The Tyrant Within

by Impossible Numbers

The Dressage Downs

Ten Years Later

From the border came a glint of gold. High in the sky, a midday star: the chariot, pulled by two pegasi in full golden armour. Sapphires glinted on the chariot and on their chests, daytime blue. They crossed over endless fields, forests, hills, and valleys on their way west.

The Most Noble, Her Grace, The Duchess Celestia of Cosmopolitica, part of the Royal Peerage of Equestria, peered over the edge of her chariot.

Ten years without Cinch had tamed her. Once, she would have bounced from side to side, admiring the views whilst chatting away with the two guards. Now, she sat contented as a lioness. The winds stirred her flowing mane, not that she needed wind: power sparkled among the hairs like stars in a flushed night.

Only her fidgeting hooves betrayed her.

She relaxed as the soothing green of the Old Country flowed beneath. In fact, she was deeply impressed. To think: thousands of tons of ice had once condemned this land to death. Times changed. So much had changed. Celestia had seen too much change.

On an impulse, she caved in and glanced far behind. The glint of another chariot indicated that Luna was catching up. She’d had to stay behind to quash a dark spirit attack on the northern border of Equestria. Evidently, she hadn’t needed long, but these attacks worried Celestia. No matter how much stronger their drive, the world always seemed to force them up steep cliffs. Sooner or later, they’d crash.

Which was why this visit was so hopeful. Good news at last…?

Finally, deep into the Old Country, she saw it.

A vast wall of crystal, punctuated by spire after spire which shone white as each caught the sunlight. The jagged outer rim of the city, marking the boundary between the rough forest and untouched grasslands outside, and the young civilization inside. Celestia saw the black iron gates that marked the only way in or out by land. They were topped with crystals like shark’s teeth.

Further in, she saw the usual arrangement, no different from Everfree City: the hovels and huts and humble abodes. Only here, the city was far more assertive in dividing itself. Another wall of crystal separated this thin hoop of an outer ring from the much more boastful architecture inside.

As they passed the inner wall, Celestia noticed windows and turrets on the jagged ramparts. Pegasus guards and unicorn soldiers had been posted on the spires.

The architecture became at once grander, vaster, taller, and yet more severe. Poplar trees stood guard, as menacing as the dart-shaped feathers of a gigantic bird of prey. Dark brickwork dominated, avenues and boulevards ran between metallic spires, crystallized arches insisted on dividing up the districts further into segments, cloud rings were arranged with clockface precision.

An invisible shimmering betrayed the aura of powerful magic. When Celestia looked up, she saw a convincing copy of the Fire of Friendship, a single heart burning over the citadel like a watchful phoenix.

Phoenix. Celestia’s smile broke out, in spite of all stately self-control.

Up ahead stood the palace.

It had been separated from the lesser buildings around it by surprisingly empty fields. The space seemed to do nothing but show off how much grass could be crammed in one place. It was at once wildly grandiose and cautiously modest.

The palace itself: a fusion of the same dark brickwork and crystal spires. Its core was earth, its edges ice, its windows like frozen ponds, its cloak of ivy so strictly controlled that it was barely discernible.

Two spires at the front marked the end of the road and the beginning of the steps to those arched portals, and thus to the harsh opulence within.

Celestia could see someone there already.

Her chariot lowered, slowed, landed with barely a bump. Celestia waited until the guards’ wings folded, then descended to the white gravel on the road.

Up ahead stood the princess of this land. She came down the steps to greet her guests.

Celestia watched her with professional interest. The same uptight stiffness in the limbs, the same hard-edged snout, the same aura of cool detachment like a blue forcefield…

Celestia spread her cramp-suffering wings.

The princess stopped. Taken aback. The only flaw in her smooth approach.

Quickly, she continued. Celestia folded her wings under a travelling cloak pulled from the chariot. It didn’t pay to draw too much attention to one’s achievements.

The princess smiled curtly as soon as she arrived.

“Welcome, Your Grace,” she said, “to the Dressage Downs.”

Celestia bowed. “Thank you, Princess Abacus Cinch.”

Then she couldn’t resist. She embraced Cinch. To no one’s surprise, Cinch didn’t move an inch, and promptly ignored it thereafter.

Cinch’s gaze fell upon Celestia’s wings beneath the travelling cloak. “I see you’ve had some adventures of your own, old friend. You must tell me about them sometime. But first, allow me to show you the glory of the ‘Old Country’ as a new country…”

---

“Magnificent, isn’t it?”

Coolly, Celestia was inclined to agree. Staring out from the battlements of the tallest crystal spire, the web-like layout of the citadel became much clearer.

