Of Chimeras

by Siofra

Underseer 1

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

My legs were sore and sluggish. I saw the mare long before I’d gotten anywhere near my home. It seemed she was waiting for me to come within earshot. I did not acknowledge her question. Simply, I unlocked the door and pushed myself through.

Inside was draughty and eerily silent. In the foyer hung an unlit chandelier which had gathered a small cobweb. I heard the sound of luggage being shuffled across the floor, then the door shut behind me.

“The Princess was expecting a response,” said Aurora. I faced her with heavy eyes.

“Had the Princess received a response you wouldn’t be here right now.”

She began trotting around the foyer, wrinkling her muzzle at the dust and the arid smell. She discarded a huge brown trunk at the foot of my stairs and sighed.

“I will need a study, preferably one within my bedroom.” She peeked her head around the living room door and regarded the large bookshelf. “Is there a library in this town?”

“Of course there is,” I said. “Golden Oak, its in the middle of town. I will take you if you like.”

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I hope my room is ready, I’ve been travelling all day.”

“How taxing,” I said. I shuffled up the stairs, and as I reached the top I noticed Aurora still standing there in the foyer. She looked at her luggage.

“You don’t expect me to drag this all the way up there, do you?”

“Ms. I assure you, if you were anything but a talented unicorn…”

Her eyebrows sunk and her horn lit up in a yellow glow. She followed me up to the second floor, baggage in tow and I led her to her room. She was- quite stupidly- disappointed to see it just as unkept as the rest of the house. She dumped her trunk onto the bed and aroused a blizzard of dust. She began choking. Stoically, I tried my best not to inhale the dust or at least not react to it.

“Don’t you have a maid!?”

“If you’d like, I’d pay you to keep the house during your stay.”

“As if,” she said as the dust settled. There was a slight flavour of caution in her voice, as if any sound too loud may provoke it again. “I will be far too busy in my duties.”

“Your duties,” I repeated. “Have you organised an event like this before?”

“It won’t be difficult. I only need to make sure you’re all doing your jobs.”

“There’s more to it than that. It takes coordination, guidance-”

“I hope you would all be competent enough by now not to need guidance.” She was unpacking her luggage now. Every drawer in the room was empty, save for whatever pests might have taken lease, so her possessions effortlessly danced in the air before resting into its natural place in the room. By the end of it all, the room felt denser. Even our voices became much less reverberant.

“I wish it were that easy. We have a number of new faces to the event this year.”

“Hah!” There was a sudden and quite unnerving song in her tone. “That explains it then. The Princess knows a disaster-in-waiting when she sees one. That’s why I’m here.”

“No,” I said stolidly. Though it certainly felt more likely. “And if that were the case, I sense she would send somepony more… qualified.”

“Qualified? Mr…”

“Sea Fair. Admiral.”

“Mr. Sea Fair, I am no stock and ditzy coed. I am Princess Celestia’s favourite, most accomplished and most trusted student. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“I did not mean to offend. Just… have you considered that perhaps your presence here is meant more as a learning experience?”

Aurora simply laughed- rather a sharp hum than a laugh. A fluffy blue robe came from her trunk and it wrapped itself around her shoulders.

“I’d like to be left alone, please. You may run me a bath.”

“Very well. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, Ms.” I trotted toward the door and began to shut it behind myself. “Goodnight.”

The exchange was- with no concern shown for manners- exhausting. Yet despite this, I found an energy within me which hadn’t quite been there since this morning to be reignited. Passing the bathroom, I took myself to the living room where there was a small study and plenty of parchment to get to work with it. I spread the creamy paper across the desk’s surface and pressed against it a wet quill.

By the end of the night I had written an agenda; of all the ponies we'd need to visit the next morning and in order of... difficulty. I sensed that Aurora would get along well with Angel Dove and possibly Purple Prose, so I slotted them into the early morning and left the other two to last. In the mid-day I would give her the opportunity to oversee my decorations.

Feeling optimistic for the day to come, I pridefully rolled the agenda up with a knot of twine and left it on the desk. I headed for bed, it was the first time in days I'd be sleeping there. The draught upstairs had been tempered somewhat by the hot steam of a bath. I heard the scratching of a metal nib on paper. Aurora called out,

"Can I use your fireplace, Mr. Sea Fair?"

"Its in the living room," I said. "You'll need to light it yourself, I'm off to bed."

The writing paused for a moment, then continued.

