Fate can be a fickle thing, or it can be wonderous. A human in a human equestria story; since they're so rare.
I'm willing to bet that a lot of Bronies would love to visit the land of Equestria; if only to see it. I sorta got that wish... instead I find myself in a human variant of it known as Arcania in the Krystal Kingdom. Not that I'm complaining of course, the day I got raptured over here was a College day anyway.
(My first foray into fan fiction and probably my only one, let me know what you think and how I can improve! Unsure about the rating, I'll leave it teen for now. I eventually plan to turn this into an Epic, so hopefully my storytelling skills will improve significantly before then. Also I use a lot of pictures in my story to offset my sucky descriptive skills, so props to the artists and what not!)
The first thing I saw the moment I opened my eyes was a rather clear image of a bluish-purple crystalline ceiling. Now the ceiling itself wasn’t the first thing that confused me, rather the fact that I COULD see it clearly to begin with. For those of you who don’t know, I had to wear glasses to compensate for my poor vision. The second thing that confused me was the fact that I woke up fully clothed in my breaking paradigms t-shirt and lucky brand jeans. Since I typically tend to sleep in just my undergarments, this situation kinda befuddled me (yes I sleep in the buff, don’t judge me!!).
Spotting a dresser with a mirror on it, I hopped out of the rather comfy bed I was situated on and walked closer to see my reflection. What I saw only added more to my growing sense of confusion and slight apprehension, staring back at me were the crimson eyes of a teenage boy who looked just like me (probably because he was). My first thought was ‘Oh God, I hope I haven’t turned into one of those queer sparkly vampire types’
The other thing I noticed was that I had fairly well-toned muscles leading from my arms into what I suspected was my chest and abdomen. It looked like a cross between a body builder and a runner’s build. Now don’t get me wrong, I always ate relatively healthy and exercised modestly but I never lifted enough in the gym to get anywhere near this kind of muscle mass. I mentally shrugged it off since I tend not to question blessings, strange as they are. ‘So this is what Peter Parker felt like his first day as Spider-man’ I amusingly thought.
I saw something rather familiar lying next to the dresser, so I stooped down to pick it up. Turns out it was the Swiss army backpack that I would have gone to College with today had I not woken up wherever the hell I was right now. Deciding that now was a good time to take inventory I unzipped the bag to find its contents containing my laptop, IPod touch, some of my clothes, what looked like a red wooden baton, and a myriad of other useful things. The most attention grabbing of these items was a pack of what looked like smoke grenades and flashbangs.
“Sweet” I remarked to myself, satisfied knowing I could make a quick escape Batman style if I ever needed to. There was also a card in one of the zippers with an inscription on it which I proceeded to pick up. As I looked at it, I decided to read it aloud to myself. “May these provisions aid you in your travels, for what you accomplish here will go down in history's annals”
‘What?’ I confusedly thought. As if on cue, I heard the only door in the room squeak open and what looked like a woman in her mid-thirties slowly enter the room. Upon noticing me she spoke in a gentle voice.
“Oh my, you’re finally awake”
“Indeed I am” I responded neutrally.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Given the circumstances, pretty good I guess” I answered modestly.
I used the ensuing and slightly awkward silence that followed to get a better look at my ‘host’. She had brownish-blond hair tied up in a curly coiffure that reminded me of the ancient Greeks with light blue eyes and was wearing an off white dress. She was of average height at around 5 feet and 5 inches. She also had tattoos of what looked like a ray of light shining through an orb of glass on the back of both her hands.
The time it took me to make these superficial observations had been no longer than a couple of seconds and the woman could clearly see that I was not going to be the one carrying the conversation so she decided to speak up.
“My name is Crystal Clear, may I know your name?” she asked of me.
Thinking quickly about the alias I would use in case I ever found myself in such a bizarre situation I replied.
“Zenith”
“Zenith? That’s an unusual name for a Valkyrian” she remarked.
“Valkyrian?” I asked with no small amount of puzzlement in my voice.
“Oh my, your arrival must have left you more discombobulated than I thought” She said with some worry in her tone as she furrowed her brow in thought.
“Yeah… I been meaning to ask, how did I get here exactly?” I said while pointing a finger to the ground.
“Perhaps we should have this discussion someplace with seats and a nice cup of tea” she proposed.
“Okay, got anything minty?” I politely requested.
“Let’s go down to the kitchen and find out shall we?” She responded with a small smile.
I motioned for her to lead the way and followed her down the crystalline hallway to the equally crystalline stairs which we promptly descended.
As we ventured toward Crystal Clear’s kitchen, my mind was a torrent of thoughts. Many of them less than positive, scenario after scenario ran its course through my addled brain. Pertinent questions were asked in rapid succession, and answers were sparse at best. I shook my head to clear most of them and focused on keeping a cool and level mind. I always believed fear to be an emotion of unwanted burden, why be afraid when you can be cautiously optimistic instead?
As we reached the bottom of the stairs to an opening leading to what looked like the kitchen, Crystal Clear motioned for me to have a seat at a small dining table to which I obliged before making off to brew tea for the both of us. I took that moment to take in my surrounding a little bit more; it looked a lot like your average kitchen, barring the crystalline nature that seemed to comprise the entire structure of the house. I noticed Crystal Clear returning with two steaming cups of what was probably tea in her hands.
“I couldn’t find anything with mint leaf extraction in it” she spoke in a slightly regretful voice, “So I made us both, Pearl Grey tea instead” She said appeasingly.
‘Pearl Grey? Never heard it called that before.’ I thought whimsically.
“That’s quite alright, I’ve never been too picky when it came to my choice of tea” I replied in a contented tone.
While we both sipped at our tea, I decided to ask the question that weighed on my mind the most.
“So can you explain to me the circumstances of my being here?” I inquired.
She thought for a moment before explaining.
“Yours is a most confusing ingress into our kingdom. I was strolling along the edges of our kingdom’s temperature acclimatization boundary when I witnessed the oddest phenomena, the surrounding light dimmed as if eclipsed before I saw a bright flash and heard a noise like a muted thunderclap. Curiosity surpassed my fear and I went to investigate, that was when I found you lying on the grass asleep with your belongings next to you. My first thought was that you were a stellar mage and you botched up a teleportation spell, no offense of course! So imagine my surprise after I brought you to my home and I discovered that you were Valkyrian instead.”
I took that moment to politely interrupt; “You called me that before, what is a Valkyrian?”
“You don’t know? Valkyrians are the inhabitants of Arcania that have the gift of flight.”
“Wouldn’t that require wings though?” I dubiously spoke, mentally filing away the name Arcania.
She motioned at me to look behind at my back, to which I obliged, what I saw made my eyes widen a little in disbelief. A pair of what looked like red semi opaque ethereal wings sprouted from my shoulder blades. ‘How did I not notice that earlier!?’ In all honesty they reminded me of Lilith’s Siren wings from Borderlands 2, except the feather shapes and overall structure were more pronounced. ‘So that’s what the odd sensation on my back was!’
The only words that came out of my mouth were, “Huh, well that’s certainly new…”
Crystal looked at me in confusion before speaking “Were you not a Valkyrian before?”
I shook my head and replied, “No… in fact I’m not even a native inhabitant of this Arcania you mentioned”
“Then from which land do you hail?” She inquired of me.
“America” I truthfully answered.
“America? I’ve never heard of such a kingdom” she remarked with confusion.
“It’s not a kingdom of any sort, it’s a Constitutional Republic with three branches of federal government with a division between federal and state government responsibilities” A year of advanced placement government in high school with a particularly finicky teacher had my lecture mode kicking in slightly.
“That sounds rather complicated” Crystal said with obfuscated look in her eyes.
“It is, and it’s even more complicated in practice” I said earnestly, “Though democracy does have its virtues” I wore a slight smirk on my face.
“I’ve never really thought about it” spoke Crystal, “Our Royal family has always lead us well enough that we never paid the idea of ruling ourselves any thought”
“Well anyways, that’s where I come from” I said, ‘I think I’m starting to figure out where I am’
“And did your people not have Valkyrians?” She asked.
“Can’t say we did, we travelled through the skies via airplane” I answered with a shrug.
“Airplane? Is that some form of airship?” She asked, cocking her head to the side.
“What? Like a dirigible?” I asked to which she nodded to me.
“Well no, think of a large metallic bird with jets attached to the wings that provide thrust” I inelegantly depicted.
“That sounds fascinating!” She spoke with an awed tone in her voice.
“I suppose it is, it’s certainly convenient for traveling long distances in a short amount of time” Describing it me realize how much I took the idea of commercial aviation for granted.
“Your home must be a wonderful place indeed to have such innovations” she spoke, lauding the modern amenities of my home.
“I guess, I paid it about as much thought as you’ve paid into democracy” I said with a dry tone in my voice.
“I can hardly believe I’ve never heard of such a land before” she spoke with slight skepticism, “Although I never studied maps enough to consider myself an expert on the lands beyond our own” she admitted abashedly.
At this point we had finished our tea which Crystal then collected and put away in the sink. She then walked back to the table and looked at me before speaking in a curious tone “So what do you think you’ll do now Zenith?”
“I’ve yet to reach a definitive conclusion on that matter” I answered while rolling my shoulders and standing up.
“Do you think you could accompany me while I go out into the market to acquire groceries?” she asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. I gave it a millisecond of thought, why not? I’ve got nothing else demanding my attention at the moment.
“I would be delighted to be your escort milady” I spoke in an exaggerated Shakespearean tone as I bowed with a flourish. She giggled and played along.
“I would be honored my good sir” she replied and curtsied.
As we exited Crystal’s home out onto the streets, I spied an all too familiar Citadel gleaming in the distance which only served to confirm the nagging suspicion I had in the back of my mind.
‘Eeyup, this looks like the human version of the Equestrian Crystal Empire’ I observed to myself.
“Zenith! Are you coming?” Crystal exclaimed in the distance, probably wondering why I was falling behind.
“Yeah let’s get going!” I spoke as I rushed to catch up to her, my running shoes pounding against the solid indigo avenue. I had to admit that I was rather excited; I’ve always wanted to see what this place would be like in person!
‘What extraordinary things await me in this new land I wonder?’
Chapter 2: A somewhat average day in the Krystal Kingdom
Having caught up with Crystal, we continued onwards to what I assumed would be the local market place along the most immaculate and shiny crystalline streets I had ever seen. Of course, they were the only crystal paved streets I've ever seen. We walked about town in an almost painfully slow pace, at least in my opinion. I tend to fast walk wherever I go and due to my above average height, I have a pretty long stride as well. Add in my usual mantra of ‘Walk with purpose’ and I always make good time whenever I walk somewhere, but I digress.
I used the tranquil lull to ask my companion a question, “Crystal, what are those tattoos on the back of your hands called?”
‘As if I don’t know’
She looked at them and then to me “They are called Mana marks, Zenith”
‘Oh, in that case I stand corrected’
“What do they represent?” I asked, despite knowing the answer full well.
“They are something every Arcanian obtains once they come of age, or more specifically once they realize what their special talent or calling in life is” she paused for a moment, “For instance, my Mana Mark represents my keen perception into the nature of those around me” she explained.
“I see… would that make me a bland hand then?” I asked in a humored tone as I showed her my spotless backhand. She laughed “Heavens no!” she exclaimed between chuckles, “Men don’t get their Mana Marks on their hands”
“Where do they get them then?” I curiously inquired.
“Your Mana Mark would be on your shoulder sides dear” she said as we drew closer to the marketplace.
I made a personal mental note to see if I had one of these Mana Marks later. I also noticed that I was garnering some poorly hidden stares from the locals wandering about the place. I was guessing it had something to do with me being a Valkyrian with visually distinguishable wings, which therefore made me a rarity (I mentally chuckled) compared to the general populace. Speaking of which, pretty much everybody I’ve seen so far seemed to look like normal humans; the rather exquisite array of hair colors and styles notwithstanding. I decided to ask Crystal about that.
“Hey Crystal?” She looked at me with the same cheery smile.
“What are the Arcanians without wings or the ability to cast magic called?”
“We are simply referred to as Agrarians” She replied.
“Agrarians?” She nodded to me.
“Mind telling me the etymology of that term?” I asked.
“Well… back in the times before Arcania was founded, our people were the most agriculturally gifted of the three clans due to our special connection to nature and all things that grow. In exchange for proper lighting and ideal weather conditions most conducive to growing crops, we made agreements with the skyborn and mage born clans to provide them with a good share of our harvests. Agreements that persist to this very day, although the royal sisters have taken up the role of raising and lowering the heavenly bodies” we finally reached the market right as she finished her little lecture.
“I can’t imagine that all Agrarians take up agronomic oriented duties” I spoke with a doubtful tone.
“Of course not! The name is simply a part of our heritage and therefore stayed the official designation of our clan” she explained.
“Anything else that differentiates Agrarians from the other two clans?” I asked as my final question.
“Yes… of the three, we Agrarians are the hardiest” she said with some pride in her voice.
“How so?” I asked with some intrigue.
“Generally our kind is physically the strongest and the most enduring of the three, capable of dealing with great adversity and hardship through steadfast determination and conviction” she finished as we approached one of the stands.
The marketplace itself was what you’d typically expect to see at a renaissance fair, medieval style tents with triangular flags billowing at their tips and small banners suspended on strings connecting them to other tents. The marketplace stands were set up with wooden counters at their entrances being manned by vendors selling all sorts of goods. I even spotted vendors selling the crystal berries and crystal corn on the cob from the show (why it would be called that when it looks like ordinary corn is beyond me).
However, to my slight disappointment we did not stop at any of those stands, instead we opted to visit the more practical stands selling vegetables, fruits, and even *mental gasp* meat! Something I noticed was that the market prices weren’t set (laissez-faire anyone?) and that bartering was the order of business, another thing I noticed was that Crystal had some commendable bargaining skills; understandable given her special talent, and was able to tell when someone was charging too much and even called them out on their bluffs when they claimed to have limited time offers or that they were the only vendor selling that particular product. Once a fair price was agreed upon, Crystal dispensed currency in the form of bits from a large pouch suspended at her side like some kind of medieval purse. All in all, we got a pretty good haul of groceries at a decent price in about an hour and a half of shopping and were heading back to Crystal’s while I carried the paper bags for her (apparently they don’t have plastic bags here).
"That was some pragmatic and efficient bartering you did back there, you’re a natural!” I praised Crystal to which she smiled and blushed slightly.
“Thank you Zenith, that’s very kind of you to say” she responded as we walked back to her home.
“What are the markets like back in your home?” Crystal decided to ask me.
“Well… for one there is no bargaining that has to be done” to which she looked at me in minor incomprehension.
“It’s true. In fact, the market prices are set almost uniformly throughout the nation. You simply pay the price on the tag, excluding any sales taxes or whatnot and that’s that” I finished explaining to her.
“The more you tell me about your homeland Zenith, the more fascinating it becomes to me” she said with a captivated tone.
“I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface Crystal” I looked at her with a smug expression, knowing full well just how incredible the world I originated from was.
As soon as I finished that thought though, it finally dawned on me that I was essentially in another universe and about as far away from home as I could possibly get. My cheerful expression sagged a little bit and I did my best to hide it from Crystal, thankfully she didn’t notice or if she did, realized that it would be best to not bring it up. It was about mid-afternoon by the time we reached Crystal’s house and for the most part I quelled any negative thoughts about home or how my parents were probably freaking out right now and… ‘Gah! I’m doing it again!’ We dropped off the groceries in the kitchen and Crystal went to work sorting them into either the pantry or an icebox for all the items that needed to be chilled. When she was finished, she decided to ask me something.
“Zenith?” I looked at her from my position at the kitchen table.
“Have you ever been to a jousting match?” to which I shook my head.
“Can’t say I have” I responded.
“Well I intend to change that, come with me!” she exclaimed as she grabbed my hand and led us out of the house once more.
After about ten minutes of dragging me about the kingdom, Crystal and I finally arrived at the jousting field. It was about a hundred feet in length and covered in dirt with a gem themed ‘big surprise’ wooden divider in the middle separating the tracks. There were only bleachers on one side of the field which were about eight tiers high and could probably hold a good eighty or so people. They were close to half capacity at that moment, plus a dozen or so bystanders watching from the sidelines. Crystal and I sat midway up the bleachers and spectated while the opposing knights readied their somewhat Romanesque looking armor and blunted spears before mounting their steeds to face off against another. Feeling a little bored, I leaned towards Crystal and spoke in a conspiratorial manner.
“Hey Crystal?”
“Yes Zenith?”
“Want to liven up the event and start a chant?” I grinned at her.
She considered me for a moment before nodding.
“Then follow my lead” I told her.
