22: Duet
Shortly after the would-be bookie had bothered Lyra’s warm up plans, the mare decided to return to the village fence closest to the manor. She found Fluttershy perched up on top of a moss covered house participating in a rigorous debate with two Lunarian pegasi. The air around them was thick with heated discussion. Yet upon seeing Lyra, one ribbed his partner, pointed Lyra out, and both fled.
Seeing how Fluttershy did not look any worse for wear, Lyra did not race over to investigate, but did ask upon reaching the house. “What was that about?”
Sighing more out of relief than anything else, Fluttershy tried to affix a passive smile on her face, only to fall short at a half-irritated and relieved one. “I wanted to ask them how Rock Salt was doing, and they turned it into an excuse to tell me I was damaging druid neutrality by serving Equestria, let alone an inquisitor.” Upon saying it she deflated even further now that a friendly face was here.
Lyra huffed at the departing Lunarians and leaned against Fluttershy’s house. “Hey, it’s not like you aren’t your own pony or anything. You’re doing what you think is right.”
“It’s so easy to ignore or forget that they believe they’re doing the same thing.” Fluttershy glanced down at the musician who couldn’t decide to look up at the pegasus in grim acknowledgment or not, so she kept her eyes fixed on the manor. “Morality is what we decide it is, Lyra. Is Celestia right, or is Luna? We all make a choice, even if we think there is no choice. The Green Mother cares only for who is the fittest. I simply believe Equestria will inevitably reintegrate Lunaria back into itself. Steam and gear are power yes, but are not enough. Not to mention Equestria has the backing of an alicorn once again.” The enstripment is a mistake that will bite them in the end though. Fluttershy wanted to mention that, but felt Lyra was the wrong pony to voice such a concern. “Not to mention the innovator General Shining Armor is, the Green Mother smiles on him.”
The mental image of a giant plant mare patting a general’s head made Lyra chuckle. “You’re a piece of work, you know that Butterball?”
Finally, a ghost of a humored smile returned to Fluttershy. “At this point, I’m thinking of making a mental list of how many times I hear that.”
Looking around, Lyra spotted Fluttershy had moved the saddlebags she and her friends had brought to the house. Nosing around her bag, Lyra found a pouch of mixed nuts and idly started munching on them while keeping an eye on the manor. A lot of black smoke had come pouring out from behind it, but aside from a lone panicky soldier, no one else seemed to leave the place with any real alarm.
It had been close to half an hour since the soldier had retreated to the dock, and thus far no one had run out of the place screaming for help, nor had anyone from the dock race into the manor. So Lyra was confident everything was going smoothly. The grounds she expected to be fighting on was a bare patch of clay roughly fifty feet from the edge of the protective bubble of the village and the mouth of the manor. Perfect place for a straight fight. Not a lot of loose mess around so my singularities shouldn’t cause any debris to go flying into me. Let’s hope he doesn’t take it too personally if I end his little duel quickly.
“I’ve never asked,” Fluttershy inquired, breaking Lyra out of her thoughts. “But why do you serve Rarity?”
Lyra looked around and there weren’t many Lunarians around. Most were either staying with the boats, helping create a path for the engine, or went into the manor with the artillery team. Only four had remained at the far end of the fence with no interest in mingling, and they were too preoccupied with a poker game.
Sighing, Lyra chewed on a walnut. “The inquisition’s been better to me than they could have been. I remember the day Spoiled Rich tried to - take me. The Grand Inquisitor stopped it and let me stay in the academy. Said I couldn’t be an Inquisitor, but I could still serve. Probably why he didn’t care that I ducked out a lot from classes that wouldn’t be useful to me.”
“Take you?” Fluttershy leaned over the edge of the house to look at Lyra a bit more critically. “Or Stripe you?”
Had the question come from anyone outside of Rarity’s entourage, Lyra would have shut the conversation down hard, but with Fluttershy, she felt like the druid was as trustworthy with secrets as a tree, but even that only went so far. “Nah. I’m a Canterlotian born and raised. Just not the way people think.” Lyra casually dumped the last few pieces and the crumbs in her maw while Fluttershy looked on in growing confusion. “Anyway, how fast do you think I can take this guy down? One move? Maybe two?”
Deciding to go along with it, Fluttershy sat back straight again and looked over her injured wing. “You don’t think he’ll put up much of a fight?”
Lyra scoffed in supreme derision as she grabbed a canteen. “I’d be a war mage if I could cast regular magic, and the loon wants to have an honor duel. He can cram his honor, I’m going to fight him like I would in a real battle.”
“I hope that’ll be enough,” Fluttershy said, trying to sound optimistic. “Do you have something… what is it that you said that one time…? A card up your sleeve in case things go badly?”
Lyra’s first response was a negative, but she stopped short and pulled out a small green leather satchel half the size of a hoof out from inside her mane. “Yeah… Rarity told me to get this thing for her, but never took it after I got named to be the fighter.” Lyra tossed it up in the air and caught it again before storing it away in her mane again. “Not that I’ll need it.”
Chugging a good bit of her water, Lyra wiped her lips to find a dark figure walking out of the manor. At first she thought it was just a dark furred militia member until the Dark Father’s voice magically bellowed out.
“Servant of the Inquisitor, face me as agreed!”
“What? Now?” Lyra asked Fluttershy more than the distant necromancer. All the druid could do was shrug in equal confusion. “Eh, alright then.”
Lyra’s disembodied magic hands grabbing her staff, she walked just outside the fence with a casual swagger. The mare had not one ounce of concern, which was only compounded upon by Stygian coughing and shaking like he had a fever. “I’m right here, Dark Father!” She called out, earning a pleased smirk out of the sickly stallion. “But doesn’t a duel need a proper set up, such as a ceremony and witnesses?”
“I have made my prayers to the Armada on the way here, and those behind you will serve as witnesses.”
Glancing back at the card players and Fluttershy, the druid had carefully climbed down and gave silent support to Lyra. One of the card playing pegasi had bolted away calling for people to gather and watch. It wasn't long before a number of pegasi and thesterals were already flying over the village to do just that. The ground pounders will be right behind them I’m sure. Good. I’d hate for them to miss this.
Turning back to her opponent, Lyra idly tapped her fore hooves with the end of her staff. “Where’s my boss and everypony else?”
“I’m sure they will be along shortly,” Stygian assured impatiently with a suppressed grunt. “But I am not waiting for them.” He started walking away from the manor and rounding the clearing between them so there was a solid wall behind him. “The rules are simple. To the death, and you may rely only on your own abilities.”
“Those are the only rules?” Lyra asked in a purposefully clear voice. She still looked at ease, but she tightened her grip on the staff and started gauging the distance between them.
With a flare of impatience, as if he were talking down to a child, Stygian grunted. “There’d be far more if we could both fly, but for the two of us, yes.”
Nodding, Lyra stated with no sign of even wanting to participate in the first place, “Oh. Good.”
Stygian was about to speak again when Lyra suddenly looked strange, as if she was just a reflection in a pond of disturbed water.
Lyra formed a point right in front of her with enough force to rip her from the ground. Staff raised and ready, Lyra fixated her gaze on Stygian like a hawk. With a slight jump, just enough to get her hooves off the ground, Lyra rocketed towards the Dark Father. Wind tore at her eyes and pushed her ears flat against her skull. Stygian only had enough time to barely widen his eyes before Lyra flew right by him at frightening speed, her swinging staff connected with his face and the stallion was obliterated into pieces.
She hastily created a new singularity to pull her up, but her forward motion was so strong she had to run along the manor’s wall until she cleared it to the roof. Using a third point, she pulled herself the rest of the way into the roof where Lyra finally came to a skidding halt. The hard impact against the wall and rough landing shot lances of pain up Lyra’s legs and her hooves ached, so she sat down and impotently blew on a friction-heated hoof. “Owwe. Wish he had stayed in front of the doors.”
Across the way, Fluttershy sighed and lightly shook her head. “At least it was quick.” Several Lunarians around her were in various states of bewilderment.
“Wait, what just happened?” asked one.
“I blinked and it was over?!”
“She killed the pony who’s been up our tails all month that fast?!” came an angier voice.
