Celestia Goes West

by DungeonMiner

Chapter 30

Caramel couldn’t focus on the game.

No matter how hard he tried to get into the role-playing, he could offer only a token line or two before his situation crashed back down on him. Luna especially kept trying to pull him into the game, but he just couldn’t bring himself to play.

After nearly an hour of his half-hearted attempt at playing, Sundance finally spoke up. “Caramel, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

Rolling stared him down for a second before she called for a break. “Why don’t we take a second to grab snacks and stuff. Caramel, can I talk with you in the back of the library?”

Caramel sighed before standing and trying to shake off the feeling that he’d just been called to the Principal’s office. Thankfully, Luna excused herself and left the room for a moment so he’d be spared that humiliation, at least.

“So something is obviously wrong,” she said. “The question is: Is the problem off the table or on the table?”

Caramel took a second to answer. “Off the table and fairly personal, thank you.” A part of him regretted the bite in his voice, but another part of his mind thought otherwise.

Rolling kept an eyebrow raised before she spoke again. “Alright, now that I’ve asked you as your Game Master, let me ask as your friend. What happened? Is Thistle riding you again?”

The softness in her tone as she switched modes cracked him a little, and with a sigh, he felt everything flow out of him. “No. In fact, Thistle won’t be riding me ever again. He fired me a few days ago.”

“What?” Rolling ask.

“He fired me by mail, nonetheless.”

Rolling blinked. “Is that even legal?”

“There’s no law against it,” he replied. “It’s a fringe case, but technically legal, and I can’t afford a lawyer to fight it.”

“You’ve got to try!” Rolling said.

“Why? So I can get the job that I hated, with a boss that legally needs me around? It’s only going to get worse.”

“You can get wages.”

Caramel shook his head. “The reason I was officially fired was that I failed to meet certain quotas at work and some other bunch of horseapples. They can argue that all day.”

“Can’t you get to the District Manager?”

“My district manager gave Thistle his job,” he said. “The cronyism goes all the way up. Look, I appreciate that you want to help, but I think I’m just stuck. I just need to go find another job, is all.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” he said, a little surprised by the defeat in his voice. “I’ll be fine. Just...just don’t let Luna know. She already threatened to step in for me, but the last thing I need is for ex-royalty to come to my rescue. I don’t need somepony else to solve my problems for me.”

“But she could—” Rolling began.

“Just...please Rolling. I want to stand on my own four hooves here. I don’t need someone coming to my rescue.”

“O-okay. I won’t tell Luna.”

Caramel nodded. “Alright. Thank you. I’m sorry about the game. I’ve been trying to leave the problem at the door, but it’s been difficult. I’m working on it.”

“It’s okay,” she replied. “Take your time. This is just a game.”

Caramel nodded and didn’t notice the strange air currents above him as an unseen, invisible figure moved in the air.

---☼---

Thistle finished counting the money in the till before he slipped them all into the safe. The store had been doing well now that Caramel was one, and good riddance to him anyway.

The firing by mail was a masterstroke, he thought to himself. Caramel might have thought that using the Princess as an excuse would save him, but the termination-by-post definitely got the message across. Thistle was the pony in charge, and nopony would argue with that, not even the Princess.

Everything he did was above board. His lawyer friend made it clear that, while firing by mail should only be reserved for the worst employees, it was legal. The reason for termination was a failure to perform to company standards, which was true simply because he “wasted” time by doing pointless tasks instead of dealing with customers. It’d be a bit of a fight, but his company could hire better lawyers than Caramel ever could, and since nothing illegal was done, he was safe.

Thistle felt his spine freeze.

As though locked in place like a giant tumbler, Thistle was frozen, staring forward as an icy hoof reached for his shoulder.

The world around him shook apart as the desk, the safe, the walls, and the doors fell away, plunging end-over-end into the abyss that appeared beyond. He couldn’t see it, but he knew all that was left were a handful of tiles that supported his spinning desk chair.

The hoof on his shoulder tightened a terrifying grip, and a feeling of ice replacing his blood began to flow through his veins as it reached for his heart.

Thistle couldn’t see it, but he knew that the hoof was armored in pale sapphire moonsteel, as was the snout that dropped to the ear on the opposite side. “Oh, yes. You really are the big pony in charge. How dare I stand up against you?”

The terror flooding his mind made his vision spin, and he felt the looming presence behind him grow to a terrifying height.

The hoof on his shoulder spun his paralyzed body around, and he found himself staring up at the skyscraper-sized form of Nightmare Moon herself. “How dare I rise against somepony as important as you?”

He was tiny. Miniscule. A gnat.