I stomped twice before clapping and repeating the pattern again which Crystal soon copied, the other bystanders looked curiously at us and some even joined in. I took that moment to sing one of my favorite rock anthems.
Buddy you're a boy make a big noise Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day You got mud on yo' face You big disgrace Kickin' your can all over the place
We will we will rock you! We will we will rock you! (At this point the majority of the crowd has joined in)
Buddy you're a young man hard man Shoutin' in the street gonna take on the world some day You got blood on yo' face You big disgrace Wavin' your banner all over the place
We will we will rock you! “Sing it!” I shouted to which the crowd obliged. We will we will rock you!
Buddy you're an old man poor man Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day You got mud on your face You big disgrace Somebody better put you back in your place
We will we will rock you! We will we will rock you! We will we will rock you! We will we will rock you!
At this point our little chant had the whole crowd pumped up and even brought in some more people who wanted to see what the hubbub was all about. The knights looked thoroughly amused by our display and put on a great show for their part, knocking each other off their horses using their blunted lances. People were blowing profusely on their crystal flugelhorns (still better than those damn vuvuzelas!) and cheering as the knights jousted against each other. And I was actually enjoying myself too, which I found odd since I rarely attended sporting events in the first place. As we left the jousting field, Crystal asked me about the chant I started, to which I replied “I saw it in a movie once” and continued walking; ignoring her confused look.
By the time we returned to Crystal’s, it was late evening and I had mostly forgotten about my earlier homesick problems ‘I’ll worry about that later’ and filed it away on my handy mental to do list. Crystal was in the kitchen setting it up to make supper when I decided to join in. I offered to prepare tonight’s dinner which surprised Crystal more than it should have in my honest opinion.
“You can cook Zenith?” She asked in a puzzled tone.
“Uhm.. yeah I know how to prepare a good number of meals” I responded.
“I just find that so odd. Since most Valkyrian males; especially men of your age don’t usually cook for themselves” She told me.
I scoffed slightly “Crystal, you’ve forgotten that I wasn’t a Valkyrian before arriving here” to which she adopted a look of remembrance on her face.
“You should also know the belief that men of any kind cannot cook for themselves is a dirty stereotype where I come from” I chided her with a smirk, to which she had the good grace to look a little embarrassed.
“Besides, I was only going to make a chicken salad. Nothing terribly complicated” I said as I shrugged and walked into the kitchen to get chopping.
Ten minutes of preparation later and we were chomping down happily on our chicken salads. I was very pleased to discover that they actually had spicy ranch sauce in Arcania which I drenched my salad with heavily while Crystal settled for balsamic vinaigrette on her salad. Both of us spent most of the meal making the usual dinnertime small talk. Crystal asking for more tidbits about home which I answered to the best of my ability while also enjoying my food. We finished our meals and I put the dishes in the sink and washed them, despite Crystal’s insistence that I was her guest and therefore should let her do them. She capitulated when I told that it was tradition where I come from for the guests to pull their own weight while staying under the roof of another. Once I was finished, I asked Crystal if she wanted to see what I was talking about earlier when I said movie to which she agreed. I ran upstairs to the guest bedroom to grab my laptop out my backpack and returned to Crystal who was sitting on the guest couch in the living room.
“What is that?” She said pointing to the object in my possession.
“This” I tapped the cover “Is my laptop computer”
She stared in awe as I flipped it open and turned it on, the screen lighting up and the accompanying welcome chime greeting us. Crystal visibly flinched at the unexpected noise which caused me to chuckle, ‘It’s like I’m in Amish country’
“What does this… laptop do?” She enquired, her eyes wide with wonder.
“A lot of things, but right now it’s going to be tonight’s entertainment” I said with a slight grin on my face, as I scrolled over to my iTunes movie list and selected ‘A Knight’s Tale’.
For the next two hours, Crystal was riveted as she watched William’s struggle against the unscrupulous Adhemar for the hand of Jocelyn and the jousting tournament championship. When our little movie session was over, she asked more about the movie itself and what kind of magic must have powered my device to be able to see into the lives of other people in such a manner. I shook my head and told her that it was merely the magic of cinematic movie making. She seemed skeptical as always but didn’t question me further. (Now for those of you who are thinking, dinner and a movie? What’s your angle? I am reminding you that I am most definitely NOT flirting with a woman who’s probably more than ten years my senior)
It was getting pretty late so Crystal and I decided to retire for the night, I used that moment before we entered our separate rooms to thank her for looking after me while I was incapacitated. She responded by hugging me (much to my awkward discomfort) and said she would have done it for anybody who needed help before heading into her room and leaving me standing there in the hall with a perplexed look on my face. I shrugged to myself before entering my room and collapsing into my comfy bed, out like a light.
Chapter 3: Learning to fly… or how to hug the ground for dummies
I woke early the next morning feeling quite refreshed. I just about jumped out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom to take care of the call of nature and to keep up my standard of oral hygiene. I noted with some interest that these people didn’t seem to use toothbrushes since I couldn’t find any; instead I only found a bottle of what looked like purple colored mouthwash. I got the impression from the shiny tooth logo on the front. Shrugging to myself, I popped the lid and took a swig; only to find out that this particular mouthwash had three times the burn of Listerine. Since the spiciest experience I ever had was eating three habanero chili peppers in one sitting and not chickening out to grab the milk (true story, I even remember the burning feeling going straight to my ears), I fought through the burn before gargling and spitting out the liquid into the sink. While the mouthwash itself didn’t have any flavor, it left my mouth with an odd yet not unwelcome lavender flavored aftertaste and an immaculate freshness like no other.
I also took this opportunity to slowly lift the sleeves of my T-shirt to find…that my shoulders were the same as they were the day I was born, silky smooth and free of any mark. Now I’m sure a lot of guys in my position would be disappointed to find out they did not possess a mana mark. However, I was decidedly neutral about it since I never cared much for having pictorial designs on my skin to begin with. Shrugging to myself, I finished up in the bathroom and left to seek out my hostess.
I found Crystal downstairs in the kitchen already eating a bowl of oatmeal with a generous amount of cinnamon sprinkled on top. She acknowledged my presence with a nod (since her mouth was full) and I took a seat across from her at the round dining table. Once she finished her breakfast, she decided to speak up.
“Good morning Zenith”
“It certainly is a cheery looking morning” I agreed, appreciating the warm glow the Sun cast through the windows that were carved into the solid architecture.
“How did you sleep?” she enquired.
“Decently” I answered curtly.
Before the conversation delved further into that redundant morning talk I despised, I decided to ask Crystal about something that was on my mind since I woke up.
“Crystal?” I asked looking her in the eyes.
“Yes?” She answered after she swallowed the contents in her mouth.
“Does anyone else in the kingdom know about my… unique arrival?” I gingerly asked.
She thought for a moment before placing her spoon on the table and responding.
“I don’t believe so; I was the only person around when I witnessed the event of your coming” she paused before continuing.
“The only person in the kingdom with enough magical affinity to sense the undoubtedly immense energies comprising your teleport into our land would be our Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, or as she insists to be called… Cadence. And she would have sent guards immediately if she sensed you as a threat.” She said in a somewhat mellow tone at the end.
“But” She continued, “I do not regret bringing you into my home in the slightest, you have been nothing but an absolute gentleman since I’ve gotten to know you” She smiled at me as she spoke but held a slightly wistful expression, one which I filed away in a metal folder for inspection later.
“Still” I said, “It must have taken a lot of faith and trust to bring a possibly dangerous individual into your household, and I am most grateful for your kindness” I spoke in my most appreciative tone and placed a hand on my chest and bowed my head to show my thankfulness. A bit dramatic, but I can be somewhat theatrical when given the proper reason to be.
“As I said before Zenith, I would have done it for anybody who needed it” She said while wearing the same cheery expression and giggling at my exaggerated display.
“On another note” I changed the touchy subject, “Is there a public library here?” I asked despite knowing the answer; didn’t want to give away anything after all.
She nodded, “M’hmm, but you’ll need a library card to check out any books” She walked over to one of her crystal counters and opened a drawer that was carved into it and pulled out a card and a paper sheet. She then handed it to me along with an added written list before speaking.
“I needed to check out some books myself but since it’s on your itinerary, could you pick them up for me?” I nodded in affirmation.
“Wonderful! You can use my card to check out some books for yourself if you want, just tell Agatha I sent you” She instructed.
“Is Agatha the librarian?” I asked, to which she nodded.
After asking Crystal for directions to the library (turns out it was on the same street, go figure) I saw a few people from yesterday who recognized me from the jousting match and waved at me which I did my best to return. I made my way up the avenue to the library building, paying special mind to the crystal griffin statues next to the door ‘I wonder if the griffins here are still chimeras’ Pushing the doors open I was treated to this sight.
‘Wow… you can practically hear the glimmer coming off those shiny bookcases’ I wryly thought. The library itself was only two floors in height but had another level below. There were only a paltry amount of people perusing the wide array of books in the library from what I could see. Walking inside I was almost immediately greeted by whom I assumed to be the librarian standing to my right. She looked to be in her late sixties and had very pale, almost white shades of magenta in her hair which was arranged in a bulbous shape which seemed to be a common hairstyle among the women here. On her hands was a mana mark of an unfurled parchment scroll. She was also wearing those god awful circular eyeglasses that you’d associate with old people too.
“Welcome to the Krystal Kingdom public library, how may I help you?” She said in a slight drone that suggested that she recited this greeting thousands of times before and it was getting as old as her.
“Yes, I’m here on behalf of Crystal Clear to check out some books for her” I looked down at the list she gave me before showing it to the librarian.
“Do you think you can point me in the direction of these specific titles please?” I politely enquired.
She read the list for a moment before pointing to the west wing of the library.
“You can find the crystal cookbooks in the culinary arts section and the fashion catalogs a few rows to the right of them” She directed for me with her hands.
“Also, do you have any all-encompassing books on flight techniques and the like?” I further asked her.
She thought for a moment before nodding her head, “Yes I believe so; it should be on the second floor in the aeronautics section”
“Cool, thanks for the help” I spoke to which she nodded and returned to her desk.
Considering the copious collection of codices, it took me a little longer to find Crystal’s books than I would have liked. After compiling the books; a good three in total, I made my way upstairs to the aeronautics section. There were relatively few books here regarding flight techniques that I could find. It made sense considering that the population of the kingdom consisted almost solely of agrarians with the exception of their ruling prince and princess. However, I managed to find one book that matched my requirements. It was titled ‘How to Soar for Skyborn’ and had golden metallic wings on the front and back cover that looked a lot like this.
I sardonically noted that it was about the same thickness as my old advanced placement biology book back in high school. Opening it up changed my opinion of it, if only slightly. The font wasn’t nearly as microscopic and had a great deal more pictures and diagrams of various flight techniques, styles, and terminology. I gathered all the books and headed downstairs to check them out. I pulled out the card that Crystal gave me from my left pocket and handed it and the books over to Agatha. I heard her mumble something that sounded like ‘confounded newfangled identification credentials’ while she scrutinized it. If I was to hazard a guess, she probably thought that the laminated library identification cards were too new fashioned for her old fashioned tastes. She then asked me a question after marking her records of the books being taken out of the library.
“You said you were checking out these books for Crystal Clear yes?”
“Indeed I am” I responded.
“What is your relationship with her?” She asked. I was expecting this question sooner or later so I thought about the answer ahead of time.
“She’s acting as my caretaker during my stay in your delightful little city” I spoke earnestly.
“Make sure to be on your best behavior young man, Crystal is one of those I consider very dear to me” She said protectively.
“Of course! I always do my best to be courteous to others, especially if they’re the ones who are hosting me” I said with utmost honesty.
She looked at me with a rather scrutinizing gaze, as if scanning me for any trace of deceit. Finding none, she nodded to me and spoke.
“Good, Crystal can be quite sensitive and I try my best to look out for her when I can”
“Don’t know why she needs supervision, she seems like she’s capable of looking after herself just fine” I said with a doubtful tone.
“You’d be surprised youngster” she said looking back down to her paperwork.
I shook my head in confusion before grabbing the books and making my way to the exit.
Heading back to Crystal’s I couldn’t help but reflect on what the librarian told me, what about Crystal could make her sound so susceptible as Agatha described? Did something happen in her past to cause emotional vulnerability? I decided to keep these questions to myself considering that I’m not the prying type. Although I did decide to be extra careful around her as a precaution. I knocked on the door to her house and waited for a moment before she opened up.
“Oh it’s you Zenith, back already?” she said wearing the same cordial smile.
“Yeah, you make it sound as if I was quick as a wink, I couldn’t have been less than twenty minutes” I smirked in amusement; I always did get my errands done sooner than most people expected.
“To take that short of a time to find my books for me would be considered efficient to me” she said in an impressed tone.
“Well anyway, here are your books” I handed her the three cooking/fashion related books while keeping mine in the crook of my arm, which it seemed she took notice of.
“So what book did you decide to check out?” she asked me curiously.
“Oh, just this book on Skyborn flight techniques and aerial history” I spoke casually before whipping it out. “Look! It even has wings on the cover, pretty classy right?” I showed her the metal wing adorned cover and wagged my eyebrows making her chortle at my antiques before looking it over.
“Oh my, that is a most eye catching cover” she looked at the book in wonder.
“But what do you need it for?” She asked and tilted her head at me.
“Well… since I don’t exactly know how to use these” I gestured with my head to my empyrean wings, “I thought it most practical to find some sort of instruction manual regarding their usage, fortunately for me I found this in the upper floor of the library” I paused, “Although I can’t help but wonder what a city consisting mainly of Agrarians would do with such a book to begin with, other than read it”
Crystal must have thought the same before seeing an inscription on the lower portion of the book cover. She pointed this out to me and I took a look, turns out that this book was relatively new and was donated from someplace in the grand city of Concordia.
“What’s Concordia?” I asked Crystal.
“That’s the capital city of Arcania” She told me.
‘Must be this world’s version of Canterlot, which is strange because I half expected it to be called Camelot, guess some things are entirely original here’ I pondered about my subverted conjectures.
“Neat” I briefly vocalized, “Well I’m gonna go find someplace quiet and secluded to read this and see if I can’t get myself airborne, I suspect that I’ll be out for a while” I told Crystal to which she nodded in understanding.
“Be careful Zenith” she spoke in a conspicuously mother like tone.
“Don’t worry; I have to test out my new ethereal appendages sometime. Might as well undertake it here while the light and wind conditions are good” I reassured her before bidding my farewell and turning to make my way to the grassy outskirts of the city.
I found myself a nice grassy knoll next to an open field after five minutes of my brisk walking speed. It really was a lovely day, the sun was shining, wind conditions were only slightly breezy, and I was pretty much ecstatic about the possibility of flying under my own power. I felt as if I could just leap into the air right now, but more realistic thoughts prevailed and I sat myself down to begin reading from my big book of flying.
Starting from the table of contents, I immersed myself in the rich world of Skyborn heritage. Before getting down to the basics of aerial arts itself, the book covered the history of the Valkyrian people, from their proud and organized militaristic origins and their dealings with the Gryphon people; who I found out were also human ‘what was with the library statues then?’, their ability of weather manipulation which made them the stewards of climate conditions during the divided clan times (a continued tradition to the current day it added), and the role Commander Hurricane and his Attaché Private Pansy had in the founding of Arcania along with the other two clan’s leaders and their respective advisers.
Moving on from the historical section of the book, I browsed the section on wing articulation and pre-flight stretches; I noticed a little footnote at the end that spoke of how to dispel and summon the wings at will. ‘I can do that!? Sweet…’ I decided to read more into that later and stood up to begin getting better acquainted with my wings. Now, the sensation of wings on my back was similar to what I believe having ghost limbs would feel like (though my wings were essentially just that).
To put it into context, the closest thing it felt like was having two legs attached to your shoulder blades by the hip joints. Given the structural similarities between the two I guess it made some sense… or about as much sense as having ethereal wings sticking out of your back would make in the first place. Moving on, I gave my new-found wings a few experimental test flaps to get used to the motions; I spent about five minutes flapping them lightly in different angles before slowly putting more effort into them.
Much to my instant chagrin, I discovered that even a modest flap would ascend me several feet off the ground, causing me to lose focus and land flat on my ass, thankfully the grass managed to soften my landing. ‘At least it doesn’t take much effort to get airborne’ I sarcastically inferred. Getting up and brushing off loose blades of grass and ignoring the annoying wet green stains on my jeans I tried again; this time knowing how much effort to put into flapping to get me off the ground. I soon found myself hovering off the ground; taking about a flap per second to stay suspended in the same spot. Mentally high fiving myself for my slow but sure progress, I tried to orient myself parallel to the ground to move myself forward and optimize my aerodynamic profile. This part is what gave me the most issues, every time I leaned forward a disorienting feeling of having my lower organs in my throat (kinda like what you’d feel during a rollercoaster drop) would cause me to lose focus and fall flat on my face into the grass flavored dirt. To my great displeasure and mounting frustration this process repeated several times, before I finally managed to break the cycle and get myself flying through the air.