Ignorant of the growing discontent among the Lunarians, Lyra stood up and shook her staff to clear some of the blood and chunks off. Yet she stopped when the colors were wrong. Taking a closer look, the viscera on her staff were greys, sickly greens, and awash with brown fluid. It turned her stomach far more than the expected red blood and other pieces. “Oh by Celestia what is all - oh boy, that’s gross.” Trying harder to shake her staff clean, Lyra ignored the distance-muffled cries from afar until she barely heard Fluttershy call her name.
Upon looking up, she saw Stygian on the ground, intact, and facing her with his wings glowing black. “What?” Suddenly, his wing fingers grew and shot towards her just as fast as she had before. They missed grabbing her neck thanks to Lyra rolling backward and shoving her staff in front. Stygian’s ethereal wings clamped down around Lyra’s magic hand and the staff itself. Attempting to separate the staff from its master, Stygian ripped everything back towards the village.
Yet in doing so, Lyra was sent careening along with the staff even though he had not grabbed her. His follow up attack faltered upon realizing this and he blankly watched her nearly crash against the ground and instead come to a rolling stop at the village fence. Rather than being frozen in shock, Lyra scrambled back to her hooves and held her staff defensively in front of her again. “Celestia’s Light. You should be dead!”
Shaking his head and causing his wings to glow again, Stygian spoke with a chiding tone. “You’re a thousand years too late for that to work.”
Though she was shaken, Lyra prepared a new singularity and readied her stance. “We’ll see about that.”
Stygian thrust his wings into the ground, sinking into the clay like it was water. Wind started to kick up with him at the center as he pulled the swamp’s ambient dark magic through himself and into the earth. Dark magic flowed from his skin like a cloak.
Lyra kicked off the ground, falling into her singularity and straight towards the Dark Father. He made no move to protect himself as she roared directly overhead while her red glowing staff bisected him vertically from crown to belly. Skidding along the ground, Lyra briefly spotted Rarity had emerged from the manor, but the mage had to keep her attention on Stygian.
He had not fallen over after her attack, and instead ribbons of gray flesh were already crisscrossing to recombine his two halves. He can’t keep that up forever. At least that was Lyra’s theory. She formed a new singularity and launched herself at the necromancer. Barely ten feet into the attack, multiple skeletal legs, wings, and pony skulls burst out of the ground between her and Stygian. Many grabbed at Lyra, scratching at her passing leaving long but shallow cuts all over her belly and legs. The sudden appearance of dozens of skeletal ponies struggling to claw out of the clay shocked her into missing a pair of legs bursting out directly in front of her and grabbing her forelegs.
Almost in a panic, Lyra let go of the singularity and pushed her staff against the ground to keep from face planting it. She saved her head, but not her chest and forelegs from landing hard on the clay. Stygian planned to follow up by raking her with his shadowy wings, but Lyra saving her face while never directly touching the staff in doing so caused baffled hesitation.. He recovered when she swiped one of the grasping legs with her staff, yet Stygian commanded the other skeletons to close in.
Lyra’s staff twirled like a scythe, cutting down the puppeted bones as they came near, but more and more limbs pulled themselves free of the clay, constantly dragging her to the ground. Through the mass of skeletons bearing down on her, she saw the Dark Father flashing inky black magic into his wings again, expanding them and threatening to swipe at her from behind his army. As they grew, the wispy black wings moved through his minions without harm, but Lyra was under no illusion that she’d be spared as well.
Off on the sidelines Fluttershy stood among nearly a hundred militiaponies who couldn’t decide if they wanted to cheer Lyra on in killing their tormentor for the last weeks, or jeer for her to fail so they could kill Stygian themselves. Through it all, Fluttershy dearly wished she could help her friend.
Thoughts calling upon the grasses and trees inside the village to entangle the skeletons as surely as they hobbled Lyra ached to become action. But she couldn’t bring herself to break the duel, not unless Rarity made a move first. So she did what she could, cheer for Lyra in the best way to help her friend. “Come on Lyra. Stop fooling around!” That earned some odd looks from those around her who heard that.
“I’m trying!” came Lyra’s distant and disgruntled reply as she smashed another skeleton to pieces with a wide sweep of her staff and shoved back a second that got close enough to try and bite her.
Standing under the manor’s door frame, Rarity dearly wished to step in and save Lyra, but once again she felt restrained by words. Yet that wouldn’t stop her if she saw Lyra give up for even a second. Cowering, a cry for help, a grievous injury, any of it would see Rarity jumping in to cut Stygian down for good. Come hell or high water she’s walking away with her life.
Keeping her wits about her, Lyra summoned a singularity directly above her and slammed her staff on the strongest leg still holding onto her with enough force to break both the leg’s hold on her and crack a rib. So focused on staying alive she felt no pain, yet the act did little as her attack on her restraints gave other skeletons time to close in. One came in to bite and claw her face with time worn hooves. She stopped it with the shaft of her weapon , but she couldn’t stop the second from carving large wounds into her flank, bisecting her destiny mark.
The breathing room she got from breaking one of the legs holding her down gave her enough leverage to kick out at the clawing assailant and knock it down, but not away.
“Come on now, you begin to bore me,” Stygian half-reprimanded. “Is that all you have? Where is your spell fire? Your shield? Don’t tell me all you can do is fly and swing a glorified club around.”
With a growl of anger, Lyra pushed the skeleton on her head back enough to get in a shattering swing on it before turning it against the one threatening her flank. Yet it was for naught as four more were already lined up, waiting for space to attack her. “It woulda worked just fine if you weren’t some undead freak.” The staff had to swing low across her mane to stop one more attack going for her neck. The act sliced a number of hairs off her mane, and dislodged the forgotten green tailor’s kit which landed on the ground near Lyra’s snout. Realization dawned on her in a flash.
“You walk with an inquisitor,” Stygian chided and he was content to let his bone puppets finish the job. In truth he felt exhausted for the first time in millennia. He wanted to save what strength he had for Rarity, and reforming his body was not as trivial as he made it look. “You should be prepared for threats of any nature.”
Unable to release a hand from her staff, lest she let the slashing, mangled hooves of a skeleton claw her eyes out, Lyra resorted to snatching the tailor’s kit in her mouth and bit down as hard as she could.
Like a popped balloon, light exploded from the kit, scorching her mouth even as she tried to spit it out. Needles of gold shot out like barely perceivable motes of light striking every skeleton both above ground and those holding Lyra down. Stygian shielded himself with his wings and felt a thousand tiny searing cuts rip his magic off his wings with the last needle burying itself in his cheekbone.
The skeletons looked undamaged, but they all fell to the ground like stringless puppets. Lyra shakily climbed to her hooves, only to find it impossible as her restraints had over extended her right hindleg and she had badly cracked a hoof kicking one of them away. She fell back down on her undamaged flank while coughing up thin smoke from the explosion that left her gums bleeding, but otherwise only lightly burned.
“There it is,” Stygian said while shaking his wings out, worried to find his magic was being sluggish to return. Deciding to bluff, he acted as if he was only mildly annoyed. “That didn’t come from your staff or horn if that mouth of yours is any sign. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re not a unicorn at all.”
Lyra glared at him while spitting some blood, and wanted to silence him on the spot, but she needed time to recover and letting him talk was just what she needed. “What else could I be?” She said while flipping her mane off her horn. “A pegasus?”
“I’d say you’re a terracorn,” Stygian declared, much to the mixed reaction of the crowd. “A child of earth and magic. But they’re always stillborne or the mother dies long before birth.” He tilted his head in amusement at Lyra’s increasingly murderous look. “Something about possessing gravity magic always harming mother and child. What I don't understand is why your soul doesn’t look quite like a pony’s.”
“And you’re not going to!” Lyra shouted as she summoned a new singularity, but this time it was directly in front of the Dark Father.
Completely taken by surprise, and unable to empower his wings, Stygian could only watch as he was pulled straight towards Lyra and her staff.
Summoning the last of her strength, Lyra swung at the oncoming necromancer and cleaved his body apart from nose to tail. The two pieces flew a few feet behind her before skidding to a stop against some bones.
Unable to walk, Lyra pulled the pieces of him into the air before he could even begin pulling himself back together and tried to repeat her trick but her strength was gone and she only managed to push his body off to the side of her rather than cutting him into fours.
Collapsing to the ground, Lyra was breathing ragged shallow breaths as her broken rib caught up to her. The crowd felt silent, unsure if Syigian was going to get back up or not. Lyra’s staff clattered to the dirt, plinking off a rib cage as she watched one half of the necromancer liquify and slide over to the other half and began to reform. Yet the process proved to be slow. A whole minute passed before the Dark Father’s head and neck were intact once again.
