived and seen love, hatred, misery, joy, suffering, happiness, war, and peace. At times when I am alone, I can’t help but to wonder if the Sisters gave up on us.”

Rarity narrowed her eyes a bit, unsure of what he was planning. “That’s not possible. When I prayed to Celestia just minutes ago, her light cleared the poison from this place.”

“Ohhh, yes it was very impressive,” he retorted with vaguely disgruntled energy. “And if it was her light that helped us, then why were you so winded afterwards?”

“Because we mortals are the conduits through which Celestia acts through. Such is her power, that we are but leaves before a hurricane.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard such explanations before from the Lunar Church as well.” He grew impatient, like a father trying to teach a stubborn teenager. “Yet no pony wants to remember our ancestors possessed divine magic before the Sisters appeared. We have placed them on such a monumental pedestal that no pony thinks we are capable of divinity ourselves if we work together as the heroes of Hearth’s Warming once did.”

Huffing in disappointment, Rarity sped up to outpace him. “So I’m speaking to the inflammatory Speaker right now. I will not yield those souls to Luna. When matters with the Dark Father are complete, our parley will be at an end.” She ended the spell and stormed off, leaving the old stallion equally frustrated. “I suggest you inform the commander.”

Age tried to slow Speaker’s steps, and he had no hope of keeping pace with Rarity, but he tried all the same. “Damn fool of a girl. If bargaining is what you want, then a bargain you shall have.”

It actually wasn’t what Rarity wanted, but curiosity made her stop and face him once more. She lit her horn, masking their speech. “I grow tired of your games. Speak truly, or dont speak at all.”

Blind Speaker’s ears twitched, searching for the signs of the privacy spell again. “A pity your patience is so short today. I’ll be brief then. Join me in a last rites ritual that venerates both Sisters, and I will give you a copy of Luna’s journal in the final year of the Schism War.”

Rarity was so bewildered by such an unexpected offer, she let the privacy spell slip. It was only when the noise of walking hooves and chiseling stone came clearly did her brain reboot and she blinked a few times and resumed the spell. She turned her head a bit, and her left eye scrutinized him closely. “Why and how do you even have such a thing?”

Seeing that he had her interest once more, Blind Speaker checked to make sure sounds were muffled again. “At my age and profession, I’ve made a fair number of powerful friends. I commissioned one of them twenty years ago to break the cipher on her wartime journal. He finally came through last month and read it to me multiple times. I still can hardly believe some of it, which is why I was on my way to get it translated into Braille when Turnabout requested me to join her little expedition. I have both the copy and the cipher text with my belongings back on the boat. Aid me with this, and they’re yours.”

Intrigue pulled on Rarity like a train. It hardly mattered if it was Celestia’s or Luna’s writing, both were invaluable for either reverence and insight, or glimpse into the mind of the enemy to the Inquisition. And yet she held fast a bit. “It can’t be that simple. Not with you.”

Fear of generating too much paranoia, Blind Speaker sighed deeply. “I want to see the Sisters returned to us, yet all of my remaining leads into their disappearance point to Equestria. You, an inquisitor, have access to resources I do not, and I am too old to try for much longer.”

Rarity scoffed, hardly believing what she was hearing. “Are you seriously trying to pass your mission onto me? Of all ponies?!”

“Aye.” He squared himself, and his voice grew grave. “I believe that the Sisters are trapped together, wherever they are. If they are lost within some place inside Equestria, who better to free them, than you? If I’m wrong, I can already get another copy of Luna’s journal, and have my son continue my efforts, but I have to try, for Her sake.”

Rarity went silent for a spell, and dropped her privacy screen. Her eyes drifted here and there as her mind warred with what to do. The Inquisition would never accept this joint ritual, journal or not. And yet… What greater duty can one have than to see Celestia restored, even if it might be a fool’s errand. If that requires Luna’s return as well, then I will accept whatever judgment Celestia has for me.

Fervor filled her thoughts, but caution cooled her back down. “I must see this journal for myself. Lock Stock is skilled with cryptography, so translating enough of it to verify its authenticity shouldn’t take long. But you must do one thing for me. If you are lying, you will surrender yourself to me to be taken before the Crown.”

Blind Speaker recoiled at the implication. The fear of being striped was just as strong now as it had been when he was a youth. He collected himself quickly enough. “Child, I would hope you could trust me enough not to blaspheme against Luna. But if this is a promise you need, then I accept your condition.”

“Oh no,” Rarity cut in with a wave of her hoof. “This must be sworn before your commander so that you cannot Renege on our agreement.”

“By all means, I accept.”

Though she didn’t show it, the ease with which he agreed to her demands irritated her. How do I keep missing the mark with him?

Rapid hooffalls towards the exit first grabbed Blind Speaker’s attention, and then Rarity’s as she turned to find an earth mare and a pegasus stallion were racing towards them. “Honored Speaker!” The pegasus called out. He came to a stop while the mare thundered on. “The Dark Father’s already wanting to start the duel.” the stallion grew extremely nervous and didn’t even want to acknowledge Rarity was even there. “He wants the Inquisitor there as a witness.”

Blind Speaker waved the stallion to the ground. “Really? I thought he wanted us to break the manor’s soul trapping enchantments with the train first.”

Rarity hummed as she thought back on how ill Stygian had looked and acted. “Something tells me he doesn’t have time to wait, and is probably hoping that the trapping effect will be disrupted by our efforts here,” she said while pointing at one such soldier chiseling away at some dead runes on the wall. There was no attempt at making it clean cut, just sharp chunks torn off the wall in haste.

“In any case we had best hurry.” The soldier understood Blind Speaker’s unspoken request and knelt down so he could carry the aged stallion on his back. Speaker gave a word of thanks before addressing Rarity. “Stygian might get impatient and decide to fall back on his first plan.”

“I doubt he would, but it would be uncouth to keep him waiting unnecessarily,” Rarity stated as she stepped ahead of the two. “Keep our agreement in mind for when it is over, Blind Speaker.” Waiting just long enough for him to grunt affirmatively, she galloped off with the pegasus coming in right behind her.

Comments

[PiMan]

I do find this side of the story interesting, but I'm more excited to see more of Twilight's story.
One more of this then back to Twilight, I'm guessing?

[law abiding pony]

11152524
Depends on how the fight goes. I'll definitely get the duel and the Tain dealt with in the next chapter. If it doesn't run too long, i will also be putting in Rarity's report back to her superiors in the same chapter, then back to Twilight.

[Sunkiller]

hmm.

[goranxii]

I honestly hope Blind Speaker ends up earning Rarity's trust, because he's honestly a great character.

[Eurvos Morgenbrise]

11152728
Yeah, I always felt his about-face in their earlier talk was just an attempt to save face with his fellows. It would really screw over his endeavor to get both Sisters back if he were to be accused of treason with that much more at stake.

[goranxii]

11154095
That was my take on it too.

[BirdsBooksBrownies]

I noticed a few typos in this chapter if you don't mind me pointing them out:

His tone matched his name, which tugged on Lyra’s pleasablity towards a fan, rather than a forgien soldier. She gave a half smile and flipped her hair. “A bookie? Trying to get some inside information?”

foreign

pleasability, I don't know for sure if this is what you were aiming for but I think you might consider changing it to the words amiability, amicability, or affability.

And a few sentences down this popped up:

but surely there had to be more uses. Ah well, se la vie.

"C'est la vie"

Hope this helps

[Ruby Sapphire]

Really can't wait for the next chapter this is a really unique concept and you have managed to portray it perfectly so far.

[PonyofEntropy]

Great update.