Perhaps in her honour, perhaps as a matter of course, a parade of clanking, chanting soldiers marched down the main boulevard bisecting the city, under many arches and across one of the ornate bridges shackling the river. Crowds waved flags and cheered on either side.

High up on their vantage point, Cinch stood in the centre as host country and head of state. Celestia stood to her left. Luna, who Cinch noticed did not have wings yet, stood to her right.

All three of them stood gravely, as though attending a funeral march. Except for Celestia, who couldn’t resist leaning over the edge like a gawping child.

Cinch noticed. A zap of a smile sparked her lips.

“The Dressage Downs are not entirely secure yet,” she explained whilst sidelong-scanning every serene feature of her old friend’s face. “However, the remaining windigoes have nowhere to go. Once we have achieved total control here, my army will eliminate those remnants.”

“Eliminate…” Celestia stirred and straightened herself, at a cough from Luna. “Oh yes, of course. I noticed the Fire of Friendship over the city.”

“A primitive but useful collective spell. Thank my Sidesaddle Soldiers for that.”

On some of the flags, the pink “S” could be seen. Celestia watched the procession approach the main iron gates of the palace. They weren’t going to come in; they stamped in place and sang what was presumably the national anthem. She noticed how strict and regular the rhythm was, as if the tune had been measured with a steel rule.

They flared their magic like fireworks. Flames, plumes of water, whirring metal swords…

“You see,” continued Cinch, “Sensei Meadowbrook was on the right lines, but her theories – and those of all the other squabbling rivals – were sadly incomplete. It has taken me years to fully explore all the elemental possibilities of magic.”

She glanced at Luna. No reaction there either.

Cinch added, “Obviously, there is more hard work to be done.”

“I see you favour the lunar influence.” Luna’s pupils followed the metal and ice flying in the air above the soldiers’ heads. “Water and ice, earth and metal.”

“And darkness, yes, though we keep the knowledge of that particular element under tight control.”

“Tight control…” Celestia murmured. “Yes…”

“Overall, though, we do not discriminate. See the solar influence among my troops as well? Fire and light, lofty wind, a few wood and nature spells… lightning, as well. Our scholars at the Everton Academy have unearthed a strange but all-too-real connection between fire and lightning. Possibly ethereal. It is a most intriguing line of study, but it helped them recreate the old Fire of Friendship. A mere replica compared with the original, of course. Under our strong unity, however –”

Luna bowed her head. “We have much to learn from you.”

Meanwhile, Celestia did not take her eyes off the soldiers.

Cinch regarded her friend’s wings for a long time. “It’s a remarkable historical coincidence. First, the legend of Princess Alicorn, the only pony ever born with all three tribal natures combined, fated to bring peace to the warring tribes…”

“If she existed,” added Celestia.

Cinch’s shutter-quick smile could have meant anything. “Then all three tribes uniting on their own to bring another peace.”

“Mmm.”

“A union of tribal natures.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yet you have acquired yours.”

“Indeed.”

“I hear much from my contacts in Equestria, but not everything. May I enquire as to how you achieved this miracle?”

Celestia paused a little too long, as though distracted by the anthem.

“It’s a long story,” was all she said.

Eventually, Cinch looked confused, then frowned and looked away. “I see.”

“And it’s an interesting coincidence yourself, using the title of ‘princess’ and uniting all three tribes in this land.”

Luna gave a warning cough.

Cinch laughed idly. “An unofficial title. Once my government has achieved total control of the outlying regions and declared the Dressage Downs secured, we would gladly allow ourselves to be peacefully annexed by the new Equestria.”

Apparently having heard nothing interesting, Celestia suddenly pointed. “What are those?”

Irritated, Cinch followed her gaze: over the heads of the crowd, but drifting more purposefully elsewhere, the floating crystals seemed to keep watch.

“A necessary precaution,” she said. “They are called the Icy Curities. They curate – if you will – the citizenry on our government’s behalf.”

“Surveillance?”

“Indeed. I have united the three tribes from the Old Country, but not everyone is onboard with my program. That is why I need the Icy Curities to act as my eyes and ears. I told you: the Fire of Friendship is our defence, such defence requires unity, unity is threatened by dissent.” Amused, she turned to the impassive Celestia. “After all, I hear Equestria is still experiencing trouble in that area.”

“We have been busy, yes.” Celestia did not meet her eye.

“Hm, I daresay those would be long stories too.” Confusion and suspicion rolled across Cinch’s face, but she shook it aside. More warmly, she added, “But come, let me show you the crown jewel of this brave young nation: education.”