Lyra clenched her teeth as she tried to breathe, but every breath was so painful she could do little more than gasp for air. Through it all, she kept watching her opponent slow down and stop just short of his withers stitching back together.
For a long moment, Lyra’s fatigued and oxygen starved brain thought he might be toying with her and some new minions would appear to kill her at last. Instead, the necromancer's body began to steam and disintegrate just barely fast enough to be seen.
A coughing, dry laugh escaped the stallion. “Bravo, child. Though you cheated, you actually killed me.”
“You don’t sound very dead,” she countered, dearly hoping he wasn’t lying.
More tired, hollow laughter crawled out of him. “A pony bleeding out can see they’re just as dead as I do now. If not an Inquisitor, then dying to an impossible mare is good enough for me. I should almost thank you for cheating, as it grants me more honor by nearly killing you.”
Now that neither of them were fighting for so long, the crowds were approaching, Fluttershy and Rarity being the fastest among them. Seeing this, Lyra used her forelegs to drag herself over a bit towards the fallen necromancer to whisper. “I’ll make it up to you if you can keep a dying secret,” Lyra half-whispered as she sagged heavily on her forelegs. “I was born on a different world with legs that never worked. Here, they do.”
“Ahhh,” Stygian sighed, a serene smile on his increasingly pockmarked lips. “The Inquisitor knows, doesn’t she?”
“She does.”
Rarity telekinetically tossed bones aside before coming to a stop at Lyra’s side while Fluttershy was there soon after. “Lyra, dear, you did marvelously. Take it easy, we’ll get you patched up.”
All but collapsing into Rarity’s magical embrace, as the unicorn’s hold made sure not to stress any cuts or other wounds as she was taken into the air, Lyra grinned, then hissed in pain at the effort. “That'd be great, your honor.”
By now, Turnabout and Blind Speaker had arrived along with a dozen or so militia. They only gave Lyra mild interest, save for a few who offered congratulations on the fight. Most were focused on the dying necromancer who now had whole patches of skin and muscle missing. The half of him that had not reformed yet got the worse of it and everything behind his wings was little more than ash.
He eyed them all in an expected look. “Well. Go on then. Finish me off for your fallen comrades. I’d do the same.”
Several soldiers volunteered to stomp him, only for Turnabout to stop them with a raised hoof. “You don’t look to be in any pain for somepony falling apart.”
Grinning caused his lip to split in half. “I haven’t felt pain in a long, long time. But I can cry out if it makes you feel better.”
Turnabout searched her gathered troops and eyed her more ruthless one in particular. “We are not savages.” Those she glared at kept their peace, withering under her gaze. “Speaker, we offer last rites to all, even in times of war do we not? Today should be no different.”
A proud look fell over the old thestral. “Aye. I’ll admit I argued against such gestures in the past, but I have long since come to respect it.” He stepped up to the necromancer who was utterly baffled now. Those soldiers who had been quietly angried by Turnabout’s offer were inwardly shamed by Blind Speaker readily agreeing to it. “Would you like to be judged by Luna instead? Though you caused us great harm, she who protects will not overlook those you yourself protected within the Tain. I dare say in her scales, you will not be found wanting.”
Had he been capable of it, Stygian would have wept, but his flesh was peeling away around his eyes. “Your offer is generous.” Realization struck him as those words left his cracked lips. “But no. I will go where I belong. I always wished I had never fled the windigos through that thrice damned portal.” He stared up at the clouds of his home realm, now wishing he had thought to ask for a day to see a world bask in daylight with his own eyes. “Now, now I wish I had been blessed by Hearthswarming as you all are.”
Rarity was left curious by the odd admission and started paying closer attention and stood up to join the crowd. She absently dragged Lyra in the air to bring her alongside, leaving a mildly exasperated medic druid to join in. “Hearthswarming was important and brought us the tenets of harmony, but we are blessed by the Sisters.”
By now, Stygian's body below the neck was gone and his life was becoming quieter by the second. He looked each pony in the eye for as long as his vision would last. “You forget child, I have seen your history through the eyes of those the Mirage has claimed. The blessing of Hearthswarming is what guided them to your ancestors. Even now it shines forth. All of you have every reason to hate each other, and yet here you claim the only thing keeping you from fighting is a treaty.”
The crowd was awashed with thoughtful confusion. Rarity looked at Blind Speaker and couldn’t decide if Stygian was right or not. Most of the Lunarians looked at Rarity with much the same thought. The majority still decided they’d kill her given the chance, but only a few realized they had to actually think about it. One such doubter from the crowd chimed in. “What of it? The Three Tribes didn’t fight as often as we do with Equestria.”
Trying to look at the speaker, but failing to turn his head enough, Stygian croaked out, “oh but they did. You’ve sanitized your history so it’s easier to teach innocent minds. You do not know true hate. Murdering a pony of a different tribe carried no penalty. Theft was lauded, and any insult was returned a hundredfold. Only starvation, the griffin threat, and the raising of the sun kept the nations in balance. It all fell apart when the windigos shattered the grand illusion, showing Unicornia had no control over the sun at all but made it look like they did over the whole continent. Your wars and lies about each other are but gentle remarks compared to then. Nay, Hearthswarming saved you all.” Stygian's body was on the verge of collapse and he saved his last sight for the clouds. “Those who still serve, I release you.”
He stilled. His body collapsed in on itself and he was left as little more than ash.
With little else she could do, Rarity picked up the pile of ash in her magic and carried them to the village while everyone else trailed behind. There, behind the fence and within the Protectors’ influence, Fluttershy dug a small divot in the soil to bury it.
Blind Speaker spoke to those gathered, “though he was our enemy for a time, and rejected the Sisters, let us not forget who he saved.” He pointed at Rarity who in turn held the Tain in her hoof. “Inquisitor, I think our brethren have waited in that thing long enough.”
“Agreed.” She levitated Lyra towards Fluttershy. “Can you take her and see her mended?”
“I want to watch though,” Lyra insisted earnestly and quickly before the stabbing pain of her rib could silence her. Fighting through the pain to take a deep enough breath to speak, “I fought him, I want to see this, your honor.”
Fluttershy stepped up and used her injured wing to brace Lyra so her weight was off her chest and hindlegs. “I can do both, Inquisitor.”
“Good… good.” Though Rarity remembered Blind Speaker was willing to speak of their agreement about Luna’s journal in front of Turnabout, Stygian’s last words stuck with her. “Speaker, shall we begin?”
A short while later, all work on the engine’s path was suspended so all could attend the last rites at the Protectors. Yet that would take time, enough of it that Fluttershy felt safe she could return to the boats for a talk. What sailors were left to watch over the boats guided her to Rock Salt’s bed. The main barge had been the only one that could accommodate a sick bay, yet even that was only four beds, all of which were occupied along with three more on the ground with little more than a few blankets for comfort.
The nurse on duty guided Fluttershy to the stricken druid who was leaning against a wall. He was awake, much to Fluttershy’s relief, yet his bandaged head still left her feeling like she failed to protect him. The other awake patients eyed the Equestria-aligned druid with borderline suspicion, and made no attempt at hiding it.
Doing her best to ignore them, she reached Rock Salt and sat down next to him. “The doctor told me you should be fine. A major concussion, but you should heal.”
“So I’ve been told.” He sounded utterly defeated and couldn’t meet her gaze, instead only looking at the deck and the blankets he was resting on. “So it's done then? The Dark Father is dead?”
Deciding to omit a few things, Fluttershy nodded lightly. “He is. The Lunarians will be staying for a time to make sure the manor’s harmless before they leave. Mostly destroying all the runes and using their machines to expunge the magic.”
He scoffed and feebly kicked the wall. “I didn’t even get to see it happen. Didn’t see him destroy my village, and didn’t get to see him get what he deserved.”
“That is not a dishonor, Rock Salt.” Fluttershy watched him finally turn his head to argue, a flash of anger threatening to boil up. “One thing I’ve learned from the ponies living in civilized society is that many of their soldiers never actually fight, or rarely see their enemy. They grow the food, make weapons, scout and make maps, transport goods to the fight, but never actually spill blood.” She pointed at the nurse who was redressing the wounds of a sailor. “Ponies like her heal the injured soldiers. These are the heroes that don’t get songs made for them, but are no less important. By getting us here, what you did is no different.”
