Trixie: Eclipse IV
“Matchstick.”
“Yes, Princess?”
“You need to tell the Bloodwynds and anyone you find,” Celestia said in a low, deliberate voice. “If they can kill off the plants and infiltrate below the ruins, they can simply come up the stairs.”
The thestral swallowed, nodded, and was off like a shot, sweeping smoothly up and flipping gracefully onto the bridge before the thunder of her hoofsteps could be heard as she charged into the ruins. Celestia looked at Cadence gravely. “I assume this is an effect of the Void?”
“I would have no way to know, Auntie,” Cadence siad. “The Empress apparently explained it to my family but Tetti didn’t pass along very many details before I returned to Ponyville. The only thing that seems relevant is that the Void poisons and disintegrates life on contact, but this damage looks more akin to acid, more like what Dark magic does to the energy and material of the Void.”
“Dark magic?”
“Tetti said that Empress Moon used the term ‘chaotic dark’ for it but Tetti just called it ‘dark’,” Cadence said.
Celestia hovered for several beats of her wings. “So it could be called Chaos magic as well.”
“I… guess? Auntie, I think that if Discord got out…”
“I don’t think he did.” Celestia looked further down the chasm floor to where the living vines were still twitching. “But the mere possibility that he has something to do with these hostile magical vines cutting off access to the Tree is… deeply concerning.”
She descended to just in front of the rough-hewn opening in the cliff under the bridge and brushed aside the dead remains of the vines before setting Trixie down gently. Just as Matchstick had described, the vines looked melted like hot water poured over ice, or a powerful acid over pretty much anything else. She fully expected one of the many smells of burning plants; six months as Big Mac’s marefriend had treated her to a wide variety since cleaning up plant debris was a natural part of working on a farm. But the smell of the melted plants was more akin to…
“...candied caramel apples?” she said, taking another sniff to make sure.
“Piping-hot orange meringue pie,” Anori reported.
“Key lime meringue,” Krysa said.
“Carrot cake,” Celestia frowned. “My favorite. Well, if there was any doubt about who’s responsible for these vines…”
Trixie decided it wouldn’t be the right moment to mention that Forheest Sadow had said something about the vines running under Ponyville and as far into Equestria as her senses extended. Then again, I don’t think the right moment for that is ever going to arrive.
“”But how could he have…?”
“It doesn't matter at the moment,” Celestia said with a toss of her mane. “Captain Armor, I appreciate that I’m your princess, that you are sworn to protect me if you possibly can, that you’re similar enough to Twilight that you seem like her brother by birth… but I need you behind me.” She looked over them. “All of you.”
“Your Highness…”
“I don’t want you in between me and someone with the raw power to casually burn away the magical constructs of a near-god,” Celestia said. “And I don’t wish to see my niece harmed.”
Without giving either Shining or Cadence a chance to protest, Celestia ducked into the opening and walked a few steps. “I see no one awaiting us in ambush,” she said. “Come along.”
Shining stepped in immediately, flanked by Cadence and then her pair of bodyguards. Trixie walked in after them and was instantly assaulted by the mingled scents of her favorite childhood treat, ozone, and something else she couldn’t quite identify, a pungent, cloying scent that made her think of a bog. She looked around herself as the followed the rest of them through the dim passage, lightning her horn to see where she was going better. The vines were still visible in the tunnel--but far less than they were outside. Where the ones before had looked melted, the ones inside looked like they’d been scoured down to the walls. Something else about the way the vines had been destroyed struck her as odd somehow, but she couldn’t think of why.
“Hey, Celestia?”
Celestia canted an ear backwards to Anori. “Yes, Anori, what is it?”
“Have you ever seen a cauterization blade before?”
“I wish I could say I hadn’t.” Celestia’s shiver of revulsion was visible even as far back as Trixie was standing. “That was… not a happy time for medical practice. Why do you ask?”