All of my previous irritation just… melted away as I experienced the wonder of flight. You know all the joy and thrills you would get from riding Tatsu at Magic Mountain? (If not, look up the front row cams on youtube). It was a lot like that, only magnified multiple times and I had full control of where I was going. I had direction over my roll, pitch, and even a little bit of yaw despite lacking any sort of tail rudders. I may have let out a few whoops and hollers here and there as I flew above the fields. It was quite simply, an exhilarating feeling; I felt as if the whole world was at my fingertips. It gave me a sense of complete and utter freedom.
After an hour or so of blissfully soaring through the skies around the grassy field, I decided to satiate another curiosity I’ve had since my arrival. Spotting some clouds not too far off from where I was, I swooped down to them and slowed myself using my wings as airbrakes as I reoriented perpendicular to the ground. ‘Well, here goes nothing’ I thought as I ceased flapping my wings, slowly easing myself onto the white puffball that was a cloud. I felt the cloud sink slightly before becoming firm beneath my feet; I then proceeded to sit down. ‘Wow… this is comfy’ I thought. One way to describe it was like sitting down on an extra padded sleep number mattress set on extra plush that was also cool to the touch. I noticed that the clouds here were still as wispy as the ones back home, though a good deal more compacted.
On a whim, I took a handful of cloud (it felt like moist cotton candy) and stemming from that thought, took a bite. Unsurprisingly, it tasted like the cold water vapor of dry ice; causing an irritating parched feeling in the back of my throat. It was at that moment that I felt as if someone was watching me with ample bemusement, but I simply dismissed it as mild paranoia that my whacky antics were being observed. Deciding to get back to my book, I stood up and walked to the edge of the cloud ‘Well this is a gutsy move for my first day of flight’ and swan dived off it. I used my wings to glide back down to the field where I left my book and landed. “Well that’s one way to get your heart pumping” I dryly remarked to myself; my heart feeling like it was beating a thousand times a minute. ‘I gotta do that more often! Always wanted to skydive’ I openly chuckled as I walked back to my book.
Picking it up, I opened back up to the part regarding the summoning and dispelling of wings. From what the book told me the manifestation of wings was apparent by default and a subconscious process, but could be consciously dismissed with relative ease; not unlike the clenching of one’s hand into a fist. I focused on reigning in my wings based on the book’s advice and felt a sensation flowing into my back. Opening my eyes, I looked behind me to see that I successfully dismissed my wings. Looking back at the book on how to resummon them, it told me to focus on the intrinsic need to feel the joy and freedom that only flight could bring. Thinking back to my earlier breath taking experience and the absolute jubilancy it brought me, I felt my wings return and flare open in a display that I found somewhat epic. I took note of the fact that my wingspan was only slightly longer than my arm span. Wondering if I could touch them, I ran a hand through; quite literally through them, and only felt a tingly sensation in response. I postulated that my intangible wings still had sensation in them, but weren’t solid themselves. Giving myself a nod, I concluded that my afternoon flight practice session was a resounding success and resolved to return to Crystal.
Getting back, she almost immediately noticed the scuffs and dirtied clothes that I bore from my early failed attempts to get airborne and expressed a great deal of concern over them. I told her that some nicks and scratches were a small price to pay to learn how to fly, which I then jovially informed her that I did. She seemed happy for me but fussed over my soiled clothes, telling me that she’d have to launder them herself. I told her how much I’d appreciate that and asked her if I could use her shower.
“It’s upstairs in the master bathroom, although the only hygiene products available might be too feminine for your tastes” she said to me.
“It’s fine” I told her “I can swallow my masculine pride for the rest of the day and smell girly if it means cleanliness” I sighed and sagged my shoulders in a fake display of grief.
She merely laughed lightheartedly at my melodramatic demonstration “You are a strange one Zenith” she remarked at my unusualness.
“Well… they say pride goes before the fall, and I’ve taken my fair share of spills for the day” I said with a small and tired smile before heading upstairs to the shower.
After my refreshing albeit feminine scented cleansing, I discarded my dirty clothes in the hamper and headed to my room to rifle through my belongings to find new clothes. Donning my playboy penguin t-shirt and new pair of jeans, I continued sorting through my possessions. Coming across that intriguing red baton again, I closely scrutinized it to find a thin almost imperceptible seam in the wood on one end within a black stripe.
Pulling at what I assumed to be the handle, I unsheathed a blade that I instantly recognized as a Tantō from playing Far Cry 3. The blade was about eight and a half inches long and didn’t seem to have the curve that you’d associate with most Japanese blades. Judging from how wickedly sharp the edge was, I don’t think it needed one; this thing could probably split hairs down the middle with a minimum amount of effort. I sheathed the blade and was about to put it back in the backpack before I noticed a peculiar symbol mark which didn’t look so much engraved as projected onto the pommel; it looked very much like this.
It may have been my imagination but the more I looked at it, the more it seemed like it glowed. Shaking my head to distract myself from the symbol, I placed the Tantō among the rest of my belongings and headed downstairs to have supper with Crystal. We talked about trivial things and how my flight session went, as well as the new recipes she learned from the cookbook that I checked out for her earlier. I helped her with the dishes before saying goodnight and heading back to my room to read more into the flight book. I read for a few hours before I felt my eyelids grow heavy and succumbed to the allure of sleep.
I woke up the next morning to find a note on my door written by Crystal. It explained to me that she would be out the rest of the day spending time with her sewing circle of friends and that I was to help myself to whatever was in the pantry downstairs, it also informed me that my clothes were washed and were drying on the clothes line. After taking care of morning business in the bathroom, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to scrounge up something for some breakfast.
To my grand amusement, I happened across a box of cereal that was entitled Arcani-O’s in the pantry. Chortling to myself, I grabbed a carton of chilled fresh milk from the ice chest and sat down for my morning meal. The cereal itself was alright though I wouldn’t exactly describe the taste as magical, closer to chewy fruit loops really. Despite my minor disappointment at the bland taste of breakfast I was still in high spirits for many reasons. I had read through most of the significant knowledge the flight book offered that I could apply to my own usage, and today was another chance for me to fly! I almost broke into a full blown smile I was so stoked, something that rarely ever happens given my usual stoic disposition.
I grabbed the book upstairs and after a moment’s consideration, I reached into my backpack and equipped my Tantō between my rear belt loops ‘Never know when I might need some protection’ I reasoned. Running downstairs I all but vaulted out the door on my way to the library.The librarian Agatha wore a slightly shocked expression as I pretty much barged through the doors in my haste. Handing the book to her I spoke.
“Remember me? Just returning this book I checked out from yesterday”
She kept the baffled look on her face before speaking.
“Already? Was there something wrong with it?” She asked to which I shook my head.
“Not at all! In fact, it was just the right book for me. I learned a great deal about improving my flight technique from it!” I responded cheerfully.
“Well… I wasn’t expecting it back so soon.” She placed the book on a cart and marked a return books list.
“I bet you didn’t expect me to be a speed reader either” I grinned at her, to which she looked vaguely amused before speaking.
“How is Crystal faring today?”
“Don’t know. She left a note for me saying that she was hanging out with her sewing circle for most of the day” I responded with a shrug.
Agatha nodded her head in understanding “Ah yes that, I’m joining them myself after I close the library” She said as she shuffled more of her paperwork. Given the lull in conversation, I decided to satiate my curiosity.
“Hey Agatha? Whats with the Griffin statues next the entrance?” I asked.
“What about them?” She looked up at me and quirked a brow.
“Well… the actual gryphons are people like us right?” To which she nodded.
“Correct, although as a people they’re a fair deal more prideful and sometimes arrogant compared to others” She explained in a lecturer’s tone.
“So why are there statues of actual Griffins up front?” I raised my brow in befuddlement.
She put two and two together before laughing in a way that only old people do when youngsters ask them what they consider to be a silly question. When she finally stopped with her mirth she explained.
“I see what you’re asking; the Gryphon people call themselves that because they aspire to be like the Griffins of myth. They wish to be proud, strong, and aggressive in their pursuit of prestige and recognition.”
“Oh… I see” I said nodding in understanding, my curiosity having been satiated. ‘So Griffins are still mythological here, how very ironic’ I shrewdly reflected.
“I find it odd for a Valkyrian not to know this” Agatha said incredulously.
“Yes, well let’s just say I lived a sheltered life and leave it at that” I said turning away. “Thanks for the help!” I walked out the doors and past the aforementioned statues.
Since I hadn’t really planned anything else for today, I decided to simply stroll around the city. Although city may be too generous a term, to be honest it couldn’t have been any longer than a half mile in diameter. So I suppose town would be more accurate in terms of size and population. I didn’t see a census posted anywhere but based on my reckoning of the average amount of people I’ve seen clustered per unit area of land, I’d say maybe a few thousand people inhabited the fair kingdom; give or take a few hundred. I don’t study population density in detail so I might not be exactly precise, but this was my best educated guess.
Moving past my mental ponderings, I took the time to appreciate the beauty of the day. The sun was shining brightly as always; its rays causing the surrounding crystalline architecture to glisten in its light, though it was a tad bit overcast near the city outskirts. People were milling about with smiles on their faces as if they didn’t have a worry or care in the world, except for the ones who were actually going about their business; they adopted a look of determination. ‘Gotta put those bits in the bank somehow’ I mentally chuckled. I continued my little trek down the gem-lined pathways leading away from the Crystal Citadel when I noticed a street vender on the side waving me down.
Having nothing else to do, I impassively approached him. He was a bit on the short and pudgy side and wearing the kind of apron that you’d see hot dog vendors in New York put on. Because he was wearing a tank top beneath that I was able to discern his mana mark; which was a sprig of wheat alongside a loaf of bread. He had multi-tone hair colors (something quite prevalent among the Kingdom’s inhabitants I’ve noted) of browns and lighter browns that were befitting of the bread he sold.He looked me up and down as if sizing me up before speaking in a coarse voice matching the aliments he sold even more so.
“Hey kid, you wanna make a few bits?” He asked, finding whatever he saw to be adequate for a job.
“That’s depends” I cautiously answered “What will I be doing to earn them?”
“You may not have noticed, but the excessive cloud cover is and has been shrouding my wheat fields for the past few weeks” He spoke while motioning upwards with his eyes before continuing “And since our kingdom’s Princess hasn’t seen fit to bring in a weather team yet to tend to our fields, my crops growth is more stunted than usual. Now seeing a Valkyrian wandering the streets looking like he has nothing but time on his hands is something of a welcome relief for me. Do you think you can make use of those wings your people were gifted with? I’ll make it worth your while.” He grinned hopefully at me.
“Uhm… sure, lead on I guess” I said in an uncertain tone, to which he nodded and smiled before disrobing his apron and placing a placard saying ‘Sorry, we’re temporarily closed!’ on the top of his bread cart. He motioned for me to follow him and we walked towards the enshrouded farmland outskirts of the Kingdom.
I was feeling quite glad I read up on the weather manipulation section of the flight book. It wasn’t all that complicated a subject really, moving a cloud was simply a matter of pushing or pulling them in the direction you wanted them to go. Dissipating them was a matter of striking them with the intention of breaking them apart; the reason it worked like that was obvious, otherwise if you were to just land roughly on a cloud it would dismantle itself and you’d be up shit creek without a paddle (pardon the expression). Rainclouds were similar, although they could discharge lightning if you struck them with that intention in mind (something I couldn’t wait to try once I got the chance). Wingpower was tied to physical fitness, the more in shape you were, the more wingpower you could pump out. Working in conjunction with other Valkyrians can result in vortexes that could demolish large cloud banks or lift quantities of water up to the floating city of Stratopolis (this world’s version of Cloudsdale I assumed) for the production of rainclouds and other water intensive weather processes.
Because this frigid region of Arcania has an overabundance of water trapped in snow and ice, evaporation by the sun actually causes rainclouds to occasionally form here. Though it’s more like freezing rain and sleet if it does not make rainfall over the Kingdom where the air is drastically warmer. Wondering why there was no weather team in the Kingdom I turned to my companion and asked him.
“So why isn’t there a weather team here?” to which he shrugged and said.
“Don’t know the specifics; our request for a weather team probably got mired down in paperwork” We arrived at what I assumed was his wheat fields.
“I’m Thin Wheat by the way” He extended his hand which I shook.
“Call me Zenith” I responded, resisting a chuckle at his ironic name, “So how do you want me to handle this?” I motioned at the field.
“I take it you haven’t done weather work before?” He asked to which I just shook my head “Didn’t think so, I was guessing you more a fashion related type” He assumed.
This caused me to raise my brow in confusion, “What makes you say that?”
He pointed to my shirt “Designer shirts aren’t exactly common here, especially ones like… that” He was probably referring to the swanky looking playboy penguin chilling like a boss on my chest.
I simply shrugged my shoulders, “Maybe I just like wearing non- sequitur designer shirts, doesn’t make me some prissy fashionista by default” For some reason a shudder traveled up my spine, as if I insulted someone far away and they were glaring in my direction.
“Fair enough” He dropped the subject, “Anyway, I simply need you to disperse the clouds that have been hanging over my fields for me”
“And what do I receive in turn?” I asked in a businesslike manner.
He scanned the skies over his fields and mentally appraised the value of clearing them of clouds. When he was done he looked at me and spoke.
“Well…since you’re the only Valkyrian in town and I need my crops growth as unimpeded as possible till the actual weather teams arrive, how about seventy bits?”
Now, I haven’t exactly adjusted the value of bits to dollars in my mind yet. But based on what I saw in the marketplace with Crystal, a trio a tomatoes only costs on average a couple of golden bits (one bit if you’re as well versed in reverse psychology as Pinkie Pie or Bugs Bunny) I’ve seen silver bits as well, although I don’t know if they’re of lesser value or a different value altogether. So seventy bits seemed like a fair deal to me.
“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a sunlit field to look forward to” I told him before giving myself a running start and leaping into the air to clear some clouds. ‘Time to put that book’s knowledge to the test’ I thought as I approached the edge of the cloud bank overshadowing Sweet Bread’s fields. Pulling back a fist, I slammed it into the nearest cloud. The effect was instantaneous as the cloud busted into puffs of smaller cloud that vanished as they dissolved. Smirking to myself, I charged on ahead into the cloud bank, punching and kicking clouds as I went along. I moved up and down the cloud bank in a fashion akin to a lawnmower as I cleared the sky over the wheat fields. It took about twenty minutes for me to clear the majority of the clouds before landing on the last one to take a quick breather. Looking over the edge, this sight greeted me.
I humorously noted that the outline of the Kingdom resembled a snowflake, and that a small river flowed through the fields at a Four’O clock position relative to the front of the citadel. ‘Probably water runoff from the surrounding mountains’ I thought. I saw a sports stadium located just behind the citadel, where they hosted their athletic events; probably made for a spectacular ice skating rink too I imagine. I took special interest in how much I could see and in such detail, almost like I was looking at it with binoculars. I then recalled a section in the flight book mentioning how Valkyrians had more enhanced visual and auditory senses compared to the other two clans, probably for navigational and communication reasons while in the air I wager. We also had a much higher natural tolerance to the cold due to how much time we spend in the gelid air at higher altitudes. ‘Look at me! I’m already referring to myself as one of them!’ I scoffed at the ridiculous thought. No way am I conforming now of all times, not me.
Feeling recuperated enough; I stood up on the cloud before stomping on it with the intention of bursting it. Acting quickly, I oriented myself facing downwards before pulling out of my skydive using my wings and landing on the ground. ‘God that never gets old’ I blissfully thought as I walked towards Sweet Bread. Lazy bastard was sitting on a lawn chair all that time; he looked up at me before nodding in approval.
“Gotta say, watching you work was more entertaining than I thought it’d be” He put on a smarmy grin.
“Glad I was such a spectacle” I sarcastically replied before looking at him expectantly and speaking. “Our agreement?” To which he reached under his chair and tossed me a bag full of coins that landed with a 'clink!' in my right palm. Peeking inside the bag revealed to me its golden contents of nickel sized coins. After counting up the bits and noting that they were all golden I decided to ask him a question.
“Could you tell me what the difference between gold and silver bits is?” I inquired, since I saw silver bits being exchanged at the marketplace when I was with Crystal.
“I think the silver bits are of the coinage of Stratopolis, they’re recognized as equal in value to golden bits. Though I think the native Valkyrians living there prefer to use the silver bits. Shouldn’t you know this?” He looked at me with slight suspicion.
