Discord`s Gate

by elmagnifico

Exaltation and Trepidation

Smoke, black as ink, billowed like a thick sea fog. It was everywhere, only interrupted briefly by the flashes of light and sound. A shriek and a crash, followed by a thud and a resounding detonation.

Thunderclaps and lightning strikes, fireballs and glowing lances arced through the cloud, and the sounds of the wounded were all around. A spike of bone, a brief light, whistling noises from above, and an omnipresent huff and chuff, like an ancient titan breathing hard.

Another light pierced the somber clouds, starting off as a faint pin-prick and growing steadily. A buzzing noise filled the air as waving threads reached out from the light. The clash of blades and the whisper of wind, like a great bat, joined the cascade as the crackle of electricity intensified until the light had consumed all.

Then he awoke.

Under a sun that burned with the vigor of return to a recently disturbed routine, a pony poked his dark-gray nose out from under a makeshift lean-to. The ramshackle structure was little more than a collection of branches with a tarp draped over it, one of two resting against a boulder perched contrary to all geological sense on the summit of a hill several day's trot from Discord's Gate. When no pyroclastic fury reached out to smite the nose, it was joined by a face.

The face, along with a brown mane and the rest of the body it was attached to, belonged to an Eponan. His name was Dark Cell Kinlafillia, and it was entirely his fault. His name, not the interdimensional diplomatic mess. The blame for that fell squarely on his poor comrade Pathmark.

As for his name, Kinlafillia he'd been born with, but he'd joined the Chalk Son company during a highly emotional phase. Going out to work under the Portal Authority had been the latest rebellion against his staunchly conservative Farmalian parents in a time of his life filled with poetry and wearing a lot of black. Once the assumed name was in the records he was stuck with what he'd put on the paper, regardless of later remorse.

Dark Cell had been living atop this hill for several days now, in the company of the occupant of the other lean-to, for whatever it was worth. The stereotype was for Arapalfrians to be quiet and stoic, but Barrel Caster of Bolakanter could have given any of the plains-ponies a run for their money. The serious black-and-white-splotched stallion was only responsible for guarding Dark Cell, but guards tended to interact with their charges on at the very least last-name terms. Since they were paired up for this expedition Barrel had only spoken once to Dark Cell, to warn of the water moccasin Kinlafillia had been seconds from treading on.

With nopony aside from his guard to converse with, Dark Cell found himself muttering to himself quite often in Farmalese, avoiding the common Trakhenian that was the standard among Portal Authority teams. After all, it would never do if dear Barrel knew the things said about him when Dark Cell got frustrated...

Dark Cell was jarred from his reverie by the arrival of a small turquoise bird.

“Well now, how are we today little missy?”

The creature chirped at him, accepting some seeds a bag Kinlafillia kept on him for such occasions before fixing Dark Cell with the glare messenger birds were trained to give their handlers to deliver an urgent missive. Dark Cell replied in kind, and the link between Whisperers was formed.

Dark Cell's eyes widened as the bird's conversation with Tall Sands was remunerated and the situation became clear. Her message delivered, the bird shifted position and cocked her head, awaiting instructions.

“Get along back to Tall Sands miss, we wouldn't want him with just one bird in a combat zone. Tell him I'll get the message up-chain as quick as I can, and we'll be on the lookout for fliers like he described in the last one. BARREL!”

Hearing his name, the jet-colored guard stuck his head out of his lean-to. A loud grunt was sent off in Dark Cell's general direction as a question.

“Mm-hm?”

“Message just came in from Tall Sands. I need to cross the portal to relay it up-chain.”

“Mmph.”

Another grunt as the Barrel brought his weapon to its familiar resting place on his shoulder. The motion would have looked completely alien to an Equestrian, as the object moved without the concentration of a Unicorn's telekinesis or the accompanying glowing aura. To Barrel Caster, it was less than a thought, as automatic as walking or breathing.

Dark Cell sighed as he followed suit with his own weapon. Unlike his guard, he'd never used the thing outside of target practice, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to have the thing along, and with these incidents, not to mention the possibility of flying assailants, it would certainly be better safe than sorry.

The two ponies tromped down the eastern side of the small rounded hill. All around them, except where they were going, the plains were dotted with similar earthen humps, doubtless the leavings of some ancient glacier as it retreated with the rising global temperatures. A mere fifty yards from their makeshift encampment, the air shimmered like a mirage.

If a pegasus or similar flying creature were to look at it, the observer would find the phenomenon to extend nearly a kilometer into the air. Were a mathematician look at it in its entirety, they would be able to tell the anomaly to took up an arc comprising approximately two thirds of a circle, with the remaining third presumably stuck underground.