“But perhaps,” Nightmare Moon said with a smile. “Perhaps somepony as vital, as influential, as crucial, vital, and meaningful as you could make a good…” she licked her lips, revealing massive fangs that promised pain and suffering “...offering.”

Thistle, still paralyzed, felt the chair lean backward before Nightmare Moon opened a maw of far-too-many teeth that moved in a circle like a saw blade and snapped it shut at the space he occupied a second ago. He tumbled in the air, still stuck to the chair as he fell into the endless abyss, with the evil alicorn following shortly behind him, mouth open wide and smelling of death.

He wanted to scream, but he could not move. He tried to run, but he could only fall. He wanted to—

Thistle shot up awake, breathing heavily in sweat-soaked sheets. He groaned before he checked the clock at his bedside, which read 2:30 am.

He sighed before throwing off the sheet. This was the fourth time he woke up tonight, and this was starting to get ridiculous. He didn’t even know why he kept waking up. Thistle knew there was some kind of nightmare he was facing, but he couldn’t remember what it was every time he woke up.

He fluffed his pillow again and laid his head down on the bed. He shut his eyes again and tried to go to sleep.

He finally drifted back to sleep before he woke up, covered in sweat again thirty minutes later.

He stared at the clock for a long moment of despair before he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Thistle woke up an hour later, forced awake by another nightmare that he remembered nothing about. He groaned at the lost sleep before he picked up his pillow, which felt like it had been dunked into a pool for all the sweat it now held. He lay his head down on the piece of fabric before he tossed it aside as well.

He fell in and out of consciousness a few more times while laying on a nearly bare mattress for the rest of the night. By the time morning rolled around, he had maybe two hours of sleep from the whole night.

Thistle forced himself up and made his bed before he tied the tie around his neck and made his way downstairs. He opened his front door that morning and found himself staring into the toothy abyss. The teeth slammed down at the open door, grinding through the wood and wall as Thistle scrambled back into his living room.

Nightmare Moon laughed as she stared him down. “I used to keep the dreams of thousands of ponies a night! Dealing with you isn’t even going to slow me down!”

She opened her mouth wide again before she bit her way through the house. Thistle stared into the chainsaw depths of Nightmare Moon’s maw before he woke up.

His heart slammed in his chest as the dream passed through his mind and was already starting to slip past his consciousness, leaving nothing but a vague memory of not being able to get sleep and the awareness that he annoyed someone.

He checked the clock.

2:40 am.

Thistle sighed before he fluffed his sweat-soaked pillow and tried to go back to sleep.

---☼---

Caramel shook his head. He slapped down another newspaper with another useless wanted ad and fell onto his couch.

Silver Shoals was a lovely town, but as Caramel was quickly realizing, most ponies in town typically hired friends. His two options were fast-food restaurants or chain stores that all would shove him into working for the bare minimum as a part-timer to the point where he couldn’t afford his apartment anymore. His other options would hire ponies that were less qualified but lived in town their entire life and used to be buddies in school.

Caramel sighed. It’s not like he was a tourist or anything, but he grew up in Vanhoover before moving into town once he was an adult. All the friends he made in high school or college were back north, and he left that town for a reason.

Not that he could afford to move back at this rate. Vanhoover’s rent prices were infamous across Equestria these days, and if he couldn’t afford to live in Silver Shoals, then moving back to Vanhoover would have him homeless in a few days.

He rolled to his hooves before he looked down at the newspaper that now lay on the floor.

“Have a story to sell?” read a small ad on the back page. “Prices starting at a thousand bits.”

Caramel moved away and moved to his fridge, which was beginning to get thinner and thinner with each passing day.

The unicorn closed the door. He couldn’t afford to drown his sorrows in food.

He wandered back over to his living room before he glanced back at the newspaper on the floor. Caramel snorted before he moved to his bedroom and stared at his bookshelf. A small library of fantasy books stared back at him with covers that ranged from bright to dark.

He might get a couple of bits off of these, but it wouldn’t be enough to make a difference.

He shook his head. If he was honest, it would buy him maybe two meals, three if the pony at the pawnshop decided to be generous.

He stopped himself as he remembered that the local pawn shop actually closed down a month ago. Something about the owner being involved in a crime ring or something.

Excellent, he couldn’t even sell his possessions.

Getting back up, he wandered back into the living room, where the newspaper continued to stare up at him.

It...finding out where Celestia was probably wasn’t even worth it. At best, it would let him keep his apartment for a month or two before he’d have to do something else, and at that point, he’d have an angry Luna to deal with.

The thought turned over in his head. A simple “what if?” What if they offered more?