Not wanting to accept Fluttershy's argument, or even believe her, Rock Salt huffed and turned away. “If you’re trying to get me to come with you again. Just stop it before I have you banished from here as well. I'm not leaving.”
“And do what? Live all alone?” Fluttershy asked with a bit too much force than she intended.
“Somepony has to stay behind and make sure the Mirage heals!” he spat bitterly. “I have to find and bury my kin, and I refuse to join some blasphemous -” He stopped short, his face wrinkling in disgust. “Some of your ideas make sense, but it feels like a disease of the mind. I won't succumb to whatever has gripped you, nor will I leave the Mirage. Not now that it has a chance to heal.”
Fluttershy sighed and looked away in defeat. “The Mirage does not need us to heal. But it is your home. Should loneliness become too much for you, ask for me in the west.”
Scowling, but glad she wasn’t trying to force the issue, Rock Salt let his face ease back into a more somber mask as the weight of that very loneliness began to sink in. “I make no promises.”
“Nor do I ask for one.” Getting up, Fluttershy bowed her head. “May your strength never falter.”
He was reluctant at first, but Rock Salt mirrored the gesture before it could become awkward. “Green Mother be with you.”
Rarity and Blind Speaker had sequestered themselves in a house as the crowd organized itself. An aide had brought Blind Speaker’s satchel off the boat and he was currently fishing around in it. Rarity had been in quiet prayer through the extended wait, calming herself, cleansing her thoughts, and begging forgiveness for the joint act she was going to commit. The Tain rested on a patch of cloth to protect it from dirt.
So it was that she was mildly irritated when he cleared his throat rather loudly. She cracked her eyes open to see him opening a scroll case and sliding its contents out and then presented it to her. “Here. It’s a last rite prayer I wrote a few years back. It’s short, but should be a decent compromise between us.”
Irritation draining away to be replaced with strange curiosity, Rarity accepted the scroll and read it. The prayer was indeed short, but painted both Sisters in a reverent light. She scrutinized it carefully for any double meanings or irreverence, but it proved to be a just compromise. You write very well for a blind pony. “Yes, this is acceptable for what it is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you secretly venerate both Sisters.” She leered at him, expecting a rebuke.
Instead he was silent for a spell as he fumbled for another item in his satchel. “We were the ones who drove the Sisters apart. It is a disservice to their memory to compound that error.”
Compounding the error, Rarity mused. Whatever intent Blind Speaker had for his reply was lost on Rarity as the voice of her instructor, Radiant Dawn echoed in her mind. We are not done with Twilight Sparkle. I promise you that, young one. But you must be careful not to compound your error in trying to correct it.
A plan started forming in Rarity’s mind. One that might just have a chance of working. She rolled the prayer scroll back open to commit it to memory.
“There it is.” Blind Speaker removed a simple navy blue dyed leather journal. A single crescent moon decorated the cover. “The journal as promised.”
Putting the scroll down, Rarity claimed the offered book and opened it to a random page. The left side was blank, presumably for the Braille script to come, while the right held a familiar cypher that baffled many in the Solar Church. Rarity had never spent much time on cryptography, but Lock Stock had shared some of the more visually interesting examples. It looked similar enough to some of Celestia’s own wartime journals, but she would need Lock Stock to verify it.
“And here's the translation key,” Speaker explained as he presented a small book in simplistic bindings.
"A whole book is the key?" Rarity questioned worriedly as she flipped it open. Even her untrained eyes could see the translation went first from the code to old Equish to the modern vernacular, only to get more confusing the longer she read it. “And so there is.” She used her magical senses to sniff out any magical traps but both books felt as mundane as one should. “I presume it will take your militia more time to pack up and leave than it will for my companion to verify this is legitimate. If it is, then you see no more of me after today… well,” she added with a coy roll of a hoof. “Provided we don’t go to war.”
Grabbing the prayer scroll and its case, Blind Speaker stowed it away with resignation. “Alas, I will be far from the front lines were that to happen. Too frail for generals to let me administer the common soldiery they say.”
Feeling like an opportunity was about to slip her grasp, Rarity sighed and stored the journal away in her duster. “Before we part ways, Blind Speaker, a thought occurred to me. You said you had a son to continue your work, but how invested in the Sisters’ restoration is he really?” She tilted her head ever so slightly.
The question lingered and the thestral halted his packing. “He is a devout child of She who Protects, just as much as you are of Celestia.” His voice was an even keel, but his behavioral control was slipping in Rarity’s eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure he is, but come now, Speaker, there are a great many ponies who would see the Sisters remain in the heavens. Not to mention that coming from a father such as you, I’d imagine he grew up in a world where Celestia and her children were so abhorrent that her absence is preferable to Luna’s return.”
Taking a controlled deep breath, Blind Speaker bent down to more easily slide the heavy satchel back on. “We have all made mistakes, Inquisitor. I would think I have convinced you that I have accepted my own by now.”
“Dearie me, I am sounding rather petty aren’t I?” Rarity sighed and magically helped the old stallion out with positioning his satchel. “Deriding you is not my intent. Only that I propose you enlist somepony with more stake in the Sisters’ return than I’d imagine anypony else you may know, myself included.”
“Really?” He hummed a moment, stepping up to play her game. “Then by all means, enlighten me.”
Got him, now to set the trap. “I know of a runaway who fled to Lunaria a while ago by the name of Twilight Sparkle. I believe she would be uniquely qualified to carry your torch.”
He was silent at first as he searched his memory at the hauntingly familiar name. “Twilight Sparkle… yes, I’ve heard of her. She’s the highborne Equestrian that managed to convince the Emperor to grant her a noble title.”
That fact was not news to Rarity, but it still pained her to hear it all the same. “That’s the one. I'm sure she now gives Luna her proper respect, but she is still a child of Celestia’s Light. Who better than Celestia to pardon her for the crimes with which she is guilty of in Equestrian law, and equally, who better than Luna to welcome her as a proper Lunarian, blessed by She who Protects?”
Thinking it over, Blind Speaker tilted his nose up a bit. “I'm going to take a wild stab and suggest you’re hoping to run into her someday, should this Twilight Sparkle take up the torch, as you say.”
Now it was Rarity’s turn to unbalance Speaker with blatant honesty. “And drag her home in chains, naturally. Still, - fortune favors the bold, and,” Rarity added with a groaning chuckle, “she is a bold one.”
Mulling it over, Blind Speaker chewed on his tongue a bit, staring in her direction with his ears twitching to catch every sound. “Now why bring her up at all I wonder?”
The question was unwelcome but expected. Rarity ran a hoof through her hair as she magically curled them. “She is a traitor,” she began as if it was obvious. “Arresting ponies like her is part of the job after all, but should your business see actual results, Twilight would be useful to you.”
“True… true.” Blind Speaker leaned in as if he could hear Rarity’s heart beating faster. “But she came to Lunaria years ago. Had her arrival been more recent, I could see you calling her out. But no…” He smirked when Rarity betrayed herself with a faint growl that not even she knew she did. “This is personal, isn’t it? Dare I say, you are the reason she swore loyalty to the Throne, aren’t you?” he ended with smug satisfaction at sniffing out the truth.
Rarity let off a lady-like huff and turned away from him. “You see rather well for a blind pony. Yes, I would like satisfaction, but what I said of her holds true in any respect.”
“A word of advice to you then, from an old soul like myself. Appreciate your traitors. Because traitors are the best teachers.”
Rarity forwent all semblance of aristocratic airs for a moment and loudly scoffed. “Surely you jest. A traitor has only one fate in store for them, just ask any of your countrymares and they’d echo me in that much at least.”
“You say that, all the while Equestria still clings to the notion that all Lunarians are traitors, rather than the independent country we are.” Shaking his head, Blind Speaker made for the door, but stopped short to angle his ears at her. “I’ll consider informing Twilight of my goals, and let her make her own decisions if you consider this: how much has she motivated you to improve your craft?”
Who does he think he is trying to educate me?! Some part of Rarity decided to listen, which made her all the more incensed by it. “You sir are a walking master class of provocation. It is a wonder you ever married long enough to have a son at all.”