Luna’s ears perked up sharply.

Celestia’s shoulders slumped. “Oh. Education. I can’t wait.”

---

“…the Academy of Everton is, of course, nothing like as hallowed as Master Star Swirl’s old school, but with novelty comes innovation,” continued Cinch through another doorway. Luna kept eager pace alongside. Celestia grudgingly brought up the rear.

The Academy of Everton was a cathedral-sized building, itself annexed to the palace. Cinch had guided them through classroom after classroom, quietly whispering in corners whilst tutors talked, loudly explaining her students’ victories when they found themselves alone. Celestia was fighting not to yawn. Old habits died hard.

Crystal architecture or not, she noticed how similar the chambers were to their old school. Cinch had practically copied the facilities down to the scratches.

“Ah, an excellent opportunity.” Cinch held up a hoof, and the two sisters stopped.

Classes were very unlike the old school. Where Celestia had been used to the murmuring, chattering, tittering, and scratching of unicorns trying to get away with it under the tutor’s nose, here ponies of all kinds sat like rows of statues. Not a peep. Not a breath.

Celestia shuddered.

At the front of the class, a tutor and his assistant carefully positioned glassware as though constructing three-dimensional art. Bubbles and gurgles ran through the pipes, fleeing the burning spell the assistant’s horn now applied.

“We accept only the best and the brightest students,” announced Cinch, whilst around her the class fought not to acknowledge her existence. “Many go on to serve in our government. Others act as official taskmasters throughout the Dressage Downs.”

Luna leaned across to whisper, “What are they doing?”

“This?” said Cinch as though it were of no importance. “Potions class. Magic available to all tribes, and hence of great value to our united country. This class is learning Restoration.”

“I see.”

Suddenly, Celestia spoke: “A mixture of Mage Meadowbrook’s healing and Star Swirl’s sorcery…” She watched the tutor crumple something into a beaker. “…with a touch of Mistmane’s lotus petals for beauty, I take it?”

Cinch was impressed. “Wonderfully astute. Although we are a new nation, we see no reason not to use older theories as stepping-stones.”

“Stepping-stones?” repeated Luna.

“Our magical understanding has thus progressed to a grand unified theory. But I’m getting ahead of myself –”

Celestia coughed genteelly. “I was given to understand we were due a welcome feast…?”

Even Luna sighed at that.

Cinch rolled her eyes; she smiled, nonetheless. “Of course, some things never change. Do they, old friend?”

---

Apart from her undulating mane, Celestia remained still during the feast.

In the Governmental Hall, she and Luna were guests of honour either side of the “throne” – actually just a big chair with a pointy backrest. On either side, the government ponies sat and chewed almost in tandem. Celestia wished they didn’t. It creeped her out.

The central floor was clear, the better to demonstrate highly skilled entertainments. A troupe of unicorns surrounded each other. At first, they appeared to be fighting – the swift legwork and weaving horns reminded Celestia of the old dojo – but their spells (vines whirled, daggers orbited, a few thunderbolts arced in seconds) struck only air, dodged around each other, danced in beautiful lattices.

Politely, the spectators stamped their applauding hooves.

With her travelling cloak over her wings, Celestia relaxed. In truth, the chef’s delicacies sparked and cartwheeled along her tongue, taking her back to happier times with their perfection. The entertainments reminded her of the noise and bustle of friendlier times. She had to fight not to whack the table and whoop. But no, she was older now.

By contrast, Cinch slumped in her seat, dead-eyed and fidgeting.

Eventually, the Captain of the Sidesaddle Soldiers hurried through a backdoor to Cinch’s chair. Hurried whispers. Cinch straightened up and followed him out of the room with a careless: “One moment, please.”

Celestia rubbed her chin and caught Luna’s eye. They nodded and stepped away.

“Excuse us,” said Celestia cheerfully. “Which way to the little filly’s room?”

In the antechamber, they noted Cinch and the captain deep in heated discussion. Unnoticed themselves, Celestia leaned over to Luna.

“Now might be a good time to investigate,” she whispered.

Luna raised an eyebrow back. “You’re sure the reports were correct?”

“Increasingly so. I can sense a powerful magic nearby.”

“The Fire of Friendship, surely?”

“No. There’s more here than meets the eye. I sense another source of magic, deep below. You know what to do.”

Luna nodded. A slight shimmer, a collapse of her form: the starry shadow slid along the ground and out of the room.

Meanwhile, Celestia counted to ten, then stepped forwards, coughing politely. “Not enjoying the feast, Cinch?”