All this wonderful data was completely lost on the two Eponans, who had grown used to staring at the portal, and indeed most of the landscape thereabouts. It was nothing but rolling grassy hills and temperate weather to Whitewater Gorge and the horizon in one direction, and bitterly dry desert in the other.

That two drastically contrasting climes would be stapled into such close proximity was merely another of the oddities that came of being around portals, and neither of the two ponies spared it any thought as they stepped through into the blasting heat of what was, in the home universe at least, the Southern Desert.

Nopony could have told what was going through Barrel Caster's mind, this was just southeast of where he'd been born, on the west coast of Epona in the port city of Bolakanter. He stared into the distance, either reminiscing or keeping watch.

Dark Cell, on the other hoof, was fully occupied with his own duties. He deposited his weapon at his hooves and reached.

Tapping was a particularly strenuous duty for an Eponan, and as such only certain ponies were born with the ability to do it reliably. This made them rather valuable, hence the guard to ensure nothing happened to him as he ensured information could travel from expeditions in the field such as Hard Trail's back up-chain towards civilization.

The action was rather like picking up his weapon, or any other object, but instead of concentrating on something within hoof's reach, Dark Cell had to go a bit further. He thought back to when he'd last seen his goal.

The room back at Fort Quiver had been a small affair, walls made of unadorned logs, with the only furniture being a table and a chair for Old Snicker, the Fort's Tapper. The ancient nag was probably sleeping there now, but it wouldn't do to think about that. Dark Cell redoubled his concentration.

The table was as spartan as the room it stood in, wooden planks atop wooden poles, with the focus set squarely in the middle. The focus itself was an unremarkable little device, a metal ball-bearing enclosed by four wires. Those wires were set up like a track, they kept the sphere of steel from moving in any direction except vertically for a few inches.

Both table and focus were bolted down, as if either were to move more than a milimeter or two, Tapping would be quite impossible. That ball had to be just where he'd left it when he attuned to the little thing, or he wouldn't be able to grab it with his telekinesis from this great distance.

Normally, moving anything from less than half a meter, far less hundreds of kilometers away was quite impossible. Years of training to get the idea, and then a week of sitting there in a trance, absolute silence whilst watching that little sphere, knowing it and its location down to the last molecule and impurity, allowed Dark Cell to reach out and cause it to rise from its cradle. He held the ball aloft for a second, and then let it drop into the metal cradle, making the sound that gave his discipline its name.

“Tap.”

Sure enough, the noise awoke Old Snicker, who had a guard of her own, the one on duty at this moment being blessed with the name of Doodle. His responsibility was watching to make sure no messages were missed, as was standard, albeit unnecessary, for most Tappers. The ball rose and fell two more times in the agreed-upon signal of the beginning of a transmission, to give any receivers slow on the uptake the chance to get ready.

In any case, the message proceeded as Dark Cell continued to move the ball, sometimes to the top of the wire assembly, sometimes only half way. This series of taps and half-taps formed a code, one that all military personnel were required to learn by heart, and that Tappers could speak practically as a separate language.

The little noises formed letters, which in turn formed words, which made up short-winded messages, which Old Snicker scribbled down on a convenient notepad as her guard followed along to make sure the aging girl got everything.

Snicker was old, not senile, they didn't let senile ponies work the Tapper lines. The message got written, and then she and Doodle made their way to the other side of the portal that Fort Quiver stood beside. Another ball began bouncing at the next fort.

“Tap. Tap. Tap.” “They're coming -stop- don't know their purpose -stop- will update if able -stop- Creatrix rest our souls -stop-”

Shale awoke with a start. She attempted to rise from her prone position, only to be pushed back down by a light brown hoof.

“Ah, you're awake.”

Shale tried to get her bearings, but her ears were ringing, a headache to end all headaches was coming on. She couldn't see anything beyond a teal curtain, a dark-blue wall with a window in it, the horned stallion that had spoken to her, a stark white mare in the corner with a livid purple mane, a nightstand with what looked like that glowing crystal from before, and a set of sky blue sheets.

“Where am I?”

“You're in Ponyville General Hospital. My name is Doctor Stable, and this is Nurse Openheart. We'll be in charge of taking care of you until you've recovered.”

“Recovered from what?”

“From the spell-shock. When Twilight hit you with that translation spell, something went wrong, and the feedback from that released the energy she'd put into the spell onto you in the form of leyball lightning. Honestly you were lucky she didn't try something that required more power, otherwise you would have been electrocuted rather than just suffering some mana-burns and a mild concussion.

Now, Ms. Sparkle has told me you might have an abnormal physiology, I've certainly never seen a pony your age with no cutie mark, so I'll be going for a more holistic approach with your care. How do you feel?”