I collapsed into bed like a sack of carrots, but I could not sleep. My energy still hadn’t been exhausted, but what more could I do? Nothing, until tomorrow. Then I would whip that insolent filly into shape. I thought about it all night; about why she was here and why I had been entrusted with her. The Princess could have made any number of arrangements, Ponyville had many bed and breakfasts, inns, just downright friendly ponies willing to house a young mare. But she chose me for a reason.

I did not know the Princess. Nobody did. But she was an enduring leader, and enduring leaders don’t endure by keeping ponies like Aurora in their camp. All the same, such talent and magical proclivity… It would be a waste to discard that over a simple issue of temperament.

I heard dripping and the wet splat of hooves on my wooden floor. The hoofsteps disappeared downstairs. I closed my eyes and let the silence carry me to sleep. The next time I opened them it was morning.

---

My eyes were pried open by a scream that could curdle milk. Hooves were being stomped and the scream turned into a hysterical shudder. I ripped myself from bed and galloped into the hall, Aurora was grimacing at the door of her room in a frenzied dance.

“What on earth is the matter!?”

“A vampire is trying to break in!” she said, pointing into her bedroom. I frowned, my muscles relaxed. The tension in my brow remained. My reaction must have relieved some stress in Aurora too- or at least confused her enough to forget her urgency- because by the time I pressed the door open she had stopped stomping her hooves.

“Get away from the window,” I yelled. “How many times do I need to tell you?” There was a pony on the other face of the window miming at me. I threw the window open.

“Thorry to vithit tho early, Admiral!” she said. Her fangs were hooked over her lip and every word gave way to a shower of saliva.

“That wasn’t even the right window.”

“I thaw thomepony in here!” She said, pointing toward Aurora. “I’m Batterfly, nithe to meet you!” She turned to me and shot a sly wink. I shook my head disapprovingly.

“Somepony ought to teach you some manners,” Aurora said. “It’s six o’ clock!”

Batterfly looked around the room in wonderment. I looked to see what she was gawking at, and realised that every shelf and cabinet in the room had become a seat for some kind of magical utensil. A system of beakers and tubes had been arranged on the coffer, a peculiar timepiece rotating within a cubic square sat on the bedside cabinet. The drawers had been pulled out into tiers to make room for an elaborate device which seemed to be giving readings – what for I had no idea. At the very bottom of the cabinet was a pile of gold and jewels. Batterfly was eyeing those in particular.

“Should you be leaving those around?” I asked.

“It’s for my dragon,” she said, so matter-of-factly.

“Oh, I see.”

“Your dragon?” Batterfly repeated in a wonderous shock that snapped me back to my senses.

“A dragon!?” I repeated yet again. “Princess Celestia said nothing about a dragon! I refuse to house such a beast.”

“It’s just a baby dragon,” she shrugged, trotting toward the door. Batterfly followed. “It can barely breathe fire.”

“And my home is made of… oh, I don’t know, at least one-quarter straw? The rest being wood?”

“If anything happens to your home – and it won’t – rest assured that Celestia will recompense all damages!”

“Ith anypony hungry?” Batterfly interjected, which startled Aurora so much she'd almost stumbled down the stairs.

“Who are you again?” Aurora asked. “Like, a marefriend or a… gifted little sister?”

“We can talk about her later,” I said just as we reached the foyer. “She’s very busy today. You were just leaving, weren’t you?” I darted my eyes toward Batterfly. She fell back on her flank and squirmed.

“Um, that’th right. I do have a lot on my plate today. But I’m altho hungry.”

I swung the front door open. Batterfly stared at it vacantly, she wasn’t used to doors. So, using my magic, I grabbed her by the tail and dragged her back out into the street from where she came. I slammed the door behind her and returned to Aurora.

“As I was saying, we will talk about her later.”

“Are we just going to ignore the whole… bat thing?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said heading into the living room. The agenda was still lying on the desk where I’d left it, neatly tied in a bundle of postal string. It levitated its way into my jacket – I had no reason to read it, I remembered every step I’d written – and tucked itself neatly into my breast pocket.

“I’d like to visit the library soon,” she said.

“Very well,” I said. “We need to visit Purple Prose anyway.” Aurora tilted her head. “She’s a new face. She wrote this year’s stageplay, for the story of the three pony tribes. She wrote the mayor’s speech too.”

“That’s quite a diverse set of skills,” Aurora said.

“Quite,” I said. “But first… are you hungry?”