“Oh you should have seen me in my youth. Come now, Inquisitor,” he said while leaving the house, “let us see to those lost souls.”
Now walking up to the front of the statue of Celestia and Luna, a much calmer Rarity and Blind Speaker jointly held the Tain aloft for all to see. A pedestal of two stacked crates with a sheet thrown over it had been prepared to which they set the Tain down.
Rarity prepared a separation spell all while moving the switches and push tabs Stygian had explained earlier. The spell proved unnecessary. As soon as the last switch was flipped, the Tain rattled and clanked. The device cracked open and metal squealed as gears seized and shattered. A dense white mist started to bubble out of it.
Rarity recognized it quickly enough. “So it worked. That’s the same mist that comes from broken soul stones. We must act quickly or they will be lost to both us and the Sisters.”
“Then let’s begin,” Blind Speaker stated. Both ponies looked up to the heavens. Rarity used a spell so she could look at the sun without being blinded, and Speaker was so versed in the practice he was able to meet the daylight moon’s gaze by memory alone.
“Through this holy anointing may the Holy Sisters in their wisdom and mercy help you with their boundless love. May the Sisters free you from disharmony, save you, and carry you to your final rest.”
The mist escaping the Tain writhed as the forms of sleeping ponies expanded out by the hundreds. The gathered crowd backpedaled and fell on top of each other as they balked at the spectacle of thousands of spirits coalescing, floating to the sky, back into the earth, or being drawn towards the ley lines of the world. A few were pulled into the moon.
There's just so many. I doubt just one rite was strong enough for them all. Rarity cleared her throat to get Speaker’s attention then began repeating the prayer. The old stallion was quick to understand and joined her.
“Through this holy anointing may the Holy Sisters in their wisdom and mercy help you with their boundless love. May the Sisters free you from disharmony, save you, and carry you to your final rest.”
The spirits seemed to flow without end, so the pair repeated the last rites again and again. Golden sunlight bathed Rarity while a silver glow washed over Blind Speaker.
The living surrounding them were utterly transfixed by the sight. Some wept at the sheer scale of the lives taken by the Mirage, yet not one among them dared to utter a word as the dead were given peace. What none of them noticed was an orb from the Protectors shifted into a trio of diamonds before sinking into Celestia.
When at last the flow of souls stopped and the Tain was left inert did Rarity finally go silent as well, save to take a swig from a water skin tucked into her duster. Her silence prompted Blind Speaker to go quiet as well.
Rarity looked the crowd over and spotted Turnabout near the center. She cantered over the Commander with a somber posture. “I could live for a thousand years and by Celestia’s mercy may I never see such a thing again.”
Turnabout was broken out of her stupor and loose down from the sky to the Inquisitor. “Aye. Luna only knows how much they suffered.”
Blind Speaker hobbled his old bones over to join them. “We should rejoice that they have been given peace at long last. Once we finish demolishing that horrid manor, we should go home and celebrate properly.”
A loud round of approval rang out from the gathered ponies.
“Speaking of going home,” Rarity started more formally. Our dealings are concluded, Commander Turnabout. I must say I am surprised at your company’s discipline, you and your militia are a credit to the Throne.”
“And you to the Crown,” Turnabout said in turn, more than willing to take an enemy’s praise. “I wish you luck going back, if only so your superiors don’t use your absence as an excuse to blame us for it.”
A round of grumbling approval came from those soldiers who were listening in. Most however were paying respects to the statue before leaving to finish their work. Rarity smirked with a glint in her eye. “That would be rather embarrassing now wouldn’t it? Before I go though, in regards to the Tain…”
The remains of the object was still sitting on the impromptu pedestal, thus far untouched. Both mares looked first to it, then each other with Turnabout speaking first. “I’d be able to retire if I brought that home, and I’m sure Equestria would love to have machines and magic work together.”
“Most probably wouldn’t,” Rarity began with a disgruntled huff. “But I know General Armor would all but demand it.” Not to mention it could repair our relationship a touch. “I suggest it be buried under the river. I’d prefer it be destroyed, but I doubt you happened to bring a furnace with you, let alone one capable of melting it.”
Frowning, Turnabout thought it over a bit. “... Agreed. There’d be an uproar back home if I let you take such a thing back, as readily as you would weather the same blowback.”
Nodding, Rarity looked out towards the boats and found Fluttershy was helping Lyra test weight on a back leg. “I’ll have Fluttershy use the trees to bury it deep in the river. I’ll even allow you to have a scout follow us for a day or so so you can rest easy that she is not having the woods bring it along with us under the water.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Despite how it might look to those around her, Turnabout presented a hoof to shake. “You have my thanks, Inquisitor. If it weren’t for you, Stygian would have killed a lot more of my boys and girls before we took him down.”
Almost gasping in surprise, Rarity remained composed and shook the offered hoof. “There’s no telling if anypony in Equestria would have taken Rock Salt as seriously as you did. Were it not for you, we’d have never known the truth.” She squared herself up to be as formal as possible. “I wish you luck in the future, Commander. Let us hope I never see you in battle.”
Though the tone was friendly enough, Neither mare had any real question who would perish should that ever happen. Even so, Turnabout took it in stride.
The two mares parted, and once the Tain was secured beneath the river, they went their separate ways hoping to never see each other again. Shortly after Rarity departed, the diamonds within the Protectors re-emerged and resumed their spherical shape before anyone had even noticed a change.
Nearly a month later, Rarity was standing on the balcony of a Canterlot home overlooking the sheer drop to the forested valley floor below. A long, twenty foot banner of the Inquisition hung from the railing. The early hour had steamy fog on the rise, obscuring the new army training camps below. Between the balcony and Cloudsdale to the east sat over forty clouds expanding the air corps. The powers that be do not spend so many bits to expand the armies without the intent to use them.
“I must say, child,” came the ragged voice of the Grand Inquisitor Unyielding Hierophant from inside the office. “You have a knack for trouble.”
The elderly stallion’s present was a huge surprise to Rarity and upon turning around to see the wrinkled, faded orange unicorn’s presence, along with Radiant Dawn walking in beside him, the mare hastily prostrated herself in respect. “ Your Honor, I - I…” Not knowing how to speak to such a pony, Rarity waited to be prompted.
Rarity’s report was held aloft in the orange pony’s magic so that both he and Radiant Dawn could review it further. “Rise, child, I would speak with you.” Since he sounded as even keeled now as he did in all of his appearances Rarity had witnessed, Unyielding Hierophant was used to being in charge; his every whim treated as an order. So he chose to be stoic to avoid most unwanted interpretations. So as Rarity stood back up, she looked to her mentor for clues, and even he remained emotionally passive. Not that she could blame him in the Grand Inquisitor’s presence. Stay calm, Rarity. So long as you can articulate your reasons, they should find no fault.
To his side, Hierophant held a tall cup of tea and sipped on it before looking away from the report to the young mare. “Were this report to come from anypony but one of our own, I’d send them off to the Golden Spoon Theater.” he shook the sixty page report, threatening to jumble the pages.
“After the censors had a few passes of course,” Radiant Dawn added cheekily.
“That goes without saying,” Hierophant chided without real malice, only to remember Rarity was still fairly young. “To most I suppose.” Clearing his throat, Hierophant briefly closed the report and addressed Rarity without distraction. “Your invocation of Broken Arrows was agreeable. Personally I would have scouted the fools for much longer.”
Even though he agreed with her thus far, Rarity couldn’t help but to take the caveat he mentioned far too heavily. That was something Radiant Dawn knew of her all too well. “Sir, remember how we’re trying this new thing of ignoring perfect hindsight and taking a pony’s experience into account?”
Hierophant was not so old as to miss Radiant was doing this for Rarity’s benefit, and decided to let the stallion win that point with an acquiescent sigh. “Yes, yes, I remember.”
Still not sure if she was free to speak, Rarity only nodded in gratitude.
“This statue of the Sisters however is strange is it not?” Hierophant pressed on. “Your report claims the Crookbacks were heavily isolationist to the point of not even knowing who the Sisters were, along with the impossibility of this Dark Father having somehow crafted it. So it begs the question, where did it come from, and how can you be so sure the Lunarians didn’t make off with it after you left?”