“Well, the vines outside look like someone doused them with acid,” he said. “Pretty quick and dirty, trying to get rid of a threat as fast as they could. The ones in here thought, they look like someone…”
“...cauterized them,” Trixie finished, the realization making its way out of her muzzle before she could stop herself.
Anori glanced back at her. “Yeah. This concentrated, the vines in here were probably a hay of a lot more dangerous but they’re disposed of pretty cold. Systematic, unhurried.”
“Two different people working together,” Celestia said.
“Or two different groups,” Krysa said.
“As if the atermors were not bad enough,” Celestia sighed. “I’m surprised they didn’t set guards behind them. It costs them nothing in return for early warning from a horde of completely disposable minions.”
“Arrogance,” Cadence said. “The few times that one has spoken to us, their self-assuredness was invincible even as we laid waste to their golems by the hundreds around them and even shredded their masked forms. Sadow and the Bloodwynds have both suggested that they tend to be remarkably impervious to reality when outmatched, even after being badly hurt by it.”
“Sorta makes sense,” Trixie said. “I mean, they can just sit back and pull the strings of puppets, and remain completely out of reach, knowing that even with people who know exactly what they are, how they do things, and how to hurt them, it takes special preparations like carrying special am…” She frowned. “Amoo…”
“Ammunition,” Shining Armor supplied.
Trixie nodded. “That.”
“So their arrogance could be well-founded.” Celestia considered that. “I suppose it’s academic. We don’t need to kill them, just remove them and keep them out, and the Tree cannot be damaged by fire.”
“Um…”
“How’d we find that out?” Celestia chuckled a little. “Controlled experimentation predates even Starswirl the Bearded by centuries; his contribution was to formalize it. Granted, the philosophy of empiricism wasn’t formalized by Clover until a generation after Luna was banished, but…”
The solar monarch stopped suddenly and went silent. It was quiet for several moments before Shining stepped quietly closer. “Prin…”
Celestia made a vicious gesture to quiet him and the captain of the guard went silent immediately and once again, there were several more moments before Trixie could hear the faint tones of conversation, indistinct sounds of rising and falling noise with the impression of a male voice and a female one to them. Being further down the tunnel, Celestia could apparently make out some of the words because her brow furrowed with mild confusion before she gestured with her head for them to continue on, with another very firm gesture for silence.
The rise and fall of the voices, with the cadence of a heated discussion, continued as they drew closer until the passage began to gradually widen and Celestia brought them to another halt, then gestured Trixie forward to stand at her side. Trixie moved forward and stopped, swiveling her ears towards the voices even as she saw Krysa taking up position on her left in her peripheral vision.
“...very nearly enclosed,” the female voice was saying as she focused her attention on listening.
“Which would be going much faster if you supplied the blood as you were tasked.”
“Vorka,” a familiar masculine voice growled.
“Their leader,” Cadence whispered. “Or at least the one that spoke to us.”
“It was your imbecile idea to commission him,” the female said, her voice heavy with contempt. “How could you have possibly not been aware of how he operates?”
“We did watch the fork-tongued little obsessive,” the male siad. “Closely, and with Void-sight. And his toy worked on the first batch.”
“Oh, you watched him,” the female said mockingly. “How very cunning. So how’d that work out, boy? Did you stop him from tainting your plague?”
The reply was indistinct but even from where they were, Trixie could faintly hear a ladylike snort.”Clearly, that is not the same, or I’d look as weak and foolish as you do.”
“I have done as I agreed, and I expect payment.”
As the female heaved an exasperated-sounding sigh, Celestia gestured with her head and they stepped quietly towards the sound of the disputing voices. “Yes, yes, I suppose that if given a task simple enough for even the atermors to do right, you perform acceptably. And Voce is a creature of his word, because as Miri proved, it’s the best survival strategy by far. But you have no agreement with me, so I have no obligations for your well-being.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“That there will be no repercussions for being only the second one of the Void to have her very own Canceros head as a prize and decoration,” the voice informed the leader, who appeared to be named ‘Canceros,’ coolly.