“I’ve never been to Stratopolis, born and raised on the ground” I truthfully replied to which he hummed thoughtfully before shrugging in dismissal.
“Well anyways, pleasure doing business with you” I said as I turned and walked away.
“Likewise, I’ll be sure to refer you to my colleagues if they need their skies tended to!” He shouted as I made my way towards the center of the kingdom.
I tossed my newly acquired bag of bits up and down in my hand as I made my way through town. Waving back at all the friendly people who waved to me and offered amicable smiles, I idly wondered why the people here were so gosh darned happy; then I remembered that I was in the Krystal Kingdom, where so long as love and harmony pervade, it will charge the very air with its harmonious influence. I might sound like I was waxing poetic, but that really seemed to be the case here. I was silently glad that I seemed to be immune to the Kingdom’s detestable charm, if I was to be happy it was going to be on my own terms. I took a gander at the many stalls here and there offering their various goods to pass some time, I even stopped at one of the Crystal nectar stands to see what the hubbub about it was. Tossing the nectar vendor a couple bits I grabbed a frothy mug and downed it. ‘Meh, overrated sugary berry cider is overrated’ I thought as I set the empty mug down. I heard some commotion coming from behind me and saw a trio of cloak garbed men arguing over something by a billboard with various postings on it. A particular red and yellow posting caught my attention as I walked over to read it.
‘Attention! A bounty has been placed on a feral creature that has been raiding our livestock fields and killing sheep. The bounty in question totals four thousand bits, not including any possessions the creature might have in its holdings. Those who wish to make claim to the bounty must bring proof of the creature’s demise to the local authorities at the office of domestic affairs.’
While I was reading this, I also covertly listened in on the three men’s quarrel.
“I’m telling you Bastion, this won’t end well. We need at least one more man!” A slim light blue haired man was saying to this buff blond haired guy who looked adamantly on.
“Someone has to slay the Blizzard Beast Arrow! My Uncle happens to be one of those whose livestock have been slaughtered!” He indignantly replied.
“I think both of you have a point” Said a silver haired man leaning to the side watching his two companions argue. “We’ll need one more man before we can even think of attempting such a dangerous undertaking, preferably someone who can scout from the air” He said, turning his gaze toward me.
“Who me?” I asked, wary of their attention “I’m not exactly a trained combatant” I apprehensively replied.
“You don’t need to be” The silver haired man said “We just need someone to help us track this beast down so we can slay it, a Valkyrian like you could aid us in this endeavor”
“How so?” I asked in curiosity.
“This beast thinks that it is clever, assaulting our livestock pens and escaping into the wild during fierce blizzards. Hence its name” The man I recognized as Bastion spoke to me.
“But my Uncle placed collars on his sheep” He smirked like he knew something the beast didn’t “Collars that can be tracked” He added as his smirk grew into a portentous smile.
“You’ll be assisting us by spotting any tracks the beast may have left behind and being our eye in the sky. Plus this beast cannot fly, so having you along will give us an additional advantage” Grey hair said eagerly as he examined my wings.
“How come the local guards don’t handle this?” I enquired of them.
“Our Prince doesn’t believe this to be a matter that requires the attention of the guards” All three shook their heads and grumbled something that sounded like ‘Limp dick royalty’.
“He doesn’t look like he has a weapon” The man known as Arrow pointed out.
“Looks can be deceiving” I smugly said as I drew my Tantō and held it out; the blade glistening in the sunlight as it caught its rays.
“That toothpick?” He scoffed and shook his head “Not much of a weapon” He castigated my means of protection. I was about to retort when silver hair intervened.
“It’s enough to count as him being armed” The silver haired man said before continuing “So how about it? You help us rid our Kingdom of this hindrance and get an even share of the bounty” He held out his hand.
I thought long and hard about it. I mean… hunting down and killing a savage beast isn’t exactly in my credentials, but I guess you never know until you try. I looked at the silver haired stranger before taking his hand and shaking it.
“You got your scout” I said in an evenhanded tone.
“Splendid! I’m Silver Sword; the two behind me are Ardent Bastion and Piercing Arrow as you may have guessed. We three are part of the local militia and therefore have been trained in all manners combat related” He spoke with great zeal.
“Does that make you trained monster slayers as well?” I asked in a slightly dubious tone.
“Of course!” He retorted “ALL manners combat related” He emphasized.
“Okay… so how are we doing this?” I asked.
“We planned to leave while there was still light out; we have enough provisions for all four of us to last a few days, though you might want to purchase more armor than your current attire provides” Silver amusedly spoke as he examined my swanky t-shirt.
“I’m supposed to be your scout right? That means that when it comes to the actual combat, I won’t be directly participating. Plus I don’t want any armor weighing me down and restricting my movement” I reasoned, plus armor sounded expensive.
“Suit yourself” He shrugged.
“I should probably let my caretaker know I’ll be out hunting for blizzard beasts” I said mostly to myself.
“That’s fine with us; we’ll be waiting by the eastern outskirts of the Kingdom. Don’t keep us waiting too long” Silver spoke as he and the other two left to make their way to the edges of the city.
I hurried on back to Crystals to grab a few things and to say farewell. ‘Hope she’s there, otherwise I’ll have to leave a note explaining my absence. Actually… explaining to her that I’m going monster hunting in the first place might not go over so well’ I bleakly thought. What should I do? Lie to her and say that I’m just going on a camping trip with some recently met acquaintances or tell her the full truth? Crystal has been nothing but affable to me since I got here; I mean she’s sheltered me in her own home! Lying would probably come back to bite me in the ass so I decided to go the truthful route. Probably wouldn’t hurt to explain why I’m aiding in a monster hunt too.
Reaching her door, I stopped and hesitated briefly before knocking. She opened up and smiled brightly when she saw that it was me. ‘That smile isn’t making this any easier for me’ I gave her a lopsided one in return.
“Hello Zenith, how was your day?” She asked while ushering me inside.
“It’s been great so far, made a fair amount of bits clearing the skies over a bread vender’s crops” I said showing her the bag.
“That’s wonderful! Our crops will grow so much better with a Valkyrian tending to the skies, I’m glad you found an outlet for your skills” She gleefully spoke.
“Well it wasn’t like I was hired for a job or anything. It was more of a mutually beneficial proposition” I said while shaking the bag, which clinked in emphasis. “Though he did say he’d tell his fellow farmers about me” I added as a side note.
“But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about” My tone became more serious which grabbed her full attention.
“What is it?” She hesitantly asked.
“I came across three men who more or less beseeched me to help them with a problem plaguing the livestock owners” At this her eyes widened considerably.
“You mean the Blizzard Beast!?” She gasped.
“Yea, how did you know?” I asked.
“One of my friend's husband is among those whose livestock have been butchered” She shook her head fervently “Oh Zenith, you mustn’t go! It’s too dangerous, you might be killed!” She pleaded with me.
“Relax Crystal, I’m just acting as their scout while they track the beast, I won’t be in any serious danger” ‘At least I hope not’ I morosely thought “Besides, they’re part of the local militia, so they’re trained to handle this stuff” Despite my reassurances, Crystal remained adamantly against the idea of me going out to slay monsters. This went back and forth until I finally grew exasperated.
“Listen Crystal, I appreciate your concern for my wellbeing…but you’re not my mother. This is my decision” I spoke in a tone which indicated finality.
She flinched as if struck, before she sunk to her knees and started lightly sobbing. ‘Is she crying? Not good’ I tensed myself subconsciously for an emotionally intense moment.
She spoke in a choked voice “No… I’m not your mother, but I don’t want to lose you like I lost my son!” She wailed in despair, and I fully realized I just accidentally struck a serious nerve. I was quickly by her side before embracing her in what I hoped was a consoling hug. She didn’t make any effort to shake me off, so I continued comforting her before speaking in a reconciliatory tone.
“I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to bring back any tragic memories. Especially those of losing a loved one” I said regretfully, she gathered herself together as best she could before speaking mournfully.
“He was so young, eyes so full of life and love and happiness. Then that vile monster Sombra” She practically spat the last word “Enslaved our kingdom and all of its inhabitants, my boy was among those considered too weak to contribute to the labor. So he was…cast out into the wild to be devoured along with the others he deemed useless. The Princesses came to our aid not long afterwards and defeated the tyrant; sealing him away in the frozen ice of the north” She sniffled “But they could not bring my child back, nor the others who lost their lives to the mad king” She continued with her little history lesson.
“As a last spiteful action, Sombra cursed the kingdom to disappear for a millennium so he could reemerge after gathering his strength to enslave us all again”
She laughed mirthlessly before continuing “The only comforting thought I have now is that he was finally vanquished once the crystal heart was returned to us. Sombra and his evil destroyed by the very love and light my son added to, poetic justice at its finest” She humorlessly said before looking me in the eyes.
“You remind me so much of him, always thinking considerately of others. You share his adventurous spirit. You even have the same eyes as him” She pensively spoke and kept her gaze. I returned the look before speaking.
“I’m not your son Crystal, but I promise you won’t lose me the same way you lost him” I resolutely declared.
She shook her head and bore a melancholy smile “You’re just as stubborn as he was when he was set on something” She sighed in a resigned fashion.
“I suppose I can’t keep you from doing this can I?” I shook my head.
“I only ask that you do your utmost to be careful” She requested and I nodded to her in validation.
We both got up off of the floor and Crystal left for the bathroom to compose herself while I sifted through my backpack before grabbing one of those flashbangs I was so graciously provided with. Crystal was waiting for me by the door and gripped me in a tight hug before I left.
“Be safe” She barely spoke in a whisper.
“I’ll be back before you know it” I spoke in a confident manner before she let go of me.
I walked forward a few paces before glancing behind, Crystal was leaning against the doorway; a sad but hopeful smile on her face. I waved to her which she returned before I took off into the sky heading eastward. I spotted the three militia men along with their gathered gear where we agreed to rendezvous and landed. They looked up at me and nodded in acknowledgement which I returned. Arrow decided to speak up.
“Bout time you showed up, we were startin’ to think you reneged on us” He said impatiently.
“Yes well, my caretaker is all for emotional farewells” I said with a tired expression.
“We’re losing daylight here!” Ardent Bastion bellowed “Let’s get going, I want to make that beast pay for spilling the blood of my family’s livestock” He said in a dark tone.
“You’ll have to pardon Bastion’s impassioned desire to hunt the beast, he shepherded his uncles livestock when the beast attacked” Silver Sword explained
“I trust the tiny ewes weren’t slaughtered?” I asked and raised my brow to which Bastion shook his head and smirked.
“Those miniscule things are only good for petting zoos; they lack enough wool to make shearing them worthwhile. Though their diminutive stature is probably the reason why the Blizzard Beast never bothers with them; not enough meat I suppose”
We started making our way to the barrier boundary when Sliver asked me a question.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing something warmer?” He quirked his brow.
“Don’t see why, Valkyrians are more tolerant to cold climates. We can handle them the same as you’d handle a crisp morning breeze” I told him, to which he nodded in understanding. I decided to ask a question of my own.
“You mentioned collars that could be tracked earlier, how does that work?”
Bastion pulled out what looked like a compass before explaining.
“My Uncle had this compass enchanted so that if his livestock ever got lost for whatever reason, he would be able to track the nearest ones by following the direction the red needle pointed. So this will lead us to his collared sheep, or rather what’s left of them” He nauseously remarked at the end.
“Convenient” I remarked to which he shook his head in agreement. I saw Silver’s pause in place as if he forgotten something before speaking.
“I nearly forgot! We gave you our names but we never asked yours. Tell me, by what name does our scout go by?” They all looked at me expectantly.
“Name’s Zenith, pleased to formally make your acquaintance” I said with an exaggerated flourish.
They chuckled at my antics while Silver placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled confidently.
“Well then Zenith, how bout we go hunt ourselves a snow dragon?”
My eyes widened slightly as we stepped out of the climate barrier.
Stepping out of the Krystal Kingdom’s acclimatized boundaries was a lot like stepping into the refrigerated fresh produce section of your average local Costco, nippy but not terribly cold; albeit a good deal windier. Taking my mind off the vastly different temperature conditions, I turned my attention to Silver Sword.
“This Blizzard Beast is a Dragon?” I ruefully asked to which Silver nodded.
“How do we plan to kill it? Last time I checked dragons were kind of resilient to damage, what with them being covered in thick scales and all” I voiced my skepticism.
Ardent Bastion gruffly retorted, “Same thing you do to kill anything else. You keep going at it till it finally falls” He returned to checking his enchanted compass before changing our course slightly.
‘Not much of a game plan’ I acerbically thought, ‘Although they did tell me that they were trained fighters, not trained tacticians’ I further mused.
I decided to question Silver once more, “This Blizzard Beast isn’t one of those intelligent dragons right?”
He shook his head in response, “No, it’s completely feral. If it ever was intelligent at one point, it has completely reverted to its baser nature”
Pierce; as I’ve decided to call him, intruded into our conversation. “If you ask me, we’re doing this loathsome overgrown lizard a favor by killin’ it. And if we get paid for doing so, all the better I say” He perniciously stated as he patted his wooden recurve bow with a confidant smirk.
“Plus, we have you along for air support. I feel like our chances are decent now” He added in a genuinely honest tone.
‘This is coming from the guy who criticized my choice of weapon, ambivalent much?’
“Your confidence in my aerial abilities is flattering” I couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice. He just smirked at me before snarking back.
“Well, at the very worst… you’ll make great dragon bait” The other two chuckled as we trudged along in the snow.
It wasn’t terribly scenic, the snow was up to our shins and visibility conditions were obscured by continuously falling snow bits. The only landmarks distinguishing the horizon were snowcapped mountains. The skies were rather dark and grey too. To be honest, it was as dreary as what I imagine Siberia would be like on a Tuesday.
‘Seems like I’ve gone from a crystal motif to a snowy one… wonderful’ I humorlessly thought. I felt the need to free my feet from the snow since it was starting to melt and saturate my sneakers with water. I turned to Silver Sword and spoke, “I’m going stretch my intangible wings” to which he nodded his consent, “Don’t fly so far as to lose track of us” He warned me to which I assured him I wouldn’t and took off. I ascended to about thirty meters above the ground before looking downward to see the three brown dots contrasting against the white snow that made up my present company. The flying conditions were a little rougher than back in the Kingdom, the turbulent winds gave me a difficult time hovering in the same spot above the three bounty hunters below me. But I took it in stride, I figured I needed more practice flying in less than ideal conditions if I was going to be worth my wings. Although I was starting to regret not bringing along some kind of flight goggles to keep the wind and ice out of my eyes, I made a mental note to correct that later.
Not terribly much happened over the next three or so hours, I kept to the skies and battled it out with tempestuous gusts of air while Ardent made small adjustments to our course. It was getting dark by the time Silver bade me back to the Earth with a wide wave of his arms. By then, ice laced winds on the ground had died down a bit and the blanket of snow beneath us was almost completely level. Silver took an appreciative glance at the surroundings before unslinging a very large bag he had been carrying onto the ground.
“We’ll make camp here for the night before resuming the hunt for our quarry come the morn”
He stooped down and opened the bag, revealing its contents of a bundled up tent and camping supplies not limited to but including; sleeping bags, and oil lanterns, bituminous coal, strips of jerky and other consumables. I helped the others with setting up the circular four person sized tent and anchoring it to the frosted ground beneath the snow with those railroad like tent stakes. I noticed that the tent had a covered opening at the top, probably to let out smoke from the fire that would be placed in the middle of the tent. The fire itself was contained in a metallic vessel filled with the bituminous coal and filled the surrounding air in the tent with welcomed warmth. We set up our sleeping bags around the toasty flames and prepared to settle in for the night. Before we did so however, we spent some time polishing and maintaining our weapons; or at least the other three did since my Tantō was both pristine and immaculate. So I simply sat there and watched Silver buffing out his namesake sword, Pierce examining his arrows to making sure the tips were razor sharp, and Ardent honing the edges of his double bladed battle-axe against a whetstone. The three of them reminded me of Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli from Lord of the Rings; and not just for their choice of weapons. Silver was a forward thinking and forbearing unofficial leader of the three; his voice even sounded a lot like Viggo Mortensen’s. Pierce was the tenacious (and hopefully just as skilled) archer, even if he was more of a wise cracker. And Ardent was the headstrong no-nonsense axe wielding berserker. I silently chuckled to myself at the similarities, what did that make me? A Meriadoc Brandybuck with the dagger?
Silver decided to strike up a conversation while he and the other two tended to their blades.