What, two thousand? Why then Caramel could afford the apartment for the rest of his life because Luna would hunt him down after she found out, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

He moved to the door, thinking about the walk he needed to clear his head.

There was no money they could offer to make this work. Besides, whatever prize any newspaper could offer would only get the unicorn enough cash to put a metaphorical bandaid on the problem. Caramel would still be out of a job, and he’d still have to pay as little as possible if he wanted to stay in his apartment for as long as possible.

His walk took him downtown, where the buildings grew taller in a weak imitation of Canterlot.

There was nothing they could offer him. Absolutely nothing.

He walked into the office of the Silver Shoal Sentinel.

There was no way they could offer him any amount of money to make this kind of thing worth it. No, they couldn’t.

He made his way up to the producer’s office, knowing full well they couldn’t possibly make selling a story on Celestia worth it. The only reason he was asking was to prove it to himself.

He stepped into the office.

“Hello, Mr. Swirl,” the producer, a mare in a prim business suit that looked like she could talk down a stampede, greeted him with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a hypothetical for you,” he said, knowing there was no way this would go anywhere.

“What’s your hypothetical, Mr. Swirl?” she asked, smiling with a warmth that didn’t reach her calculating eyes.

“Say I could get you a story about whatever Lady Celestia is doing in her manor house these days. What would you give me for a story like that, fifteen hundred bits? Two thousand?”

The mare’s eyes stared at him for a long, drawn-out second before she responded with a grin. “Oh no, Mr. Swirl. We’d offer far more than that, provided, of course, that this was a serious hypothetical case. Hypothetically, how do you plan on getting that story?”

“I’d... I’d rather not say,” he responded.

The mare’s eyes narrowed, but her smile never wavered. “As you so choose,” she responded before leaning back in her chair. “To give you a better idea of what you’re asking about, Mr. Swirl, I’m paying reporters to sit outside her manor one thousand bits a night. If you could get me an exclusive story about whatever’s going on in there, then I’d be willing to pay upwards of ten thousand if you’re legitimate.”

Caramel blinked.

The producer turned her smile up at him. “Hypothetically.”

She continued to go on about how it wasn’t smart if he wound up wasting her time, but Caramel didn’t hear that. All he could think about was the price tag this mare just casually threw out at him. Ten thousand bits? Upwards of ten thousand bits? He...oh, Celestia, he could start his own coffee shop for that much money. He’d be his own boss, sell his own coffee, not the over-priced dirt that he used to sell. He could even work with artisanal coffee with that kind of money and—

“What happened to not being worth it?”

Caramel brought his attention back to the mare, whose smile was starting to wilt now that he was officially taking up her time.

“I…” Caramel began as he stood. “I’ll keep in touch.”

“I’m sure we will,” the producer said dismissively.

Caramel walked back down the office building and exited back onto the street, where he wandered the town.

He’d be able to do so much with that kind of money.

But he couldn’t do that to Luna.

He could even hire some of the others in the group at his own place. Make it an actual cafe with Sundance as the cook!

Luna opened up her home for him.

Caramel could make a difference!

And Luna would never forgive him.

No amount of money would ever make betraying her like that worth it.

But he said he’d be in touch.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

Can somebody please give me some tips on how not to confuse Marble Venture's name with Marble Pie's?

[Haradion]

I've seen this moment coming for a while. Anne I've been dreading it. Hoping you wouldn't follow throw. Because it hurts to watch.

Anyone who has said money can't buy happiness has never needed to make rent.
And there is no ethical or moral difference between being threatened of dying of exposure of starvation and Having a literal gun to your head. Dear is dead. This is a serious dillemna.

His crime here is not betraying Luna. It's being too Proud to ask for help. Too proud to accept it. Worst come to worst he could couch surf at Lunas place if it came to it. That is what he can't accept. And that is where he crosses the line.

Because objectivly, telling a paper where Celestia is is not as morally repugnant as letting oneself die of exposure like a good capitalist. Even if it was a violation of trust. Homelessness is serious and being threatened with eviction in a state that allows people to die on the streets in no different to being threatened his violence. It's coercion by the system.

However, what he isn't willing to accept is that he is not in real danger. Because he has the choice of asking for help from Luna. He is not putting his physical wellbeing above Lunas Trust (which is perfectly understandable) he's putting his Pride above Lunas trust. His self image and self reliance. *That* is his flaw and failure here.

We are conditioned by society to see needing help as a flaw. As a failing. It's most insidious.

[djthomp]

Don't do it, Caramel, you'll regret the actions and you'll regret the nightmares.

[MoonlightRift]

:(