Much closer now, Trixie could hear the extremely refined Canterlot lilt to the female’s words and the looked at Celestia. Celestia’s brow furrowed again and she looked back towards Cadence and Shining. “That’s a Canterlot accent,” she said very softly. “How is that possible?”
“It is,” Shining agreed. “Whoever she is, she’s not an atermor. Perhaps she can assume disguises if she wishes?”
“I’d think so,” Cadence said. “I’m sure that in all the Void between various worlds, there’s at least one that can assume any shape or voice they wish, just as a changeling can.”
“You mean to say that that isn’t your prize?”
“That is the linchpin to all of this tiresome affair. She must be kept alive and healthy, and stable in spirit and intellect.”
“And after she’s no longer useful?”
“That all depends.” The female voice sounded like the speaker was leering at Canceros. “If you want Morgana Fata to play you like a fiddle--and I mean that in a very literal way--feel free to use her as a plaything. I myself would prefer to remain on speaking terms with the Weaver.”
“As if you are,” Canceros scoffed.
“Who do you think gave me permission to use her as a linchpin? Only two panels to go, by the by, and I can be quit of you.”
“You’re lying.” But Canceros’ voice sounded subdued even as he leveled the accusation.
“From time to time, but it would be unwise to lie about that.”
There was a long silence between the two voices, which Celestia decided to treat as an opportunity to walk carefully closer, a vibrant silver light beginning to become visible at the end of the tunnel.
“And how in all nine Hells and Heavens does a world-killer get on speaking terms with an insufferably moralistic Weaver?” Canceros asked at their party drew close enough to partly see into the room through the nearly blinding glow.
“The same way Miri can sit down to tea with archangels and speak without anyone smiting her: professionalism, self-control, manners, and respect.” The female chuckled with a touch of wryness. “And if you sincerely call me world-killer, my legend is clearly getting a little too large for its stockings. World-killers are my malformed and inferior kin.”
“Killing worlds is a feat of your inferiors?”
“That you even need to ask shows your limitations far more than any display of power could. The stronger one is, the less wasteful their murders. Why consume a dozen cities when a single one will sate you? Why kill a million, when just one will topple a world? Why leave a dozen bodies to cause fear, when a single finger and its signet ring will spread unthinking terror?”
“To show that you are strong, naturally.”
The female snorted. “How many bodies do you think Miri has left in her wake? How many shattered worlds? How many broken fools? Why do those that know of her, even when they enjoy her warm regard, regard her cautiously?”
“Man…”
“One.”
Canceros was silent in response to this for several moments. “And yet she…?”
“...is the Dread Empress.” The female chuckled again. “One panel to go then. I can hardly believe I’m wasting my time enlightening one such as you.”
“An atermor?”
“A dead atermor.” A pause. “That expression makes you look like a wit-addled bird. Your death does not belong to me, Canceros, and I shan’t be the one to do it.”
Canceros snorted contemptuously. “If you’re referring to that solar… whatever she is, I believe she is quite… indisposed. Princess Chidinida’s work, trying to stop her from turning her own subjects into cinders.”
“So you’ve told me.” There was the sounds of hooves on stone, strolling casually.
“Where are you going? The final panels aren’t…”
“Be silent, idiot.” Before any of them could think to react, a tall, slender pony shape appeared in the doorway, facing them. “I just wanted to see if you’d set sentries on the passage. Call it… curiosity.”
“The others are keeping those… creatures stuck in place, trying to save their ruins,” Canceros said. “There’s no need.”
“In which case, I have decided that there is a need for a short pause in my endeavor. It shall not disrupt your time table, so sit down and be silent for the moment until I return.” The pony shape entered the passage, walking towards them without any sign that she could see them. Trixie felt the tunnel seem to grow a little colder, moving from her hooves up, something she guessed was an effect of the pony-shaped thing’s mere presence. As the shape grew closer and blocked out more of the light, Trixie noticed that there was something… wrong about it.