Shale groaned. She honestly didn't want to deal with this right now.

“My head aches like it's being crushed in a vice, but other than that I feel fine.”

“Good, at least our bandaging didn't seem to have any side effects. The migrane is a normal symptom for somepony who's received a jolt like yours, I'll let you get some rest.”

When Shale next awoke, she could hear the snores of somepony on the other side of the curtains. Before she could start plugging her ears or throwing things at the offending sleeper, there was a loud slam outside her little teal compound. The noise was consistent with a door being flung open rapidly, but considering the other things she'd seen thus far Shale felt it best not to assume.

A frantic pair of voices reached Shale's ears, apparently someone was coming, and the room wasn't nearly up to spec? In any case, the duo were silenced by a third speaker.

“It'll be alright, the princess knows we're a busy medical facility. We haven't had time to dust in here today because of the new patient and Ms. Top's needs. Now, what would definitely get us in trouble would be if either of them were neglected. So spend these last few seconds making sure we haven't forgotten anything.”

At this point the curtains parted, and another nurse, this one cream colored with minty green hair, trooped in, followed by the purple-maned one from earlier and a third mare with a pink coat and a purple and white striped mane. The cream nurse turned to Shale.

“Have they given you anything for that migrane? I'm Nurse Coldheart, by the by.”

“No, but I really don't feel all that bad, and I'm not sure if your medicine would affect me the same way it does your kind, no offense.”

“Well, I really don't see how it would be any different. Aspirin works on most, be they donkeys, cows or ponies. Why shouldn't it work for you?”

Shale shrugged.

“I'm still not sure how you lot are able to speak Surkholti, and I have no idea what a donkey or cow is, but without seeing all the ingredients myself and knowing if they're exactly the same, I can't be sure what you call Aspirin is the same remedy my own medics would prescribe.”

The head nurse, for that was what Coldheart was, narrowed her eyes and then shrugged her own shoulders.

“Well so long as you're not in intense pain I guess aspirin is optional. Honestly, this whole 'holistic approach' sounds to me like a crock of fewmets.”

With that, Coldheart moved on to the other patient in the room, leaving Shale alone with the two other nurses. The three remained in silence for a good minute before the head nurse left, trailed by the violet one. As the door swung shut, Openheart spoke.

“I can't imagine what it must be like, being stuck in another universe you never dreamed existed.”

“You really can't. Although it's less the fact this is a different universe and more its inhabitants. You and the rest of the staff here seem downright normal compared to some of the things I've seen. Half chicken lizards! Horns and glowy magic! Wings, on a pony, honest... ly...”

The dramatic entrance was an art Princess Celestia had been perfecting for millenia. Countless formal situations and crises could be livened up or subdued by the unforseen addition of a resplendent alicorn. With the right mix of presence, timing and pizazz, coming onto the scene could be milked for great effect. Allies would take heart, enemies would quiver, those still on the fence could be swayed. The first impression wasn't everything, but the Princess knew it was a lot.

Fortunately, this understanding of how to manipulate emotions was complemented by a wise head on ancient shoulders, and as such the princess knew when not to emphasize her entrance as well. The tall equine entered the room just as Openheart finished speaking. Not a hoofstep was heard, and neither Shale nor the nurse noticed the monarch or her student, who was following quietly in Celestia's hoofsteps.

In fact, Shale continued to not notice the Princess until the tail end of her rant. Princess Luna or a similarly ranked being would have facehoofed at the irony of an alicorn entering the room at just the right time to catch a diatribe about horns and wings on ponies. Not being of similar rank to Princess Luna, both Nurse Openheart and her Eponan patient had their hooves full prostrating themselves instead.

Celestia regarded the medical pony with a practiced benevolence, and spoke.

“Arise, Openheart. You have done well, but I believe you have other patients to attend to?”

The purple pony looked up and smiled, and then excused herself rapidly.

Pastel curls ruffled in an unfelt breeze as the Princess turned to Shale. The Eponan had climbed out of the hospital bed and was down on all flanks, her muzzle depressed against the floor. That she had not blacked out was only evident by way of the convulsive trembling that evidenced fear more than epilepsy.

“You, on the other hand, are an enigma. Arise, Shale Hearth Coalmare. Why are you prostrated such? Unless your system of etiquette is vastly different in emphasis from our own a respectful nod or bow would suffice for a head of state that is not your own.”

Silence hung for a second, and then the reply came in the form of a tiny whisper.

“Indeed, were you but a head of state that is close to what I would have done, but proper respect for divinity asks for a bit more, Your Highness.”