“So tell us more about yourself Zenith” He said in a sincerely curious tone, “I wish to know more about our forward scout”
“I’ll share if you do so first” I said, to which Silver sheathed his argent blade with a loud ‘Shiink!’ and replied with a smile.
“Very well, I’ve lived in the Krystal Kingdom my whole life; I fought alongside these two” He gestured to the others, “Against Sombra when he usurped control away from our people. Though despite our best efforts, we we’re subdued by his dark magic and were held captive while he enslaved all of our friends and family” He paused momentarily as though the memory was still painfully fresh, before continuing. “Then after he was defeated and cast out by the victorious Princesses, our Kingdom was lost to the world for a millennium; a last spiteful act by a craven coward. We’ve only returned to the world for a few months now, and so much has changed in our absence. Still… we’ve adjusted fairly well in my opinion; we have even had our fair city chosen to host the next Arcanian Athletic Events!” He enthusiastically concluded. Pierce resolved to tell his story at this point.
“Yeah I served with these two in the defense of our homes” ‘Much good it did us’ He muttered, to which he received a slug in the shoulder and a reprimanding glare from Ardent. Pierce rubbed his sore shoulder in an unapologetic manner before resuming, “Anyway, once our Kingdom returned to the world and our collective amnesia was lifted by the actions of the bearers of Harmonious Virtues, ‘So that’s what the element bearers are called here’ along with Sombra being soundly defeated, I toured the lands south of the Kingdom and participated in a few archery tournaments here and there. Even won a majority of em” He grinned and looked upwards as he relieved what were probably cherished memories of accomplishment.
I looked at Ardent in anticipation for his tale and he shook his head in response, causing his short bushy beard to sway. “Not much to say, I’ve never ventured out of the Kingdom beyond the mountains. And from what Piercy here has told me of the lands to the South, there’s not much special enough to warrant my time. No, I’m content to merely stay with my Uncle’s family and manage his livestock for him” He furrowed his brow and scowled. “A job that has been disrupted by this damned Blizzard Beast assaulting our Kingdom and wreaking havoc. I cannot wait to make my displeasure known to that cursed wyrm” He let out a dark chuckle as he narrowed the edge of his axe, which I noticed, had intricate lines engraved into the cheek of the blade. One half of the blade had lines that made me think of a pair of shears with a banana peel interposed within it, and I couldn’t really think what the other half reminded me of.
“What’s with the lines on your axe?” I inquired.
“Those are arcane runic patterns meant to augment my axe, makes killing things easier” He explained as he further tapered its edge.
I turned my attention to the other two who looked at me expectantly, I signed and thought about what I was going to say for a moment before speaking in a detached tone.
“Before I came to these lands I was what you’d consider a fairly average person, I studied in school for a bachelor’s degree that I’d presumably use to earn my daily bread. From there I’d then enter a school of even higher knowledge to further myself; perhaps a school of medicine”
“Can you mend wounds?” Silver interjected.
“Uhm… no, I apologize if I won’t be able to act as team medic” I stated apologetically.
“It’s quite alright, we had some training in first aid in the militia” He said placating me.
“Boring course that was” Pierce said stodgily, before being shushed by Ardent who rolled his hand in a gesture that told me to continue my little story.
“Right where was I? I had a select few friends or ‘good acquaintances’ (I mentally chuckled) as I called them. And I lived where the weather was almost consistently near perfection and palm trees grew in abundance”
“What made you come to our humble slice of the world then?” Ardent asked me as he finished grinding his axe against the whetstone.
“All this snow and ice is a far cry from the home you described, why indeed?” Pierce spoke incredulously, as if he couldn’t imagine any soft folk used to dry conditions venturing anywhere where the water was locked in solid form.
I had a thoughtful look on my face as I pondered my unusual circumstances. Why was I brought to this strange variation of a show I enjoyed watching anyway? Who or what even brought me here to begin with? A mental image of Mister Bean saying magic and then snorting popped up and made me mentally roll my eyes.
‘That’s probably the long and short of it I suppose. Way to go brain, helpful as always’ I looked back at the awaiting men before answering hesitantly.
“I’m tempted to say fate… but that would sound a bit cliché, let’s just say unique and unforeseeable factors delivered me here” I concluded my ambiguously truthful backstory.
Wanting to change the subject I spoke deliberately.
“Now that we’ve gotten formally introduced to each other, let us talk about tactics”
“Was my earlier battle plan not adequate enough for you?” Ardent asked in a somewhat offended tone.
“Not quite” I responded as I pulled out the stun grenade I carried earlier from my pocket.
“This” I tapped the casing with my index finger, “Is a little something from back home called a flashbang; specifically an M84 stun grenade” The three of them eyed it warily, obviously unfamiliar with such a device.
“It does exactly as it’s named; upon detonation it creates a bright flash and a deafening bang which completely disorients anyone in its blast radius, which is about five feet. We can use this to stupefy our target, and since dragons tend to have sensitive sight and hearing it will be even more effective!” They had a skeptical look on their faces and Pierce gave voice to his doubts.
“How do we know it will work? It doesn’t sit right with me relying on some fancy doohickey to incapacitate a fully grown snow dragon”
“It’ll work” I assured them, “This ‘fancy doohickey’ will maximize the effectiveness of a surprise attack; make our bounty that much easier to claim”
Silver seemed to like my idea after giving it some thought and backed me, “I concur, every advantage we can obtain will tip the odds ever more in our favor”
Ardent gave his opinion in the form of a noncommittal grunt, “Whatever helps me to sink my axe in that damned lizard’s skull” he shrugged.
Pierce still had a doubtful disposition but spoke no more of it since his comrades approved of my plan to blitz the dragon.
“We should turn in for the night and get some rest” Ardent stated as he stowed his axe away “We’ll need all of our strength tomorrow. We’re getting close to our quarry, I can feel it!” He boldly emphasized.
I sure wasn’t going to complain, all that flying against those gale force like winds really took it out of me. With a yawn, I got comfy in my sleeping bag and was swiftly carried off to dreamland. The crackling of the nearby fire luring me to sleep.
⁂
I was awoken the next morning by Silver who lightly shook me awake. I blinked away the weariness and look around the tent, the other two sleeping bags were bereft of their inhabitants. Silver saw the inquiry form in my eyes and anticipated my unasked question.
“Ardent and Pierce are already outside and getting ready to move out, we get to pack everything up”
“Goody” I groaned before sitting up and shaking off the sleep.
‘I was dreaming about a monkey punching kittens, issat supposed to mean something?’ I asked myself.
‘You’re secretly a sadistic and animal cruelty oriented person?’ My morning brain snidely remarked at me.
‘That or you just have a hard on for violence in general’
‘Okay brain that’s enough outta you’
‘I WILL NOT BE SILEN-’ *Powering down*
Internal dialogue aside, I proceeded to assist Silver in putting everything away. Rolling up the sleeping bags, snuffing out the fire, and unhitching the tent and packing it away. It was arduous and boring but I participated accordingly, I wanted to come off as a credit to this team after all. Once all that was finished, we resumed on our quest to slay the blizzard beast. It’s a shame the journey itself wasn’t as epic as it sounded, Ardent’s enchanted tracking compass leading us closer to one of the snow topped mountains. ‘The Dragon probably has a cave den up there, what is it with Dragons and caves?’ Deciding that now was a good time I took to the air, silently grateful that it wasn’t as windy as yesterday. As we drew ever closer to the mountains, I noticed faint but rather noticeable streaks of crimson against the alabaster snow about a fifteen minute walk ahead of our position. I decided to check it out personally before reporting my findings back to the group. The first thing I noticed as I set down on the ground was that snow had been recently trudged through by something big. The tracks that were raked through the snow were spaced apart by at least five meters, indicating a beast of considerable size had recently passed by here. Small bits and pieces of wool scattered here and there were accompanied by the blood streaks I spotted earlier. The bloody trails led up the mountain a short distance before cutting off around a small bend. Satisfied with what I found I made my way back to my companions via the air. Landing just next to Silver I gave him the results of my scouting, reporting the bloody trail that would point us toward our serpentine objective.
“We are indeed drawing close to the Beast then, nicely done” Silver complimented me and motioned to the group’s navigator.
“You can put away that compass Ardent, we’ve found our bounty” He directed to the man, who took out his axe and wore an anticipative look of vengeance against the beast that dared devour the sheep he was charged with protecting.
“This thing won’t be able to detect us through scent right?” I asked.
Pierce answered me, “In these frigid conditions? Unlikely, frozen food isn’t exactly odiferous” He punctuated with a shiver.
“Nonetheless, we must approach with caution lest we give away ourselves prematurely” Silver forewarned us and turned to me.
“That device you told us about last night, what is its fuse time?” He asked.
“A couple seconds so once you pull it, you have to toss it immediately” I answered, pulling up my rudimentary knowledge of the M84.
“Then we will have to begin our assault almost at once. I and the others will handle this part; provide whatever assistance you think you can give” He told me as we approached the bend in the path. Turning the corner we came across the frosted mouth of a cave, with our blizzard beast presumably within its confines.
‘Called it’ I smirked to myself.
We heard a cacophony of growling and crunching noises coming from inside the cave, verifying that our bounty was indeed at home and unwittingly feeding upon livestock whose collars happened to be traceable. I felt my heart rate climb as we drew ever closer to our unsuspecting prey, ‘Wow, does hunting always feel this exhilarating?’ I saw the others slowly draw their weapons and uncloak, Pierce had an outfit that reminded me of the elven light armor from Skyrim and was nocking his bow with razor sharp arrows, Ardent wasn’t wearing any abdominal armor at all and was rolling the axe in his hands impatiently, and Silver wore a metal chest piece with segmented shoulder pauldrons and leggings and was holding the handle of his sword close to his side, having left the camping provisions bag aside. I subconsciously felt for the scabbard of my Tantō to make sure it was still there and felt relief when my hand brushed the smooth wood of its surface. I was beginning to feel vulnerable without any kind of armor before remembering that I was simply this group’s scout and that I wasn’t supposed to be heavily armored, only mobile. With a shallow breath, I followed my armed companions into the cave’s entrance.
The cave was actually decently lit from the opening, along with large crevices that offered a spectacular view of the adjacent mountains. By this point we were close enough that I was able to see the large and slightly spiky profile of the lepidote lizard. It had a long neck that was covered in small spines and what looked like curved horns protruding out of the sides of its head. The beast itself was facing away from us and seemed to be gnawing at the remnants of what were probably the eviscerated remains of some poor sheep. The rancid stench of death hung in the air and I had to use most of my willpower not to gag loudly and give us away.
Witnessing some conveniently placed rocks flanking the beast, Silver directed us behind them. Pierce and Ardent took positions behind the beast’s left and me and Silver behind its right. Silver gave me a look that told me to enact our surprise attack to which I nodded and pulled out my little contrivance. My fingers gripped its porous casing and curled around the pulling pins. I mentally went over what I had to do. ‘Okay, so I just have to pull the circular and triangular pins in succession then retract the safety lever and toss it. I should get it as close to its face as I can to get the most out of this. No pressure…’
I peeked around the corner to see the soon to be bushwhacked dragon still oblivious to our presence as it greedily munched down on its meal. ‘Time to fix that’ I gave a shrill and terse whistle to grab its attention before I pulled the pins and handle on the grenade and tossed it, the beast briskly brought its hefty head around before looking down at the curious object I threw its way. I didn’t get to see its reaction since I shut my eyes tightly and covered my ears with both hands, an action the others emulated all too eagerly. Even with my hands wrapped around my ears the ensuing detonation was loud as hell, but thankfully not dazing. The beast that got a face full of a million candelas and one hundred and seventy decibels was not so fortunate, it roared in pain as the onslaught of both light and noise struck its acute senses, rendering its vision blurred and its ears ringing; leaving it temporarily incapacitated. The other three took this opportunity to attack the beast as they bellowed a mighty battle cry. Silver and Ardent charged at the disoriented dragon while Pierce let loose a deluge of arrows upon it; he seemed to be aiming for its eyes but since the beast was shaking its head violently to clear its faculties, he only managed to land most of them in its main body and tail. Silver and Ardent started hacking and slashing as its limbs since the beast’s head and neck were elevated too high off the ground for them to reach. Thanks to what must have been the enchantments on their weapons they were able to draw blood despite the beast’s tough scaled body.
The Dragon must have finally realized what was happening and hissed in both anger and pain as it blindly swung its claws at the fast moving blurs attacking it. Even in its bewildered state, Ardent and Silver were only just dodging most of its swipes. I stood a safe distance away trying to flank around the beast while looking for an opening. We were managing a good ambush on the beast before it finally regained control of its senses and pressed its counterattack, knocking Silver against the wall of the cave with a tremendous swing of its tail and putting him out of the fight before turning its attention to Ardent, who defiantly kept slashing at any spot he could reach. It opened its maw, revealing its sharp and blood stained teeth and attempted to bite at him. He dodged swiftly around its chomping jaws and swung his axe at its face, sinking it deep into its cheek and causing it to yelp in agony. Pierce kept a relatively safe distance away and continued with his onslaught of arrows, turning the Blizzard Beast’s side into a bloody collage of blood and light green scales. It bore a sickening resemblance to one of those modern abstract compositions that I once saw in an art museum. The pain detracted enough of the dragon’s focus that it was only able to make a maladroit lash out at Pierce with its lumbering tail. Something he dodged by diving out of the way and coming out of the roll with an arrow nocked, which he let loose into the Dragon’s exposed nether regions. The beast let loose the loudest roar yet which seemed to shake the very ground. ‘Probably scored a critical hit in a sensitive region’ I humorously thought as I ducked and weaved closer to the Dragon’s blind spot. Ardent resumed pressing his advantage against the weakening opponent and it in turn focused solely on him in a blind animalistic fury only a cornered creature fought with.
While this was happening, I saw my opportunity to end the fight. By making its head level with the ground while it ferociously fought Ardent with both tooth and nail, I saw that I could land on its back and make my way for the top of its skull. I did just that, I leaped onto its back with the aid of my wings and crawled my way to its cranium using the spines on it back as handholds. The beast must have noticed its unwanted passenger because it flailed and shook violently, almost throwing me off several times. ‘So this is what Wander had to deal with when scaling the Colossi’ I bitterly thought as I hung onto the beast’s spines for dear life. Eventually the beast had to return its attention to the bellicose man with the battle axe who was getting increasingly audacious in his attack.
The spines along its neck made for good handles and I reached ever closer to what I hoped was a weak spot. Thankfully Pierce wasn’t aiming at its head anymore or I’d quickly become a human pincushion. I finally reached atop its head when the beast knocked away Ardent’s axe with a swipe from it claws and caused him to fall with his back to the ground completely unarmed and vulnerable. It loomed over him and raised a jagged claw with the intention of goring him. Acting quickly I unsheathed my Tantō and drove it repeatedly into the base of its skull, the incredibly sharp blade puncturing through scale and bone as if it were thick pie crust before perforating its brain. The blood spattered beast yowled poignantly as it entered its death throes before finally collapsing and letting out a drawn out death gurgle as its life expended.
There was absolute silence afterwards, save for the howling of the winds outside which had picked up since then. I pulled out my blade and shook it free of blood and brain matter before hopping off of the now dead Blizzard Beast. I walked up to Ardent who was still on the ground with an astounded expression on his face and offered him a hand up, which he accepted after a few moments. I saw Pierce nearby with his jaw on the floor and I couldn’t help but call him out on his earlier comment.
“How’s that for a toothpick?” I said with a smarmy grin.
A bruised and battered Silver picked himself off of the floor and groaned in pain before hobbling over to us, a large dent in his once unblemished chest piece.
“Never knew you had it in you Zenith, very well done” He slapped a hand on my shoulder in approbation. I simply shrugged and answered.
“I saw an opening and I exploited it, but that wouldn’t have been possible without you guys monopolizing its attention” I looked at them appreciatively.
Pierce finally got over his astonishment before turning his head away and wisecracking dismissively to me.
“You got lucky” to which he received a slap in the back of the head from Ardent.
“Give credit to where its due Pierce! Zenith here just secured our bounty and eliminated a menace to our kingdom” Ardent reprimanded the acrimonious archer.
“Speaking of which, how are we gonna bring back evidence? We can’t exactly just drag that things corpulent corpse back to the kingdom” I raised my concerns to the group.
“We’ll declaw the dead beast and saw off its horns” Silver stated, “Should be enough to appease the authorities” So we got to doing just that, using serrated bone saws that were kept in Silver’s bag. They certainly planned ahead for all of this.
Thirty or so minutes of squicky amputation later, we were headed down the mountain and back to the kingdom with convincing evidence of our kill. Leaving behind a large corpse to slowly rot and decay in the wintery wasteland. The guys were in high spirits owing to their victory over the beast, each with a large and satisfied smile on their face and wearing garments soaked in the blood of their kill.