One side looked like the features of an attractive pony mare--tall, slim carriage, a slight curve to her horn, mane trimmed to hang just passed the level of her muzzle. The other side seemed… distorted, somehow. Shrunken, withered, somehow more skeletal. The pony stopped several lengths short of them and the direction of her muzzle indicated her shifting her gaze between each one of them in turn.
“I know, Celeste, that you have very good cause to annihilate Canceros where he stands,” she said, the mellow, feminine smoothness of her Canterlot accent almost melodic-sounding now that she was directly in front of them. “But if you strike before certain matters are settled, I am oath-bound to chastise you and yours very severely. You do not wish that result. I do not wish that result.”
Celestia hesitated a moment before she drew herself up to her full height, a full head taller than the other mare. “I will not abide a nickname from an utter stranger; you will call me ‘Celestia.’ And what ‘matters’ do you refer to?”
“That is not your concern.” The mare informed her calmly. “No harm will be done to the lodestone of your Elements; the Tree of Harmony is not important in the matters directly forthcoming.”
“Why are you approaching us?” Cadence said.
“Because calling you from the room of the Tree would have alerted Canceros, which I did not wish to do. And putting someone into my power requires fairly close proximity.”
“What do you mean, put us into your power?” Celestia said, tensing visibly.
“I mean this.” And between one blink and the next, they were standing on a sheet of unnaturally smooth ice in a snowfield as far as the eye could see although strangely, Trixie didn’t feel the least bit cold.. The being’s pony shape was now healthy and lovely on both sides, her coat a glossy black, her mane silken and white… and her eyes a solid red with violet irises.
“To say that approaching you without taking certain measures would be dangerous to me is to understate things by orders of magnitude,” she said in the same pleasantly melodic voice. “I have not, and will not, attempt to harm you so long as you comply with my requirements.”
Celestia looked as stunned by the sudden change of scenery, and the change in the being, as Trixie was. Unlike Trixie, it only took her a moment to shake it off and her horn blazed with the faint amethyst light of her magic. “Where have you taken us?”
The being looked around them, entirely unconcerned with Celestia’s implied threat. “A prison of sorts,” she said. “Although only one of the prisoners is any manner of criminal, and this being the location of the prison is merely speculation for now. But to answer your question, Princess, I have not taken you anywhere. You are still standing in a tunnel under a ruined castle with your adopted niece and the rest of your group.”
Celestia doused her horn. “An illusion.”
“No. But the point of this is that we converse without any unfortunate mistakes taking place, and I would prefer that we converse and not waste each other’s time.”
“Very well.” Celestia gave the being a nod. “So you want non-interference from me until certain events happen.”
“Yes.”
“And these events do not involve harm to the Tree.”
“Correct.”
“Nor to my subjects.”
“Canceros and his ilk are idiots who latched on to the inflated promises of a con artist, so no more harm will be done to them by the events beyond what has already been done.”
“And in return for our forbearance, you will not attempt to harm us, and won’t impede me from attacking Canceros.”
“After the matters are completed, I will leave and as a point of practicality, will be unable to interfere. So yes, that is the exchange I propose.”
“What are the matters in which you require us to avoid trifling?”
“That is not your concern. You will know that the matters are concluded when I take my leave of Canceros. He is not aware of this, nor will any action of mine make him so.”
Celestia nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “And if these matters don’t go as you say they will?”
“Then your intervention will be appropriate. I will not impede appropriate intervention, although I will protect myself, my own, and those things that are my own by right or agreement.”
Celestia’s brow furrowed. “What things?”
“The webweaver Lashaal and the being she has laid hold of, who is one of your subjects.”
“Did you not say…?”
“I said that the events will not do harm to your subjects beyond what has already been done to them.” The being smiled a little, and the expression looked genuine. “But you need not fear for her.”
“The ‘she’ that you said had to remain healthy,” Celestia stated after a moment.
“Yes. The consequences for failing to abide by my word given to a being like The Weaver are are…” Fully half of the being melted away, revealing a bare, charred skeleton and the associated eye replaced with a red flame with a violet core. “...quite severe.”