Both Cinch and the captain fell silent at once. Impatiently, Cinch shooed him away.

“I’ve never been one for relaxing,” she drawled. “Not when there is work to be done. A drink, perhaps?”

Celestia regarded the tray being offered. She selected the nearest cup, took a sip.

“Interesting flavour,” she commented.

“Apologies. My captain has the kitchen staff taste-test all food and beverages before it is served. Security is paramount. We have many enemies.”

They briefly listened to the tap of hooves and a few strings of chamber music. Clearly, the entertainments were reaching their climax. Celestia resisted the urge to go back and seize the joy.

“I take it you’re not just here to sightsee?” barked Cinch suddenly.

She knows, thought Celestia. Aloud, she said, “It has been a long time, old friend.”

“Yes…” Cinch let the word melt like a meringue on her tongue. “Have you met my new friend?”

With a whistle, Cinch gestured to the highest stained-glass window, which had a gap in its centre. Rushing through the gap with an answering shriek, the explosion of shards, the rush of razor winds, the entrance of the plumed peacock of ice.

They watched in awe as it circled around the antechamber, briefly conjuring a ring of snowflakes that settled and twinkled out of sight. The bird landed with a slide of feathers onto Cinch’s shoulder.

“My word,” said Celestia.

“Yes,” said Cinch, openly smirking. “Her name is Bludnox. She is a rare and unusual creature.”

“The Blizzard of Paradise.”

“She has been invaluable in combating the spirits of ice. But of course, you yourself have found a rare bird, by all accounts. A phoenix. Of fire.”

The Blizzard of Paradise preened her tail feathers as though the audience were of no concern.

“Ice and fire,” murmured Cinch. “Hot and cold. Light and darkness. Notice the solar and lunar patterns of duality? The elements are all aspects of this cosmic duality, which itself is the product of something more fundamental. Fuel for a new theory of magic.”

Celestia shrugged yet licked her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed their talks, and was warming up for the role.

“That’s an old theory, Cinch.”

“But one vindicated by your remarkable skills. Celestial power over sun and moon.”

“I tend to favour the sun,” corrected Celestia, as though admitting to an embarrassing quirk in her bowling technique.

“Nonetheless, you have demonstrated that the seemingly disparate elements can be united.” Cinch’s gaze flickered towards the wings under the cloak. “Perhaps strengthened. You might consider it a pillar for a new age. One uniting philosophy.”

“That’s what Star Swirl used to say,” said Celestia. “He was the guiding principle for centuries. They said he’d lived for so long and ruled so firmly that the unicorns couldn’t imagine a world without him. And look what happened there.”

Cinch regarded her for several seconds. The blue eyes of hers were clear and deep, like the open possibilities of the summer sky.

“Precisely,” she said. “When all is said and done, Star Swirl was unreliable.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I –”

“Do you know,” continued Cinch, “that according to legend, Princess Alicorn – thanks to her exceptional condition – was said to be immortal? Philosophers through the ages hoped to recreate her miracle by fusing the three essences of ponydom, to no success. Yet here you are. I believe we might have hope after all.”

“You do?”

“Of course. For all your prancing about and idleness, you were a gifted student.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Cinch stroked the feathered head of Bludnox. “My first act in the Dressage Downs was to seek out assistance: Bludnox here was my prize. It has taken many sacrifices to train her into obedience, and still I pay the price. Are you aware, for instance, that thanks to my years alongside this magical prodigy’s cold influence, my body will age much slower than usual? I am practically immortal. My legacy beckons, much like Star Swirl’s, but on a far grander scale…”

Silence.

Celestia’s eye narrowed to an arrowhead. In Cinch’s deep blue ones, she saw no sign of restraint. Neither life nor spark.

“Cinch,” Celestia said gently, “I’m worried about what I’ve been hearing from your realm. Creating the Dressage Downs isn’t just a call of duty for you, is it?”

Cinch’s eyes widened with surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Cinch, I know you. You’ve always overexerted yourself. I see it now in your tired eyes, your listless stance, your inability to know when to stop.”

“I have been nothing but dutiful!” Cinch protested. “Forget what my envious enemies say! There is one true pillar, Celestia! One security upon which the whole world can stand. You have sacrificed for it, too. You must understand.”

Deep inside her skull, Celestia switched masks. Her face became softer, rounder, like the sun behind a shrouding cloud.

“I’m still learning,” she admitted.

Out of old loyalty, Cinch reached up and patted her on the shoulder. “Come with me, old friend. Let me show you what I’ve achieved.”

---