‘Wait until I tell Crystal about this’ I thought with premonition as we marched back to the kingdom, each man about to be a thousand bits richer and a good deal more renowned.
So there we were, triumphantly making our way back to the Krystal Kingdom. Taking turns dragging back the proof of our kill in the form of two sawn off horns and an assortment of crimson stained claws; etching jagged lines in the ivory snow. We stopped about halfway back in order to rest and consume some of our tasty jerky and rehydrate ourselves before resuming our way homeward; I use that term loosely since I still felt a little out of place here. The other three spent most of the time facetiously bantering over who caused the most harm to the Dragon while I was preoccupied doing some introspection.
“I landed more blows than you my brawny friend” Silver said, as if stating a fact.
“Aye” Ardent agreed, “But those were mere flesh wounds! My axe tasted much more blood in comparison” He proudly quipped.
Pierce interjected with his own contributions during the fight.
“That dead beast felt the sting of my arrows where it hurt” He chuckled; probably at the memory of scoring a shot in its crotch, “Kept its attention diverted away from you two as well” He added, to which the other two scoffed.
“It wasn’t distracting enough to keep it from plastering myself against the wall. I’m going to be feeling that for a week!” Silver said in a joking tone and rolled his shoulders, eliciting a crack and pop from them respectively.
“Ha! Real men can take a hit and get back up for more!” Ardent stated loudly and clapped a hand on Silver’s shoulder, causing him to wince in discomfort at his injured back. “That’s more than can be said of you Piercy, always keeping a comfortable distance from the action”
Pierce scowled in annoyance at the obscure insult to his masculinity.
“Even our unassuming scout here is more hands on than you! Who knew Zenith had a warrior’s spirit in him?” Ardent bellowed with laughter before slapping me on the back, shaking me from my thoughts.
Silver took notice of my silence and voiced concern, “Is something troubling you Zenith? We’ve achieved success in our hunt and by your hand no less! Why do you not join us in our merriment?”
I shook my head lethargically and sighed, “It’s nothing guys, just got a lot occupying my mind at the moment”
The main subject I ruminated on was how I felt after killing the Dragon, or more accurately what I didn’t feel. I just ended the life of a living creature without as much as a second thought, sinking my knife into its skull as casually as I would a watermelon. Wasn’t I supposed to feel something? Happy for ending its raids on the Krystal Kingdom? Sad for having to put it out of its misery? Yet I felt nothing at all, and that bothered me on a deeper level. Not wanting to draw any more undue attention to myself, I changed the subject back to the fight.
“You two ought to give Pierce a little more credit, some of his arrows made for great handholds while I was scaling the mighty beast!” I punctuated my histrionic statement by pretending to climb up something, getting some chuckles from Silver and Ardent and an almost imperceptibly small grateful smile from Pierce.
The conviviality continued until we reached the climate boundary of the Krystal Kingdom, the light blue dome contrasting with the dull skies above. As we progressed inside, the guys sighed in relief in response to the warm air coming to greet them as we stepped in. Due to my now inherent resilience to the natural elements I hardly noticed the difference; it was like standing in front of your refrigerator for a few minutes and then shutting it, you could disregard the dissimilarity in temperatures.
“So where do we haul our hard won proof of the kill?” I asked.
“To the domestic affairs office, that’s where we can collect our reward” Silver informed me.
So we ambled our way there, drawing some confused and more than a few repulsed stares at our gory prizes in tow from the locals. Granted we weren’t exactly spick and span ourselves, being covered with dried blood and sweat from both the fight and the ensuing saw work afterwards. While the other three seemed to revel in the attention they were receiving, it only served to remind me how horrified Crystal was going to be at the sight of me. I internally cringed at the thought of making my impromptu caretaker any more frightened for my well-being.‘I just had to remind her of her lost son didn’t I?’I sighed in exasperation. I did promise her that I would be careful and I meant it; I owe her at least that much for taking me in.
We eventually reached the domestic affairs office, a large crystalline building with a layout that reminded me of the post office near my home, ‘Don’t think about home you fool!’ Inside there were several stalls leading to either a clerk or other manner of government worker, each with an orderly line of people behind them waiting to voice whatever their concern was. We took our place in line for one of the clerks, the people in front of us shifting nervously back and forth or even just abandoning their spot in line at the sight of our bloodied and matted visage.
“Squeamish aren’t they?” I remarked to myself, obtaining muted chortles of agreement from the guys as we advanced in place.
I personally have no issues with being in contact with blood and guts. I once spent summer vacation my junior year of high school doing a mini-med camp program in Philadelphia; five weeks of being exposed to procedures like colonoscopies, surgeries, and autopsies all before lunch time confirmed to me that I had a strong stomach for these kinds of things. If you can eat something with the thick smell of Formaldehyde clinging to your nostrils then you can tolerate just about anything. Perhaps that should have been the first sign that I would be jaded to my slaying of the Snow Dragon.
To his credit, the clerk at the window only raised an eyebrow at our sanguine delivery once we reached him. He wore a maroon regency era coat and waistcoat that gave him a retroactive sense of class. His once light green hair that was turning a less vibrant shade of gray along with slight age wrinkles were probably clues that this old timer had seen his fair share of unorthodox sights.
“I assume you gentlemen are here to claim the bounty on the Blizzard Beast?” He said as he pointed the feathery end of his quill at us.
‘Pfft, quills, I’m going to have to do something about that someday’ I offhandedly thought, remembering my backpack filled with one of a kind utilities.
“That’s right, it wasn’t an easy task but thanks to our friend here” Pierce wrapped an arm around me, “We managed to strike it down once and for all!”
The clerk nodded his understanding, “I see, well then I must congratulate you! You’ve done our kingdom a great service ridding us of that foul threat to our people”
He waved us closer to him, “Tell me your names that I may record who has achieved this great deed, you must be recognized for giving the Krystal people one less problem to fret over”
Pierce unsurprisingly, spoke first. “Piercing Arrow, second detachment of the Krystal Militia”
Ardent went next, “Ardent Bastion of the same unit, it was my pleasure smiting that scaly freak” He added with a sadistic smirk.
Silver spoke his piece, “Silver Sword, Sergeant at arms of the second detachment”
‘So he is their leader’ One of my suspicions confirmed, I announced myself to the aged clerk.
“Zenith, I’m…not part of their militia, but they recruited me to be their scout and air support”
The clerk stared at me with a perplexed look, “Air support?” I remembered that I had dispelled my wings on the journey back, feeling content to merely walk back.
“Oh right” I resummoned them, the now familiar sensation sitting on my shoulder blades once more.
The clerk then adopted an expression of remembrance upon seeing them, “Ah! We were told to be on the lookout for a Valkyrian with your name. The Princess of the Krystal Kingdom has requested an audience with you” He informed me in an official tone. The guys started murmuring to each other over the news of this.
My face did not show it, but I was not expecting this. ‘I just got back from one situation only to find myself in another! Well… I kind of knew this was going to happen sooner rather than later’ I decided to shake the tree a little to see if I could opt out.
“Is this the kind of request that I can politely turn down or the formal way one that basically tells me that I’ve been summoned?” Please be the first, please be the first.
The clerk must have thought my inquiry hilariously preposterous because he smirked in amusement before replying, “The latter, though if you want to deny our Royal Majesty’s wishes then who am I to stop you?” He sat back and shrugged before making a conjecture, “Although I doubt her guards would take kindly to her Excellency being refused” He smugly stated, knowing I was going before the Princess no matter what.
‘Damn, this old man still has a bit of troll in him’ I begrudgingly acknowledged.
“Very well” I sighed in mock defeat, “I suppose I shall have to pay the Princess a visit then won’t I?”
“A wise choice, though I recommend a bath and a change of clothes before making your appearance before the Krystal Vicereine of Arcania” The cantankerous clerk craned his neck to the side in aversion to my unkempt complexion.
“Thanks for the advice Jeeves, I’ll keep that in mind before showing up in front of Royalty looking like I rolled around in a butcher’s shop” I sarcastically retorted.
Surprise showed on the clerk’s face, “How did you know my name was Jeeves?” He asked in confusion.
My response was to groan and slap a hand to my face, “Never mind that. Can we just collect the reward and go?”
He swiftly got over his astonishment at the mention of ‘reward’, “Of course, I presume you want it divided evenly? We all responded in the affirmative.
“Then I shall retrieve it for you” He got up from his counter and made his way into a backroom.
While we waited for his return, the guys decided to heckle me over my upcoming meeting with the Princess.
“Seems like the Princess has an eye for our monster slaying scout!” Pierce pestered me before crudely mimicking the Princess, swaying in a feminine fashion and overlapping his hands over his chest.
“Oh Zenith! How can I ever thank you for aiding my precious subjects?” His antics drew laughter from the guys. Needless to say, I was not amused by his ridiculous act.
“You know? You do a disturbingly close imitation of an actual woman. It doesn’t help that you have a rather petite figure for a man either” I deadpanned, the other two ‘oohed’ at my zinger and Pierce once again scowled at having his manhood insulted.
The sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted our inane quibble,“If this little cadre is done making a scene, I have your reward right here” Jeeves said with an impatient tone, tapping the counter overlaid with four very thick bags.
“Excellent, so do you want us to leave these here?” Ardent gestured with a thumb behind himself to the sawn off horns and claws bundled together with twine.
“That…won’t be necessary. You may keep them for yourselves, as trophies perhaps?” Jeeves said with slight disgust adorning his face.
Ardent looked as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning upon hearing those words; a very humorous and slightly off settling sight given how bloody he looked.
“I can’t wait to hang these horns on my family’s mantelpiece! I could also probably turn the claws into bone meal and sell that to offset the loss of my uncle’s sheep” Ardent happily exclaimed his conciliation.
“What you do with them is your own business sir” Jeeves stated apathetically, “Now take your bits and go, you’re holding up the line” He pointed behind us to a line of agitated and restless people glowering at us.
“It seems we’ve outstayed our welcome my fellows, let’s take our money and leave” Silver said as he grabbed his share of the bounty. I followed suit and took the very large and hefty bag (sack was more accurate) of bits and followed my companions outside.
“It’s a shame you have an appointment with Royalty, otherwise we’d enjoy having you among our company as we drink and be merry this night” Silver said apologetically.
“Aye, we’ll buy an extra drink in your name!” Ardent added with enthusiasm.
“I’m drinking it in your stead though” Pierce finished in amusement.
“Thanks guys, I’m honored. Sorry that I’ll have to take a rain check on that celebration” I waved to them as we parted ways.
My first order of business was returning to Crystal’s to reassure her that I was still alive and in good health before showering off the dried blood caked onto my skin. Which was still quite apparent as evidenced by the stupefied looks people were insistent on giving me. More than a few people believed me injured and tried dragging me to a hospital, which I respectfully resisted. I reached Crystal’s home rather quickly thanks to its recognizable rounded shape relative to the surrounding homes; glad to be free from the undesired attention. I didn’t even get to knock on the door before it flew open and I was nearly knocked down by a ferocious hug from my caretaker.
“Oh Zenith you had me so worried!” She pulled back to look at me and gasped at my unsightly semblance.
“By the Princesses you’re hurt! Come, we must take you to the infirmary at once!” She tried pulling me along but I would not budge a single inch.
“Crystal relax! It’s not my blood, just the Blizzard Beast’s. I’m fine really, just in serious need of a shower and some fresh clothes” She looked unconvinced but yielded when I walked inside anyway.
“I’ll get to washing your soiled garments immediately!” She said expeditiously and started looking for her laundering materials.
‘This woman is going to run herself ragged over me’ I thought with a mild sense of presentiment.
“Crystal” I said with a strict tone, catching her attention, “Please don’t burn the candle at both ends just for my sake; I’ll wash my own clothes. You’ve done enough for me lately and undue stress won’t do anybody any good. Just relax and take deep breaths, can you do that for me?” I beseeched her, to which she complied.
“Very well, I’ll just make us some tea and leave you to it then” She sighed heavily before wrapping me in yet another hug.
“I’m so glad you’re back, I feared the worst and I’m sorry for being overbearing” She apologized as she leaned her head against my chest.
“It’s alright Crystal, I understand your fears. And I intend to keep the promise I made to you” She looked at me with watery eyes, searching for something. Finding it, she calmed considerably.
“I know you will” And with that she left to make the tea.
I made my way upstairs to take care of my sullied personage, dropping off my newly acquired bits next to my other belongings before stripping off my sweaty and blood spattered clothes and tossing them in a hamper before retrieving a fresh set of briefs and black jeans and a grey t-shirt with a lucky brand spade in front. As I entered the bathroom carrying my clothes in hand, I briefly wondered why Crystal did not ask about the large sack I was carrying before realizing that she was too concerned over me to either notice or care.
‘She worries about me as much as my own mother’ I satirically thought, though it was comforting to know someone cared about me as though I was one of their own.
I was rather pleased to find that Crystal supplemented her toiletries with less feminine products for my own use, the soap and shampoo bore a scent reminiscent of Old Spice Komodo. I sighed in relief as I felt the results of earlier exertion simply wash away, the steam of the hot shower soothing my airways and bringing peace to my perpetual line of turbulent thoughts. Sadly it wasn’t to last and I had to conclude my cleansing, but at least I smelled like the freshest of distant cultures. After drying myself off with a towel and dressing myself, I made my way downstairs to Crystal who was waiting for me at the table with a cup of tea in her hands and another across the table for me. I took my seat and drank of the tea, relishing in its strong cinnamon aftertaste.
“So how was your journey?” Crystal asked me with legitimate interest.
“Eh… the usual, trudging through a vast terrain of snow, tracking a dangerous creature using a conveniently enchanted compass, camping for the night, discovering that creature’s domain the next morning, ambushing said creature, striking it down, taking its horns and claws as evidence of its defeat, and cashing in its bounty” I summarized the details of my little adventure in a nonchalant fashion.
“You make it sound so simple” She said confoundedly.
“All in a day’s work” I took a swig of my drink, secretly thrilled for using a cheesy one liner while drinking tea like a boss. (Or is it sir?)
“How much did you make risking your life like that?” She said with a hint of irate vexation in her voice.
“About a thousand bits” I plainly stated.
She choked on her tea and sputtered, “A thousand!?”
“Yeah” I answered, “Why? Is that a lot?” I received a flabbergasted look as an answer.
“It’s more than most people here make in six months!” She exclaimed.
“Oh” Was all I said before taking another sip and emptying my cup, “Well I intend to give half of it to you” I said while setting it down on the table.
She stuttered for a response, “I..don’t know what to say.. I mean”
‘Goodness, she’s starting to remind me of a certain kind hearted animal caretaker’ I thought to myself, ‘and speaking of kindness’
“Think of it as my way of formally thanking you for your boundless affability, and don’t even think about not accepting because I won’t take no for an answer on this” I spoke with complete sincerity.
She fidgeted in place a little longer before bowing her head and uttering a muted “Thank you” in response.
‘Yeah, I’m definitely getting that impression off of her’ I amusedly affirmed my audacious assumption.
“No problem, I feel as if it would serve a better purpose in your hands than mine. I’m told I tend to be somewhat tight fisted at times” I chuckled to myself at the memories.
“So I’ve been summoned to speak with the Princess” I said, changing the conversation to imminent matters and less impassioned ones.
“I was too. Shortly after you left, I was informed by one of her messengers and informed that Princ.. I mean Cadence” She corrected herself; probably by her majesty’s wishes, “wanted to speak to me”
“And what was the topic of the conversation?” I asked, having a pretty solid idea.
“It was about…well” She glanced at me, “...you, she wanted to know more about you”
“And what did you say to her?” I asked with utmost curiosity… and a tad bit of apprehension.
“I told her that you were a wonderful person with a good heart, always acting considerately to others and myself” She smiled at me, which I did my best to return.
“Did you tell her anything else?” I had to know what I was going to have to explain and what I didn’t.
“I told her that you were from a foreign land named America with the three branches of government you told me about, and all the incredible magic it possessed like laptops and airplanes” She said with a lingering modicum of awe in her voice.
“I’ve told you before Crystal, it isn’t magic in the slightest, its technology” I reminded her.
“To someone like me, such marvelous things could be nothing short of magic” She reasoned, I let the issue drop since I knew I wouldn’t convince her otherwise.
“You’re half right I guess… what with Clarke’s third law and all. Moving on, did anything else happen?”
“She wished to speak with you in person, but I told her you went off with your companions to find the Blizzard Beast earlier that day” She paused before asking me a question, “You said you wouldn’t be involved in the fighting, yet you were covered in blood. Did you hold true to you word?”