His stern tone and the lack of Radiant Dawn’s commentary left Rarity sweating hard. ‘Well - your honor,” she resisted the urge to lick her dry lips. “Two reasons. First, we had an agreement the Sisters would be left behind as it’s cleansing aura would further cut down on what’s left of the dark magic still lingering in the Mirage, and also that if it were removed, it would be interpreted as a direct insult upon Celestia, and thus an act of war. Even with the Dark Father and his prison gone, I doubt Turnabout will send a messenger for a retrieval team until after she leaves the swamp properly.”
“Yes… This Turnabout lass,” Hierophant opened the report back up and flipped to a certain page. “You’re lucky she was a historian. I doubt any other commander would have even been aware of the treaty in the first place.”
“Or abide by it,” Radiant Dawn added with a bit of a reprimand in his tone. “You rely on these treaties a bit too much, I say.”
Is he really upset about that, or is he saying it gentler than Hierophant would? As if to confirm her fears, the Grand Inquisitor had paused his musings to think about Radiant’s appraisal. Rarity had to act quickly before he too could come down on her. “As you have taught, Instructor, diplomacy is always used before violence. But personally, I see the use of treaties as an appropriate tool. Since they are rules the heathens have agreed to, breaking them is often more trouble than it is worth, as it gives me the moral right to impose my requirements.”
Hierophant’s face only hardened at the answer, sinking Rarity’s confidence. “You miss his point, child. You should have proposed the accord on equal ground, not standing on a ship, surrounded by an engine’s effects.”
“Indeed,” Radiant added with a note of disappointment. “Had Turnabout been as reckless as the marines in Manehattan were, either you or one of your retinue might have paid the price.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rarity nodded, keeping herself from shaking. “I will keep that in mind for the future, Instructor.”
“See that you do.” Unyielding Hierophant flipped some more pages. “Now, the manor itself being destroyed was correct, as well as the Dark Father’s ultimate destruction. I must admit agreeing to the duel was fortuitous. Fools though they are, the Lunarians were still needed to get the warengine into position.” He flipped through several more pages. “I’m disappointed that Lyra had to reveal her abilities to the enemy though. I put a lot of effort into that girl to make sure she would be a wild card come the next war.” He scowled at Rarity, who wilted her ears at his attention. “No pony alive outside of the palace has seen let alone fought a terracorn. You should have argued more to duel him personally.”
“Let alone see one alive at all,” Radiant Dawn put in with less irritation. “Still, your honor, while Rarity is a good speaker, there is only so much an artist can do with substandard paints.”
Catching the lifeline as quick as a flash, Rarity pressed on. “All too true, your honor, Turnabout would have never accepted it,” Rarity argued carefully. “She barely accepted Lyra as it is.”
Unyielding Hierophant glared at Radiant Dawn, and put the report aside for a moment. “You protect this girl too much, you know that?”
Inclining his head into a facimacy of a bow, Radiant Dawn replied, “and you’ve caused far too many to develop anxiety neurosis by your lack of a filter.”
Huffing irritably, Hierophant popped a crick in his neck. “Celestia give me strength. Were you not my successor’s son…” He grumbled audibly. “There is one point of contention though, and that is the Tain.”
“It is well hidden,” Rarity offered, hoping to keep any rebuke at bay. “Fluttershy assured me it would take years of combing the river to ever find so much as a piece of it.”
“I am not so concerned about that,” Hierophant stated flatly. “I do hope however that your retainer can locate it again should you return.”
The idea of returning to that dreadful swamp sent a shiver down Rarity’s spine. “Y-yes, she said it would be trivial to do so, but time consuming since she had it moved into a dozen places.”
Radiant Dawn nodded at the report, prompting Hierophant to give it over. “I’m more worried about the implications of its existence at all.” He flipped through the pages to get to Rarity’s detailed description of the device. “A machine that works with magic. If we were to create such a thing, Equestria could catch up to Lunaria without putting our magic at risk.”
“Pah!” Hierophant snatched the report back. “You’ve been buying into General Shining Armor’s fear mongering too much. I will grant that the Lunarian industry is improved a degree by their machines, but they are still outmatched. However, if they were able to add magic to their machines with that same fervor, then we’d be in left in the wind without a feather.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Radiant Dawn replied grimly. “What's worse is that the Lunarians now know it is possible for magic and machines to work together. I say we attack soon. If Lunaria is at war, they might overlook one militia commander’s discovery of such a thing.”
“Might even think it's a fool’s errand given the esoteric nature of the Dark Father,” Hierophant added. He started pacing now as he started thinking long term. “Yes… Turnabout might be a commander, but only of a militia company. Her success over the Dark Father might be overlooked.
Realizing she was no longer under scrutiny, Rarity debated on whether or not she should stay quiet and let them debate, or put herself back in the spotlight. Yet with Rarity, was there any real hope for modesty? “Pardon me for saying,” she started as tactfully as possible. “But Blind Speaker is no fool. If Turnabout can’t get ponies with influence to listen, he can. I gave him a reasonable distraction, but it won’t last too long.”
“Yes… about him.” Hierophant darkened bitterly at his name. “Yet another reason you shouldn’t have invoked the treaty so readily. Killing him would have expunged that blighter. I trust you have gone through penance for having to cavort with such filth.”
“Yes, your honor. The sisters at the Golden Cathedral were of great help.” Outwardly, Rarity was the very picture of a stoically burdened mare, but her conscience was not at rest. Is he not going to say anything about the last rites or is he leaving it unsaid?
“Yes, they’ve always been a source of purity in troubling times,” Radiant Dawn said with reverence.
“Quite so.” Hierophant stepped over the balcony to overlook the various training camps. “What I am pleasantly surprised by is how you convinced them to let you alone give last rites to the Tain’s souls.”
Rarity froze in shock. That's not what I wrote. She looked at Radiant Dawn in bewilderment, as he was the one she had originally reported to. The stallion gave her an expectant look, and when Hierophant turned away from the vista below them did Rarity collect her wits, if only barely. “Yes, well, naturally they needed to be saved by Celestia’s light.”
Radiant Dawn chuckled a bit. “Well said. Still, you were fortunate that Blind Speaker was so frail that a bad fall kept him from trying to argue against it.”
Why would he do that? If my actions were so bad that he felt the need to censor them, he should be open about it with the Grand Inquisitor. Rarity felt trapped in an instant, and she couldn’t drag herself to even claim her superiors misread something.
“It was the Discord’s luck for him, no question,” Hierophant added with a resounding tone. The chiming of bells marked the turning of the hour, making Hierophant frown in exasperation. “The day certainly does fly by. My apologies, but I must be off. Sunset Shimmer’s been rebuffing General Armor’s call for starting the war. Thanks to you, Inquisition Belle, you gift wrapped me the perfect reason to end this pointless delay.”
The implications of Hierophant’s words muted whatever desire to speak of the truth still remained. I’m - he’s going to start a war because of me?! It did not matter to her that everyone around her wanted the war, but the proverbial straw on the camel’s back felt profoundly heavy upon her as well.
It was not until after Hierophant left the office entirely that Radiant Dawn spoke up. “Miss Belle,” he said, snapping her attention to him. “While I can…” He tensed a bit to pick his words carefully. “Sympathize with you being surrounded by magic disrupting machines, participating in a joint last rites with a bearer of the eclipse is a bridge too far for somepony like the Grand Inquisitor. I dare say if I did not know you and your sister personally, I’d have thrown you to the timber wolves myself.” Radiant became animated in his rebuke, causing Rarity to wilt under his growing anger. “You are far far too junior to be skirting the edges of heresy!”
“I - I did what I could, sir, but you yourself said we must not forget the Inquisition’s original purpose of unifying ponykind. Wouldn’t a joint ritual be a good step towards that?”
Radiant Dawn did not appear very moved by her argument, as if he had been expecting it. “Or would be…” He shook his head and walked towards the balcony’s edge. “If others thought as we do.” Nervously working his jaw, Radiant jerked his head so Rarity would join him on the railing. The mare’s nerves were rattled badly, but she obeyed. “Miss Belle, do you know that you would have been left in the orphanage were it not for me?”
“Y-yes. A lot of inquisitors come from orphanages. I still remember you asking me if I would join you or not.” Rarity’s earlier panic subsided a good bit, but not entirely with this tangent.
Giving a heavy sigh, Radiant looked up at the wild clouds above drifting lazily in the wind. “You remember the condition you gave me?”
Still unsure where the conversation was going, Rarity was left to play along. “Of course. If I was to go, my sister had to join me.”