Celestia visibly recoiled at the sight of the bare skeleton, until the being resumed her fully pony shape. “Assuming you’re not deceiving me, I can see how I need not fear for my subject.”
“Lies of commission are complicated, difficult, and costly,” the being said. “I profit more reliably and richly from lies of omission.”
“I find that to be true as well,” Celestia said.
“Although if the lie is well-liked, you get famous.” Trixie wasn’t sure why she spoke up, and she shrank a little as the being’s gaze swung down to fix on her.
“Bellatrix Lulamoon.” Her expression became a genuine-looking smile again. “The blow you struck against Canceros in the town square was done well, and boldly.”
Trixie blinked at her. “Uh… thanks?”
“You are welcome, little pony.” Her expression became mildly regretful. “The dreams of this luxurious land would be delicacies to remember for decades at least. All the things that might be, all the hopes that ponies share, a past and future filled with magic… all like crisp, dew-kissed wine grapes, pressed and aged to the very split-second of perfection.”
Celestia looked oddly at her. “Excuse me?”
“You need not worry, I know better than to try to match myself against your sister in her own realm.” The being bowed to her. “Do we have an accord, Celestia?”
“If I may call you by name, yes.”
The being looked thoughtfully at her for several moments before bowing her head. “A fair condition. My name is Zambet.”
And again between one blink and the next, they were standing in the tunnel with the silvery light of the Tree spilling out of the door ahead of them, largely obscuring Zambet. Trixie had the brief sensation of something flowing under her hooves towards the pony-shaped creature, and then the sensation had passed. Zambet bowed again to Celestia, this time bending both her living knee and what Trixie now knew was her skeletal one.
“Come then Princess, and your companions,” she said as she rose and turned. “Come and see, and afterwards... revenge.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.028 seconds
Total duration
1,019 users online
1,833,685 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Hmm, if the Zambet isn't after killing Twilight what is she up to?
Twilight IS Celestia's daughter and by association one of her subjects so she is protected under the agreement.
Words
To be honest, I'm still pretty lost. I just can't remember who everyone is or what they've done. Although, with this update schedule, at least I can keep track of the current protagonists and their relation to the others more easily. Repetition helps immensely in this regard. Aka, keep up the good work, I like it.
8922117
I get that. There have been points where I've lost track myself and characters will sometimes change names between mentions (for example, the pre-exile changeling queen Amaryss was named something different in an earlier chapter). After this is all over, I'll need to go back and fix the beginning to agree with the end because the latter chapters are steadily more coherent (at least from my author perspective).
Oh, he was definitely involved on some level, just not necessarily as the destroyer.
Backstabbing and trickery, subtle machinations of those we do not understand. Par for the course here.
The first paragraph appears to be referring to Celestia as she, so that would mean Celestia says caramel apples. Yet, Celestia says carrot cake. It would make sense for Trixie to think of caramel apples, but not for her to casually reference Big Mac's marefriend as another entity.
I suspect this could benefit from a rewording.
Extra opening quotation.
she
Missing line.
11730434
I agree.
Thanks, thanks, and thanks again. :)
11732082
Okay, we've narrowed it down to Celestia is Big Mac’s marefriend or Trixie setting herself down from Celestia's magic. That, or the narration jumps with no indicator whatsoever.
Here, try this:
Celestia descended to just in front of the rough-hewn opening in the cliff under the bridge and brushed aside the dead remains of the vines before setting Trixie down gently. Just as Matchstick had described, the vines looked melted like hot water poured over ice, or a powerful acid over pretty much anything else. Trixie fully expected one of the many smells of burning plants; six months as Big Mac’s marefriend had treated her to a wide variety since cleaning up plant debris was a natural part of working on a farm.
Also, completely unrelated, but I noticed it while checking out your edits:
said
11732580
Thanks for the suggestion. :)
And thanks for pointing that out as well.