Crap, time for half-truths. “I indirectly helped out by incapacitating it (Permanently) and sawing off its claws; it’s a rather messy job as you could tell from earlier. I would be in a lot worst shape had I broken my word to you Crystal, that scaly thing was ferocious as hell.”
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. ‘Glad it ain’t Applejack interrogating me’ I thought with relief, imagining her glaring at me in suspicion. Thankfully it looked like she was convinced, hesitantly that is.
“I believe you Zenith, though I know there’s something you’re not telling me and I won’t press you. Because I know you’ll keep your promise” She said as she steepled her fingers on the table, visually reminding me of her insightful Mana Mark.
“Thank you for your understanding. How did her highness react to this news?” I turned the topic back to the Princess.
“She was worried for your safety of course! She said that if you made it back alive, she’d also have to congratulate you. Do you think she wants something of you?” She asked.
“Don’t know. She probably just wants to see me in person and talk. What about eludes me though” I shrugged and picked myself off of the chair.
“I should probably get going then, don’t want to keep her majesty waiting after all”
“Yes, it wouldn’t be proper to delay any longer. Prin… Cadence must have other matters to attend to besides speaking with you” She agreed.
She got up and hugged me once again, “Be on your best behavior okay Zenith?”
“I’ll be a perfect little angel. Scout’s honor” I held a hand up as if making a pledge. She giggled at my dramatics before leaving for her living room.
And with that, I returned upstairs to retrieve some things; namely my Tantō and a sack of bits in case I needed it, as well as my iPod in case I ever got bored. Plus some other ‘essentials’ as a contingency. Just because I was about to visit Royalty doesn’t mean I was going in completely exposed. I tied my sack of bits from my cloud clearing job to my side belt loop and slid my knife through another on my backside, ‘I need to get a legitimate holster for this sometime’ I walked out of Crystal’s house and down the avenue, making a beeline for the Crystal Citadel.
It was about midday when I reached the front of the Castle, its spires shimmering in the sunlight. ‘Walt Disney would be proud of this place. I still don’t know how the Sun can shine down on the Kingdom when the outside is completely overcast, but I’ll just chalk it up to some form of magic and leave it at that’ I took a moment to take in the vista, the ‘front’ of the Crystal Citadel had a balcony providing a near 180 degree overlook of the city below. The four ‘legs’ supporting the Citadel each had a stair cased entrance at their foundation, with a duo of guards posted at each. At the very base lay a spinning Crystal Heart floating between a long and thick crystal stalactite and a short and thin crystal stalagmite. This was setup on top of the snowflake emblem that represented the whole Kingdom.
A shimmering pulse every now and again sent a surge of colorful magical energy up through the citadel’s peak and into the climate barrier which encircled the entire kingdom. In a way it kind of reminded me of a heartbeat sending life giving blood where it needed to go, but maybe I’m just waxing poetic.
After mentally flipping a coin for which entrance to choose, I picked one at random and approached the guards stationed there. Unsurprisingly they were clad in a light blue crystal themed armor with snowflakes adorning their shoulder plates and rather Romanesque style helmets that covered most of their facial features, not that they were terribly expressive to begin with. They stood stock-still holding spears at their sides and were looking ahead with a thousand yard stare; despite this I knew it was only a superficial presentation and that these guys were ready to spring at a moment’s notice at the first sign of trouble. When I got closer, they crossed their spears together in a display that barred entry. I could certainly respect their dedication to the job, so long as they didn’t go out of their way to superfluously impede me from meeting with their Princess. I stopped a respectable distance away and politely addressed them.
“Excuse me good sirs, but I do believe that I was summoned by her Royal Highness to speak with her” They didn’t move, but their eyes shifted towards me in a simultaneous mechanical motion that many would find unnerving.
“State your name so that we may confirm that claim” The one of the left said in a gruff voice that I could tell wasn’t his real voice and was meant solely for intimidation purposes, needless to say I wasn’t at all impressed.
“It’s Zenith” I said in a tone that indicated as much, “I’m guessing you were told to be on the lookout for a Valkyrian with that name matching my description?”
They merely stared at me in response; it was starting to chip away at my patience.
“Look” I crossed my arms, “As much as I love staring contests, I don’t exactly have all day. So if you’re going to let me in, now is the time. Otherwise I’ll simply leave, it’s not like I wanted to go to this to begin with” I said impatiently and turned to leave, when I heard the scraping sound of metal signaling to me that the guards uncrossed their spears.
“You may enter, however I suggest leaving that testy attitude at the door” The one on the right said this time.
‘At least they didn’t try to frisk me or anything; they must have supreme confidence in their protective abilities, a magical metal detector, or they have really poor eyesight with those helmets on’ I inquisitively pondered at their lack of reaction to the knife strapped to my jeans. As for my rebuttal...
“Duly noted” I flippantly responded and walked past the narrowing eyes of the guards and up the steps and past the threshold of the doors. A spiral staircase leading up many flights was instantly there to greet me, "Great" I grumbled to myself and began to drag my lazy ass up them, a grueling two minutes later and I reached the first plateau.
It led out into a lovely looking hallway that stretched five doors down and into what I was guessing was the throne room. Before I could take my first step forward however, a young woman came up to greet me. She looked a few years older than me and had dark magenta hair with lighter shades as stripes and a blue Fleur-de-lis as a Mana Mark on her hands, which were currently holding a clipboard. She was also wearing one of those business vests and a patterned skirt that matched the colors of her eyes, a rich shade of blue.
“Hello there, I’m Indigo Jade and I’m one of her majesty’s Royal liaisons. Is there something I can assist you with?” She asked in a polite and formal tone.
“Yes, I was told that she requested an audience with me? I’m Zenith by the way” I introduced myself, giving a polite nod.
She flipped her clipboard back a few pages, probably searching for a reference regarding myself as being summoned. A quick nod told me that she found what she was looking for and she smiled back up at me.
“Indeed you are! However, her highness is currently in the middle of a discussion with her head of security. Would you mind relaxing in one of the waiting chambers until she can see you?” She courteously asked with that same pretty smile.
“I’ve got patience to spare for a lovely lady like yourself” I shamelessly teased, getting a giggle and a slight blush in response from Jade.
“Excellent! Right this way sir” She motioned me into one of the side rooms in the hallway.
It was a very large and swanky looking waiting room; its ceiling was about thirty feet high and gave it a very spacious feeling, windows carved into the walls also allowed great views of everything going on below. Plush looking couches with crystal framework were lined along the edges of the room with wooden coffee tables van-ward of them. I sat my keister down on one of them and resisted the urge to put my feet up on the table like it was an ottoman footrest. ‘The things I do for propriety’s sake’ I sighed in comfort as I sank into the seat.
“Before I inform her majesty of your arrival, is there anything I can get you? Perhaps a glass of wine or other refreshments?” Jade asked of me.
I shook my head, “I don’t imbibe, but thanks for the charitable offer” I offered a grateful grin in return. ‘I don’t even know what the drinking age is here’
“A prudent man I see, I can respect that. I’ll let her Majesty know you’re here”
And with that she did a heel face and promptly left me alone with my thoughts. Jade mentioned that the Princess was talking to her head of security; I wonder what the reasons for that were? I shrugged to myself and leaned back into the couch further, humming in sedentary contentment as the leather cushion enveloped me in its comfort. I briefly considered pulling out my iPod and listening to some tunes but decided against it, I needed to keep my ears open and anyone spotting me with it would start asking irksome questions.
After about twenty or so minutes of waiting I was starting to get close to nodding off when I heard the door to the room open and someone step inside, the clacking sound of heels against the smooth floor echoing in the large room. I decided to feign being asleep just to see if it was someone else other than the Princess, that and I like to screw with people whenever I get the chance. Based on the sound of the approaching footsteps, I surmised that it was indeed a woman wearing low heeled shoes.
“Goodness, I must have kept him waiting longer than I thought” A youthful yet melodic voice spoke, without a doubt I recognized it as the Princess.
“Just shy of dreamland your highness” I opened my eyes to see the admittedly funny sight of Cadence yelping and jumping back in surprise.
Once she collected herself, she gave me a fake disapproving glare before breaking into soft giggles. I took that time to reluctantly remove myself from the incredibly soft couch and stand up before her. The Princess was an eye catching woman of prominent stature wearing a simple pink dress with light purple arm sleeves and golden royal regalia around her neck and atop her head; she also had an amethyst bindi on her forehead. She had lavender eyes and tri-colored hair consisting of blond, pink and purple which strangely reminded me of a mixed flavored gelato. On her hands was the Mana Mark of a crystal heart not unlike the one at the entrance. She must have had her wings dispelled because I didn’t see any on her back.
“It’s been a while since someone has managed to get a jump out of me, I’m Princess Cadence” She gave a brief curtsy to which I crooked my head forward in a slight inclination while keeping my eyes connected with her own. She seemed to notice this and voiced her thoughts.
“You know, it’s very rare to meet one of my subjects who does not fully prostrate themselves in my presence” She looked somewhat pleased with this despite the impertinent implications.
“That’s probably because I’m not actually one of your subjects your eminence. Where I come from, we show Royalty their proper respect but never complete obeisance” I explained, being the freedom loving American I am.
“Ah yes, I find it quite refreshing actually. No matter how often I tell my subjects to simply refer to me as Cadence, they always seem to revert back to full reverence the very next day. They venerate the Royal family in the absolute highest it seems, it makes friendship with them…difficult” She looked slightly disconsolate, as though the issue had been afflicting her for some time.
“I’ve noticed, in fact my caretaker Crystal Clear had to correct her designations mid-sentence when speaking of you. You won’t have that kind of problem with me your Highness, or do you prefer Cadence?” I grinned at her, which she happily returned.
“The latter please, though I wouldn’t call it a problem so much as I would an obstacle” She motioned with her hand for me to follow her, “Walk with me, this isn’t a discussion I wish to have in a waiting chamber” I obliged and followed her out into the scintillating crystal hallway once again, we were most likely heading to the throne room based on the closing distance between us and said room.
I wasn’t wrong; though the throne room wasn’t all that impressive if you ask me. The throne itself consisted almost entirely of crystals with only the royal seat itself and the rug leading to it being composed of something otherwise. Crystal columns rose dozens of feet high and lined the walls of the circular chamber. While I was becoming surfeited with the constant crystal construction constituting clearly everything here, I did believe that the snowflake banners hanging from the ceiling just above the dark blue polyhedrons and smooth silk curtains draping the balustrades below those polyhedrons were a nice touch though.
While I was occupied with taking in the details of the royal chamber, Cadence walked up to her throne and sat down, resting her hands in her lap and giving me a blank unreadable expression.
Finally she spoke, “Before we begin our discourse, do you mind if I make certain of a few things?”
“Of course, that’s why you summoned me here to begin with right?” I said in a compliant tone.
“Partially. Your cooperation is also appreciated, just give me a moment” She shut her eyes and the amethyst bindi on her forehead started to emit a faint glow. I didn’t feel anything and nothing else seemed to change, at least from what I observed. When the gem on her forehead stopped glowing and she opened her eyes again, she retained her unreadable expression but something in her eyes betrayed barely hidden bemusement. She recovered fairly quickly though and looked at me once again and spoke. This time her tone peculiar, as if she came across a strange conundrum.
“You’re a curious one indeed, certainly no changeling” The last aspect in that sentence caused me to scoff amusedly at the ludicrous idea.
“Changeling? It takes more than magic to replicate this sheer amount of sexy” I struck a pose with my hands on my hips, I totally meant it too.
Her poker face lasted all of three seconds before crumbling into mirthful laughter, a delightful sound coming from an equally delightful woman. The fact that I was still standing there in all seriousness only served to further her glee. ‘I hope she’s not laughing at me, I don’t think my poor hubris could take it’ When she finally composed herself she gave me a winning smile.
“I can tell that you’re going to make some woman very happy someday” She said knowingly.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, so anything else you wish to clear up?” I asked, her last sentence putting me at unease for some reason.
“I wish to know more about yourself and your arrival to my kingdom, Crystal only told me what you told her. And I haven’t been able to discern anything else other than that you tried to taste the flavor of clouds”
“Oh” I chuckled nervously and shuffled in place, “You saw that huh?” ‘I knew I was being watched!’
She giggled well naturedly, “I actually came upon that by chance when passing the throne room balcony” She pointed to it, before leaning in holding her hand up in a conspiratorial manner and speaking in hushed tones “And between you and me, I did the same the first time I interacted with clouds”
“And here I was thinking I was the only person who wondered what clouds tasted like” I chuckled to myself, a notion Cadence shared.
“Is what I tell you confidential?” I asked, to which she slowly nodded.
“Unless it concerns the personal safety of my subjects, then this strictly between us” I tilted my head in a way that indicated my understanding.
“Very well, as you know. I come from a land known as America, you’ve not heard of it yes?” She shook her head, “That’s because it's worlds away” I clarified, getting an uncomprehending look from Cadence.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand, are you not from the neighboring sovereignties?” She asked with a stupefied expression.
“I’m from a land that’s as physically removed from this place as you are from your own reflection in a mirror” I explained. It dawned on me that I was an inter-dimensional foreigner explaining the theory of parallel worlds to a magical Princess of Love, the oddity of the situation was not lost on me.
I don’t think she fully understood the significance of what I was telling her but she nodded and spoke.
“I take it you don’t have your travel papers then?” She rhetorically asked.
“Sorry, I left my passport back in my home dimension” I shrugged apologetically.
She sighed and rubbed her temples, the immensity of this clearly beyond her sphere of influence.
“Well that simply won’t do, if you’re to be living in Arcania you’ll need official ipseity. That means one of two things, you go through a long and arduous process riddled with paperwork to become a citizen, or you do me a personal favor and assist in the recovery of something which has been recently stolen and I’ll waive the paperwork process with a Royal mandate”
‘I guess one of the benefits of being Royalty is elastic power over the bureaucracy’ I didn’t even give the choice any thought.
“I’d rather face down the legions of hell… than put up with toilsome paperwork” I portentously stated. She chuckled at my histrionics.
“Hopefully you won’t have to do anything so harrowing, but the stolen item in question is of severe importance”
“What makes it so important?” I inquired.
“It’s the legendary Crystal Chalice of King Sombra” She said as if that would explain everything.
“Given that ninety-five percent of everything in this Kingdom is crystalline in nature, I’m going to need to know more than that” I articulated with a roll of my hands.
“The Crystal Chalice was carved out of a very rare and incredibly mysterious enchanted gemstone that could concentrate magical energies to unfathomable levels, when filled with the fabled waters of life it could make anyone who drank of it both immortal and very powerful. We believe that’s how Sombra originally ascended to rule as King over the Krystal People”
“Knowing what they say about the corruptive allure of power, I’m guessing he ventured well beyond the point of no return afterwards” I postulated.
“You assume correctly, Sombra already had dark intentions in his heart when he sought the throne. But drinking of the chalice and absorbing all that power turned him into a complete monster, the days of King Sombra’s rule truly were a blight upon this Kingdom’s marvelous history. It took the combined might of both my dear aunties; the solar and lunar diarchs to banish him into the frozen ice of the arctic north. As you can imagine, if the chalice were to fall into the wrong hands it could prove detrimental” She ended on a grim note.
“Can you tell me about the circumstances regarding the pilfering of this ‘Crystal Chalice’?” I channeled my inner Cole Phelps, minus the notepad and expert sketching skills.
“I just finished speaking to my head of security about that; whoever committed this crime is both prepared and ruthless in their pursuit of this artifact’s magical properties, and not afraid to use violence to get what they want. The guards I had stationed at the vault repository beneath this Citadel; which stores valuable antiquities such as the Chalice were found earlier this morning badly beaten and bleeding heavily, their wounds could have been fatal if they weren’t wearing their armor” She concluded morosely, the well-being of her personal entourage must have weighed heavily on her mind. I decided to continue my inquiry in order to draw her attention away from that sorrowing subject.
“Did they take anything else besides the Chalice?” I also needed to know more if I was to be fully aware of the situation inevitably drawing me into it.
“Yes, they also took Sombra’s encrypted manuscripts referencing anything else about the Chalice. It would require an esoteric old codex that Sombra did not keep in this Kingdom to decipher those texts” The Princess explained.
“And you have the faintest idea who might have done this?” I rhetorically asked.
“No… we do not know; they hid any trace of their involvement. Sans my badly battered guards” She gloomily spoke.
“I have a hunch who it might be” A soft yet unmistakably familiar tomboyish new voice interjected.