“Come now, there were two.”
Rarity played with the color matched embroidery in her duster, the same enchanted thread that had shielded her from the Mirage’s illusions. “That you got me enough fabric and thread to sew the other orphans some new clothes.” A heavy note of childish embarrassment came through.
Radiant Dawn couldn’t help but to chuckle at her discomfort. “There were a hundred and thirty seven war orphans in Gentle Heart’s Orphanage at the time. Thirteen adoptive parents and two inquisitors came to you and not once did you back down. You refused to just let some of them buy new clothes, you had to make them yourself at eight years old.”
“W-well, you know how it can be. Ponies would buy on the cheap for somepony else’s child. I had to make sure the clothes were made to survive generations of hoof-me-downs.”
“No point in refuting the truth.” Radiant Dawn spotted a small migrating flock of birds and sang out some calls so they’d come over. The birds continued on, much to his disappointment. “Fact is, with so many other fine children, prospective parents overlooked you. My colleagues thought you would prove too bratty, with your insistence. But as you know, I accepted your conditions.”
The noise of telekinesis started up and a newspaper floated over in his magic. It was opened to reveal Cadence having an event at Gentle Heart’s Orphanage to raise expansion funds for the coming years. One older child there was wearing a familiar sweater complete with a poof-ball hat. “You toiled for four years as you trained in the academy, and to this day they still wear your creations.”
Rarity had to double check the date, and when it revealed itself to be yesterday’s paper the picture brought a tear to her eyes. “They still have some of them?” The sweater had some patches, one on the right foreleg and a tear along the withers, but it was still largely intact. She covered her mouth trying to hide a tearful, happy smile.
Radiant Dawn let her keep the paper, but his tone became serious. “You live up to your name, Rarity. Honestly, after seeing you work so hard making those winter clothes all while keeping your studies up, I had half a mind to forget the pupil business and adopt you and your sister and let you fulfill your passion, but alas, by then vows had already been made.”
Blushing feverishly, Rarity turned away out of embarrassment. “I still get to indulge. I don’t regret any of it,” she stated with firm iron. “What greater honor can there be than to be the hoof of Celestia and Her Holiness Mi Amore Cadenza?”
For a brief moment, Radiant Dawn allowed a proud, fatherly smile to grace his face. “Ponies like you keep the vestiges of Harmony alive in our world, which is why you must be more careful.” The warning did much to banish Rarity’s resurgent good mood as she looked up to him. “The line between heresy and a new treaty is a thin one built on the respect from the crown and the church. Both of which you are lacking in. That will build with time and experience, but if you go putting such scandalous activities in your report again I might not be there to step in.”
“I’ll be more careful, instructor. But what if Turnabout, Blind Speaker or their underlings talk about the truth?”
“It’s not like they can prove how the Last Rites were performed one way or another. Any talk of the matter will be labeled as lies to bring down an inquisitor. Wouldn’t be the first time Lunaria tried to end an Inquisitor’s tenure that way.”
It still feels wrong, but if he thinks this is for the best… Ultimately she felt service was more important than this particular truth so she resolved to remain quiet about it. “As you say, Instructor.”
“Glad to hear it, and for what it’s worth…” He paused for a spell. A hoof scratched his chin as he brooded long enough to leave Rarity grow worried. “I approve of your actions in regards to the rites. Too many both in and outside the Inquisition have forgotten that it was Celestia who not only wanted all ponykind to be unified, but to rule side by side with Luna. Celestia clearly supported your actions by granting you her blessing.”
Not only did Rarity let go of the breath she was holding, renewed pride in keeping both his and Celestia’s approval made her instinctively a bit. “I admit I was concerned I was overstepping myself. It was certainly reassuring when Celestia acted through me during the last rites.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” He placed a hoof on her and swept a foreleg out towards the cloudless sky and the burning sun beyond it. “Celestia loves all her children, and we who speak for her, are bitter reminders to the heretics that Luna led them all astray.”
Pride flooded up into a small tear in Rarity’s eye and she dearly wished to nuzzle him. But that was not his role, nor was it proper. “Thank you, sir.” Sue wanted to say more, but she couldn’t find any words and eventually Radiant moved on with a more controlled tone.
“That being said, Rarity, your wording in the report could have been absolute perfection, and Unyielding Hierophant would have still branded you a heretic and might have gone so far as to excommunicate you.”
“H-he would go that far?” Rarity asked with crippling horror at the very idea of excommunication even being a possible response.
“And probably have you shot just to appease General Shining Armor,” Radiant warned sharply. “I can not stress enough that you must be careful.”
“I will,” Rarity nodded hastily to the point she nearly suffered whiplash. “I promise.”
Satisfied, Radiant Dawn took a cigar out of a wood case in his vest and kept it unlit in his mouth. Though she never said it, he knew the smoke bothered her so he would not light it until they parted ways. “Now, has Lock Stock finished decoding Luna’s journal yet?”
Putting the newspaper carefully into the folds of her duster, Rarity magically fanned herself to cool off her stress sweating. “He claimed he’ll be halfway done by the morrow. The cypher Blind Speaker gave us works, and the journal has thus far proven legitimate. Time tables and troop movements all line up with historical records. Unfortunately the cypher is so complicated that it’s taken this long already. I’m beginning to understand why it’s taken so long to crack the code at all.”
“Never tried my hoof at it myself. The Sisters were said to use special magic to encode their private writings as they made them. I wonder if that cypher could aid in translating some of Celestia's wartime writings. Come!” He said with sudden earnestness. “I’m eager to read what has already been decoded.”
“I’ll take us to Lock’s apartment straight away.” Though Rarity’s outward resolute enthusiasm was infectious, a kernel of trepidation lingered. If Luna’s writings turned Blind Speaker from a fire and brimstone preacher to what he is now, could Celestia and Luna’s do the same to us?
“By the by,” Radiant Dawn stopped by his desk to deposit some magic quills and some paper to write his own copy of the journal. “Since Lock Stock is your military attaché, I am reassigning you to internal security matters.”
It was not welcome news, but something Rarity had fully expected. Still, she masked her disappointment. “Yes, sir.”
“Once the journal is translated and if the cypher can decrypt some of Celestia’s own work we can move from there.”
Rarity fell restlessly silent as she waited for him to finish packing. She nervously tapped a hoof on the rug until a bubbling question could no longer be held in. “Sir, if I may ask. What would you have done instead?”
Radiant Dawn paused to think a bit, a stack of papers hovering in the air with his green glowing magic. His mouth was a pressed line for a bit until he replied slowly. “What would I have done..?” He set the papers back down and eventually sat on his chair. “That is a more difficult question to answer than what should have been done.” He eyed her with a humorless smile. “Were you to ask the Grand Inquisitor he’d give you an answer practically matching doctrine. But to be fair to you, he was neither there, nor is he a young mare.”
The flat delivery of his half-joke got Rarity to laugh a bit, loosening her nerves a bit. “Dearie me he’d be an ugly one if he was.”
Though he didn’t laugh, Radiant’s grin became more genuinely warm. “The point is, dear, it is unfair to you to tell you what I would do because I am no longer so inexperienced, and even the best reports can never truly convey the totality of the circumstances. But if you insist…”
Clearing her throat, Rarity stood at attention. “That never stopped you before, please I’d like to improve.”
“Well, back then you were still a student. You are your own mare now, but very well.” Radiant leaned back and stared at the marble ceiling. The cigar rolling between his lips. “Your evocation of Broken Arrows was correct, though I would have scouted the Lunarians’ situation a bit longer. You handled Blind Speaker far better than I would have. I dare say he might have made more than a few of your peers lash out with more than words. I can’t rightly say how I would have acted. A testament to your patience.”
It warmed Rarity’s heart to hear it, and she hid a smile behind a hoof. “You’re too kind.”
Nodding, Radiant Dawn spotted a jug covered in condensation on the desk and poured himself some water. He poured a second glass for her and she took it with quiet gratitude. “But I suspect your real question is about the Tain.” He went into silent thought again as he nursed his drink. “Were I there… I think I would have not agreed to anything until after the Dark Father was dead. I would have told them that Broken Arrows was satisfied and thus no longer applied. I would have demanded the Tain would stay in my possession. Prior to this declaration I would have had Lock Stock remove Lyra from the area, and had Fluttershy threaten to use the wilds to sabotage their boats. Destroy the paddle wheels, clog openings, have roots burrow holes into the hull, whatever it took.”