Celestia's eyebrows soared in conjunction with Twilight's, although the unicorn seemed slightly less shocked than her mentor. The diarch's eyes narrowed as another possibility occurred to her.

“Are you familiar with others of our kind then?”

Shale raised her head at that. Her voice was less humbled but more hesitant as it broke the awkward silence.

“Others... You are not the Creatrix then?”

Princess Celestia's head quirked to the side, like a robin “listening” for something.

“Creatrix?”

“The Creatrix. Legend has it she was the one who forged our worlds from the void in the fires of chaos. It was she who created the Sunbirds and set them in the sky to guide the heavens, and the Moonbirds to balance their fury with gentleness. Traditional Arapalfrian and Surkholti iconography depicts her as an alabaster pony, bedecked with horns and wings, tall and graceful with a flowing scarlet mane.

Up until now, most theologians had thought of this imagery as just that, a piece of iconography, a metaphor for a being so basic and powerful its very nature was incomprehensible to mortal minds.”

Celestia laughed.

“Well, I am many things, and I have been called many names, but I have never been mistaken for a creator of worlds before. I can assure you, however, that I am not the being you describe. My responsibility lies solely with moving Equestria's sun and ensuring my little ponies get along. We shall await your recovery in earnest, Miss Hearth, and until then, we bid you good day.”

As Celestia left the hospital room, she reached out briefly with her magic, her golden aura tugging discreetly at Twilight's tail. The purple unicorn looked as though she were about to resume a conversation left unfinished from before the concussion had rendered her guest unconscious. There was nothing wrong with that, but the princess had something she needed to tell her student.

Twilight responded to the pull by shutting her mouth abruptly and following her mentor. Probably for the best, Shale was looking relieved and a bit sleepy. Wouldn't do to disturb the interdimensional guest's beauty sleep, although there was still so much to ask...

Shimmering yellow mana shut the door to the room occupied by Shale as Twilight looked at her princess. Twilight wondered at the white alicorn's ability to maintain a poker face. It was as though a mask had fallen away, and now Celestia seemed frazzled, as though a part of what Shale had said had rattled something deep in the sun-mover.

"Twilight Sparkle, this mission I am about to give you is probably the most important one you've received since defeating King Sombra. I had planned more tests for you, but Discord's Gate has caught everypony by surprise.

This is your mission: Ensure peace between Equestria and Epona. I have diplomats and social scientists working on analyzing your findings thus far, and once we establish formal contact with this alternate universe, they will take over. First, however, we must make contact without them attacking us on sight. Ensuring Shale Hearth's safe return is the key to that.

Remain nearby, learn everything you can, but don't put her on edge. Perhaps just as importantly, ensure there are no more incidents like that fiasco with the CIA. She is our best chance for peace with Epona. I'm trusting you with this. If you need anything for this mission, you have only to ask."

Twilight saluted, and the two ponies gave each other a fond look before Celestia turned and left. The Element of Magic remained silent and calm just long enough that she could be sure her mentor was out of hearing range.

“Alright Twilight, no need to panic. After all, this is no different than any other mission the princess has given you. Forging peace between dimensions is no biggie compared to taking on a dragon that was going to plunge Equestria into darkness, or redeeming Nightmare Moon.”

Twilight fought down the coming hyperventilation. Breathe in, breathe out. Let the pressure leave the body, then consider the solution.

After a minute's consideration, Twiley's eyes lit up, and she could almost hear the light bulb going ding. There was something she could do. Diplomacy wasn't her strong suit, but that wasn't what the princess was asking for either. What was needed here wasn't a glib speech, masterful manipulation or quick negotiation.

Instead of stateship, what this situation called for was friendship.

Comments

[Ravenscroft]

I personally dislike double-spaces after periods. You probably noticed that my writing flows just fine with one, it breaks up the phrases and flow with two when someone who reads quickly tries to read the fic. It wasn't bad in the other chapters, I just don't know what went wrong, but suddenly I'm tripping on double-spaces. Look at the line that begins "phase. Going out to" and see how absurdly huge that gap is? Spaces in words are like spaces in sidewalks: You need them to keep structural integrity, but if you make them too wide it makes it hard to walk along the sidewalk. "ding. There" at the end also seems unnecessarily huge due to formatting.

Yes, double-spacing after a full-stop is technically just as correct as single-spacing according to proper vernacular, but according to proper vernacular you cannot end a sentence on a preposition, a concept up with which I will not put.

Again, the telekinesis comes up. In the books, did the humans ever use their arms, or were their hands and arms so atrophied that an anti-psycher field would have them floored on the ground? If the humans did use tools manually, why aren't the ponies? If they didn't use tools manually, why are they shaped as though they should be?