Rarity became uncomfortable as she listened in, and didn’t dare to voice any discontent as he continued.
“I would have taken the Tain and killed anyone who got in my way as I took my leave before they could leverage those mobile disruptors against me. If the opportunity presented itself, I might have tried to simply kill them all had they insisted on keeping the Tain. Their disappearance would have been chalked up to the dangers of the Mirage for who knows how long.”
“But… Instructor, that’d be an act war,” Rarity said evenly, masking her ill at ease.
To that he only chuckled and shook his head. “Rarity, given the state of affairs between our two nations, the instant the nature of the Tain was revealed, we were at war.”
“I see.” Rarity took a deep breath to center herself and to ruminate on it all.
Yet she didn’t get far when Radiant Dawn noisily stood up and wrapped a saddlebag on. “If there is one thing I want you to take away from this, Rarity, it is this. Just because that is what I would have done, does not make it the correct way, or ultimately the right way those events should have transpired.”
Doing that would have forwent any opportunity to conduct the joint last rites, or is he saying he’d do this before the last rites? Utterly confused now, Rarity’s wrinkled brow and raised hoof heralded the question he waited for. “I don’t understand. How could my doing the joint last rites be right while your scenario is also correct?”
He rounded the desk and came up to Rarity. He guided her to the door with a hoof on her withers. “My dear, who knows what the consequences are for either of our choices. The consequences of your actions means that a new kind of war has begun on top of the one we are going into now. A war to find a way to merge magic and machine as the Dark Father had. With you leaving the Lunarians alive, they will share this knowledge with their brethren.
“On the other hoof, my actions would not only eliminate all Lunarian awareness of such a thing, but give Equestria an example of how a fusion might work.”
Now seeing her action as a potential failure even worse than losing Twilight, Rarity’s thoughts threatened to spiral out of control had Radiant Dawn not continued.
“That being said however,” he stated sharply upon realizing where Rarity’s mine was going. “I might have missed a survivor who would then report what happened and give the Lunarians an unignorable call to arms, and knowledge of the Tain anyway. They might be so enraged that the coming war would drag on long past either of our nations’ ability to wage it, and yet wage it we would for years after. Perhaps your approach will inspire more hospitable treatment to our prisoners, a shorter war, or maybe a more amicable treaty. Who knows, perhaps magical machines will be rightly seen as the flash point of this war and be banned from development. The point is, dear, so long as you can justify your actions, the Inquisition will support you.”
Rarity allowed him to walk her to the door as she was lost in thought. They stepped out into the hallway and he locked the door before she finally looked up at him. “I see what you mean. Thank you.” Her mind was put at ease. It was not the carnage of war that bothered her, because death in battle for Celestia, and a rising sense of Cadence as well, was the highest of honors, be they Inquisitor or a civilian who raised their spear. No, it was that her departure in good faith with Turnabout might be what saved her country should the worst come to pass.
“No need to thank me. I am merely doing my part to help you.”
Rarity fell into contemplative silence as they departed the office. The scenario he explained increasingly bothered her. At first, she felt compelled to let things lie and accept she simply could do any of that since the Lunarians had not betrayed the treaty. Was that really it though? Or was it that at some level, Rarity understood that the treaty had no longer been necessary to keep the peace?
They moved passed a sentry, with Radiant Dawn giving the fellow a respectful nod in greeting. Upon doing so, he noticed Rarity was too caught up in thought to have done the same. “Something ails you?"
Jumping a bit at her thoughts being disturbed, Rarity briefly considered playing it off. It'd be no use. I could never lie to him, even during his lessons.
“Instructor, I don’t want to cause offense, but - but I can’t see you doing those things. The choices you stated if you had been in my place. It doesn’t sound like you.”
Doing a poor job in suppressing his cheeky laughter in the public space, Radiant rolled his unlit cigar in his mouth, and gave her a proud wink. “You’re absolutely right. The pony I described was Unyielding Hierophant.”
Gasping, Rarity barely managed to recollect herself upon seeing another inquisitor walking by. The passerby gave a polite nod to them both before leaving. “Truly?”
“Oh yes. Our esteemed leader was in a roughly similar situation you found yourself in nearly eighty years ago. The Red Velvet War was our bloodiest and longest in over six hundred years. And now he stands above us all. Take what you will from that.”
She was left utterly baffled, and now that Rarity knew it had not been Radiant’s path, she felt worlds better. It did much to lower the Grand Inquisitor in her eyes though. She decided it would be best not to dwell on such musings and tried to bury it when realization sank in as they made their way to the stairs. “Wait a second, then you didn’t tell me what you would have done at all!”
Radiant was in quite a good mood indeed if his laughter was any indication. “Very perceptive of you, my dear.”
Grumbling, she pouted at him. “I wager you’ll just tell me a different tale entirely if I ask again.”
“That’s a fool’s bet if ever there was one,” he snarked at her as he pulled ahead down the stairs. His laughter echoing on the sun-lit marble walls.
Heaving an exasperated sigh, she chased after him; ultimately resigning herself to never getting a straight answer.
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A casus belli indeed. Although given what Twilight may or may not have been doing in the intervening years with internal combustion development, I dare say Equestria will be less than prepared for the upcoming war.
Now all we need is Rarity and Twilight meeting again, and Rarity telling Twilight about all of this.
Eeeee....
Happy birthday to me for my favorite author dropping a chapter on my birthday.
Thank you
Well, I suppose that concludes Rarity's side of the story for a while? Though quite an interesting side to it for sure. I wouldn't have expected a war to be started not by a battle but instead by both sides working together to defeat a deadlier foe -- Quite unfortunate indeed that the existence of something as horrible as the Tain means so much for both sides. Though, I will admit that I'm excited to get back to Twilight's side of the story, I just really love the way a Twilight without reasonably working magic is written here, she may be way too good at talking her way out of any bad situation for her own good.
On a different note I caught something in the previous chapter that I found odd...
As this statement comes from Rarity's thoughts, and she is an Equestrian, it stands to reason that she would probably think of Twilight's race as what the Equestrians call them... Which is to say the slightly more insulting title of Demicorn. Though, maybe hanging around the Lunarians that long influenced her thoughts more than she's willing to admit even to herself...
A tired one.
Was not expecting that!
Wait what?! Did I miss a time skip somewhere?! I thought our Twiggles had made her daring escape no more than, idk, 18-24 months ago? Is there something I missed that indicated that, or are we supposed to try and figure that out as the story progresses?
11191883
well, 24 months would make it years plural
11191452
hope you liked it.
11191896
I guess, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who usually reserves—and interprets—phrases like “years ago” (or, “haven’t [insert phrase with a verb] in years,” or other permutations) to mean at least several, and often many.
Now, I’m not your editor, but I’m of the opinion that having Blind Speaker instead say “but…a few years,” or perhaps “a couple,” would be clearer in denoting the passage of time.
11191896
Of course I like it... though it still pains me to see mane6 (mostly) against eachother.
Good chapter update, thanks for writing it.
A few typos sprinkled throughout this chapter, and I'll probably have to reread this arc to make sense of things. All I know is that a little part of me wants Celestia and Luna to come back and knock some heads together as countless wars and misery quote-unquote "in their names" make them quite cross.
11206526
Oh believe me, both nations misunderstand the root cause for the interaction between magic and machines. It’s part of the reason I chose the time period. Everyone knows that X machine made in a certain way causes Y disruption, but not the why of it. They make guesses of course, like Miasma Theory in medicine.
And yes those windmills did cause some disruption, but not enough to offset their usefulness to Equestrian lawmakers. No nation is above double standards after all, they just keep those windmills away from Canterlot.
Great chapter here, love all the characterizations, although Lyra rubs me the wrong way. Out of Rarity's group she seems to be the most close minded, although her early years are mostly a mystery as we don't know when or at what age she came to this Equestria or what her original home was like as it's possible they have near identical histories.
11328154
Given the way she uses her magic I think she's from the eqg mirror universe.
I was thinking the same thing. Stygian went down a lot easier then I thought he should have. I do really like Stygian a lot and would love to see more in this story.
I think him and Twilight would be a great team up. 
But I still enjoyed him in this story and that is all I see of him, I glad I got to see it.