I turned to behold this newcomer and spotted a tanned woman leaning against the doorway to the throne room. She had raspberry red eyes and was wearing a dark olivine pocketed vest strung with venturing gear and brown khaki pants with knee high laced boots. She had gray scaled hair and was wearing a distinguishable pith helmet, along with a self-confident smirk on her face and a bullwhip on her waist. The Mana Mark of a compass rose adorned her hands. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind but the most dominant of these was, ‘Holy Shit! It’s Daring Do!’
Of all the people I expected to randomly show up, Daring Do wasn’t terribly high on the list. Of course, I should have seen it coming; all this talk about a powerful artifact being stolen by somebody who more than likely wanted it for their own nefarious purposes and an intrepid adventurer like Daring was bound to show up. Being the genre savvy meta-master I am, I could take a good guess as to where this was going.
“I’m sorry; I wasn’t expecting anyone else at the citadel today. Who might you be?” Cadence politely asked, despite our visitor’s impromptu interruption.
‘Cadence doesn’t know who Daring Do is?’
“You don’t know who I am!?” Daring exclaimed as though she were insulted.
I decided to defuse the situation lest it become some kind of shouting match, something the Princess would win anyway; the Royal caps lock and all.
“I know who she is. She’s Daring Do; famed explorer and purveyor of ancient and abstruse artifacts. I believe she has a book series detailing her adventures” I explained for her uninformed highness.
‘A fictional series inside of a fictional show, oh the irony of my situation’
Before I could ruminate further on the similarities between the Daring series and the itchy and scratchy series story within a story, she spoke in a mollified tone.
“Good to know I still have fans even this far north. And feel free to add extraordinaire to all those titles” Daring somewhat pompously ended her statement as she left her spot by the chamber entrance and stood near me by the foot of the Crystal throne.
“However, I wouldn’t call them adventures so much as complicated expeditions” She clarified, giving me a dismissive passing glance.
The Princess expressed her apologies, “Forgive my ignorance; I hardly have time for much reading at my leisure these days. Although I must ask as to the reasons of your presence here” She stated in a commanding tone.
‘Apologetic one moment and authoritative the next. Gotta hand it to her, this Princess does not frivolously prolong the pleasantries’ I thought with approbation, believing that having a firm hand in matters is best.
“Thought you might ask that, it’s why I brought this” Daring reached into her left chest pocket and took out a palm sized medallion that she casually tossed to the Princess.
“I’m here on the authority of the Concordia Institute of Archaeology tracking a nemesis of mine who managed to reach that codex you mentioned earlier before I did. I figured with that information, this was the next place he would go. Lo and behold, he managed to nab the Chalice too” She concluded by gesturing with her hands in a sweeping motion.
“Just how much of our conversation did you eavesdrop in on?” I asked, feeling perturbed.
“Enough to know confirm my suspicions of my counterpart’s next move” She sighed in minute exasperation while crossing her arms.
The Princess listened attentively while she examined the official seal she caught with her levitation. Seeing telekinesis for the first time was pretty cool, even if the object lifted was encompassed in an overly feminine pink aura. I felt a miniscule pang of jealously of not being able to emulate such a simple yet marvelous feat of magic. I shoved such thoughts to the back of my mind in order to hear what the Princess had to say in response to Daring’s reasons for her appearance in her Kingdom.
“So you’re the agent the C.I.A informed me would assist in this matter” Cadence said as she levitated the seal back to the grizzled explorer.
I did my best to stifle a chuckle at that, seeing the irony of this world’s Indiana Jones working for the C.I.A; this land never ceases to find ways to amuse me.
“Zenith” I snapped out of my little mental soiree just as the Princess directed her focus on me, “Since you so graciously decided to aid in returning the lost Chalice, you will be working alongside Miss Daring Do. Listen to what she says and keep each other safe” She instructed.
“Woah woah woah!” Daring exclaimed, “With respect, I work best alone your highness. He’ll just slow me down” She pointed a thumb in my direction like I was dead weight.
I expressed my disdain automatically, “What am I? Chopped Liver? I just got back from slaying a freakin’ snow dragon! I am not some otaku who’s been sheltered from danger his entire life!
“Otaku?” They both asked in confusion at my outburst, befuddled by the foreign word.
“It’s derogatory slang for a homebody” I seethed through gritted teeth. ‘I am SO much more proactive than that!’
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for that, you managed to lessen my burden and excise a threat to my kingdom and for that I am most grateful” Cadence spoke in a reconciliatory tone whilst holding a hand to her rather fulsome chest. ‘Whoa there champ! Not safe for work!’
The Princess then shifted back to Daring, “I understand that you prefer doing most of your work solo Miss Do…”
“Call me Daring, Miss Do is too formal for my blood” Daring interrupted brusquely, to which Cadence nodded and continued.
“…Very well Daring. But Zenith here has agreed to help retrieve the stolen chalice as a personal favor to me; I therefore believe his chances are best with you. Furthermore, as a Valkyrian I assure you he can keep up the pace” The Princess keenly pointed out.
At that Daring adopted a relatively sheepish look on her face, “He might actually be faster than that your highness. You see… I might have taken a crossbolt to my right shoulder blade on my last journey; the Marabian Sultan doesn’t care for intruders in his private library” She gave us a knowingly false simper while she rubbed at her shoulder; wincing as she hit a tender spot, “So my own wings will be out of commission for a while until that fully heals”
I had read about that, turns out that a Valkyrian’s innate connection to their wings can be physically disrupted by severe injury. Particularly the parts of the body where the wings themselves are projected, such as the shoulder blades. As such, a Valkyrian’s shoulders are rather sensitive to the touch; I knew mine were.
“So I might be able to offset that significant disadvantage. Not so useless now am I?” I gave Daring my best impression of that one iconic SpongeBob face.
“I didn’t know you were Skyborn!” Daring said defensively, “What self-respecting Valkyrian keeps his perfectly good wings dispelled anyway?” She asked with some frustration evident in her voice.
Another thing about the Valkyrian people is that they tend to be very proud of displaying their wings. So social wise, a Valkyrian keeping their wings hidden is often seen as being ashamed of their gift by other Valkyrians. A bit of foolish pride I know, perhaps it’s one of the reasons the Skyborn clan historically had such good ties with the Griffin Kingdom overseas. I liked my wings just fine, but I had my reasons for keeping them concealed. I decided to make them known to the hotheaded trailblazer.
“I keep my wings dispelled because I don’t like the attention they attract in an almost entirely agrarian kingdom; it makes me feel like some kind of novelty” ‘That and I prefer anonymity’ I thought on the side.
“I understand that sentiment completely” The Princess added her two cents (or is it bits?) “I also feel as if my wings distance me from my subjects. I want to be seen as one of them and not just as their ruler. If that means keeping myself visually indistinct from them, then so be it”
“I guess I can understand that when you put it that way, but I don’t mind the limelight myself” Daring sighed and folded her arms once more, “Fine, you can tag along. Just don’t expect me to pull your ass out of the fire if this thing goes to hell in a hand basket, which it usually does” She grumbled the last two parts.
‘That makes one of us I guess’ I mentally groaned, ‘When did life get so contentious?’
“Then it’s settled! I suggest conducting your search in the vault where the chalice was stolen” The Princess rose and descended the steps from her throne.
“Mind showing us the way?” I asked, receiving a cheeky grin from Cadence.
“You’re standing on it” I merely raised my brow in curiosity.
“Stand aside please”
We complied and side strafed a few steps while Cadence stood facing the foot of the throne and concentrated. As she did so, I saw purple ghost like wisps protrude from her eyes and the light around her face darken considerably. She elevated a finger and pointed it at the main crystal jutting out of the stalagmite constituting the base of the throne chair. A surge of bona fide dark magic sprang forth from her index, zapping the crystal and turning it from lavender purple into a shady black. A shadow then proceeded to cast itself over the floor in front of the throne, revealing a hidden staircase which spiraled into the depths beneath the citadel.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot about that’
Once Cadence had finished casting the spell, she wobbled to a degree and put a hand to her forehead. As if casting the spell gave her a headache, which I didn’t doubt.
“Ugh, I abhor having to use that dreadful spell. But alas, it’s the only way to gain direct entry to the lower levels of Sombra’s underground keep” She lamented.
“Why not change it?” Daring questioned.
“It only costs one momentary migraine as a toll. I’ve contemplated having the Concordian gateway mages look into solutions for fixing the arcane mechanism tethered to the throne’s cornerstone, but I seldom have need for anyone besides some of my guards to be stationed there. And the Concordian gateway mages are surprisingly encumbered with demand for their delicate and precise work”
The Princess must have become aware of my analyzing stare, “Is something wrong Zenith?” She asked.
“Should I be concerned that even the fabled Princess of Love has the darkness in her heart necessary to cast such a spell?”
The look she gave me was one of slight melancholy, “Everyone has a little darkness in them Zenith, even us Princesses” She then took on a resolute tone, “But it’s the resistance of that darkness on a daily basis that helps us grow as people and shows that we have the strength of character and moral integrity to do what’s right”
“There’s beauty in the broken” I whispered to myself, my respect for Cadence increased tenfold.
“Thanks for imparting that sappy piece of wisdom on us, but I’d like to get down there already. Don’t stray behind new guy” Without further adieu, Daring began trekking down the spiraling stairs. I was about to follow her when the Princess stopped me with a raised hand.
“One last thing Zenith, in case any of my guards impede you the clearance words are falling stars. And beware any questionable doorways you might encounter down in the depths, most are insidious trapdoors commissioned by Sombra to ensnare intruders and force them to face their worst fears” She ominously concluded her monologue.
I nodded to her, “Trapdoors, got it. Will we be the only ones looking for your lost chalice?”
“I’m afraid I can’t spare you any aid if that’s what you’re asking. With the Arcanian Athletic events coming up, most of my personnel are tied up with providing supervision over the preparations. My beloved husband Shining Armor is training the Crystal Kingdom’s athletic team himself. I apologize, but the most I can do is forewarn you of the dangers you might face” She articulated pensively.
“That’s quite alright, danger only makes things more fun” I gave her a roguish grin and spun around before she could formulate a response to my cocky remark.
I approached the edge of the stairs and peered down the chasm, spotting Daring rapidly increasing the distance between us. The column of space surrounded by the steps looked wide enough for me to drop down and avoid having to play catch up with the audacious adventurer. ‘A bit gutsy, but quick’ Summoning my wings, I promptly pencil dived into the breach; falling a few good floors before using my wings to slow my swift descent. I was silently grateful that my wings were intangible as they brushed through the stony steps on my way down, causing a buzzing feeling to permeate my shoulders. I landed on a set of steps several meters below Daring, so I waited patiently for her leaning on the edge of the wall looking smug. When she finally came round, I couldn’t help but call her out on her earlier comment.
“What was it you said before? Something about me slowing you down?” I said in my best troll worthy voice. She just scowled in annoyance.
“Shaddup, I already admitted that you could keep up” She brushed past me impatiently.
“Fair enough” I shrugged and shimmied down after her. ‘You jelly slowpoke?’
I was curious about her previous journey comment, “You mentioned getting nailed in the back by a crossbolt after trespassing in some Sultan’s private library, mind elaborating on that?”
“What about it?” She snapped irritably, if she was going to be testy then I could snark right back.
“What you were doing there to begin with would be a nice place to start”
She huffed in aggravation before giving in, “Fine, remember the codex earlier that my nemesis got to before I did? Ages ago, the wicked King Sombra had it sent away on a caravan heading to sandier regions where he thought no one else could discover the secret to his power and threaten his rule. After exchanging many hands throughout time, the Sultan of the Marabian province managed to acquire it himself and had it stashed in his private collection. I was going to ‘retrieve’ it for the institute but my nemesis tipped the Sultan off and guards burst in before I could get my hands on it. He used the commotion to nab it for himself and I got an arrow in the back for my trouble” She ended bitterly.
“Tough break, at least you didn’t take it to the knee; otherwise your adventuring days would be over” I just couldn’t resist; she left me an opening for that shameless reference.
She stopped suddenly and whipped around with a disbelieving face and a flat, “What?”
“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it” I elaborated.
She gave me a venomous look in response, “You think what happened to me was funny? A codex of dangerous secrets that leads to an unimaginable source of power that can give its benefactor immortal life in the hands of an already powerful megalomaniacal bastard is a joke to you?” She was glaring daggers at me by that point.
I held my hands up in a placating manner, “I meant no offense! Can you blame a guy for trying to lighten the mood?”
I could have sworn that she growled in agitation before rolling her eyes and continuing downwards, a rather awkward silence ensuing shortly thereafter. Not wanting to provoke Daring any further, I kept to myself for the rest of our flight down the constant stairs.
‘Geez, Daring is grouchier than I thought she’d be’ I internally groused.
Once we reached the bottom of the stairs (finally!) we happened across a set of three visually indiscernible wooden doors with circular iron ring latches. I would’ve started fretting over which was a trapdoor, if not for the duo of guards standing statically at the first and foremost door demanding my immediate attention. Once they spotted us, they tensed visibly before the one on the left announced in the usual authoritative tone I’ve come to expect from them.
“Halt! State your purpose and clearance or be persecuted!”
“Clearance? What clearance? Don’t you know who I am?” Daring stated with disgruntlement, a dismayed scowl plastered on her face, “I’m Daring Do! Famous Archeologist and adventurer the world over! I’ve catalogued hundreds of unknown historical and magical pieces from long since passed civilizations, not to mention flora and fauna, architecture, even exotic liquors! I even have my own book series! I’ve got more swag in my left middle finger than you have in your whole bodies!” She finished with gratuitous amounts of pride and gave them the one finger salute.
‘Not the greatest verbal tirade I’ve ever heard, but pretty good’ I thought, recalling the infamous lemon rant by Cave Johnson.
The guards for their part looked unimpressed and even slightly miffed at Daring’s defiant gesture. Bristling in anger and aggression, the guard spoke again.
“I wouldn’t care if you were the Sun Monarch herself, no one passes by us without clearance. Now speak the words or prepare to face the wrath of the Royal Guard!”
As he ended that sentence, they both lowered themselves and their spears antagonistically towards us. Daring looked like she was about to say something else perilously arrogant but I cut her off before she could do any more damage.
“Cease and desist! It’s Falling Stars, that good enough for you?” I said in my most conciliatory voice.
The guards immediately relaxed their postures and raised their spears back into a standing position. Though they still kept their piercing gaze trained on us both.
“Hey, how’d you know the passwords?” Daring asked in a peeved tone. I gave her a deadpan look in return.
“The Princess told me, maybe if you were a little less foolhardy and a little more patient instead of just rushing headlong into things you’d have heard it too” I chided the headstrong woman.
She just adopted that usual scowl and muttered something very impolite under her breath. Focusing on the task at hand, I concentrated back on the guards who were still eyeing us warily.
“So… we’re here about a stolen powerful and enigmatic artifact? My ‘partner’ here works for the C.I.A” I still had to stifle a guffaw at that, “And Princess Cadence has me assisting her in its return, so if you nice gentlemen could point us to the repository where the glorified antique was taken, that’d be great” I gave my tone a mix of sarcasm and sincerity, I have to say that I pulled it off pretty well too.
They stepped aside and the one on the right opened the door up for us, “Through here, and don’t touch anything!” He irately amended.
“Many thanks, you gents have a nice day” I tipped my imaginary yet no less awesome hat to them and proceeded past the threshold.
What greeted my eyes was quite the sight, glistening gold, gems and other shinies’ everywhere. Countless remnants and heirlooms from a Kingdom a thousand years removed from the timeline were piled somewhat haphazardly atop one another in a way more reminiscent of a treasury than a historical repository. I heard a rather girly squeak of excitement behind me as Daring just about flew past me to examine everything she could get her hands on. I expected the guards to admonish us severely any second, but apparently they decided to stick to their jobs of being door decorations.
“You must get quite the lady boner off history huh?” I dryly remarked at Daring's borderline nerdish antics.
Either Daring hadn’t heard me or was ignoring me, too busy geeking out over some garish looking platinum crown to give little ol’ me any love. Instead she was pretty much talking to herself about how incredible some of the pieces were and how she was waiting for a chance to see Krystal Era jewelry forever.
“I can’t believe I’m actually holding the late Princess Platinum’s crown! This relic has so many stories told about it! Wearing it to the diplomatic summit of the three clans was supposed to be a showcase of the Stellar Magi’s amassed wealth to cow the other clans into submission, only it caused the other two clan’s leaders to become angered at the Princess’s haughty attitude and further alienated the clans to each other. So much Arcanian history and I’m holding it in the palms of my hands! I wonder if they kept her cape in here too…”
‘I thought that crown sorta looked familiar’ I mentally shrugged at my oversight.
Shaking myself from my ruminations I decided to let Daring lose herself in her own monologue and have a look around myself. Beyond the priceless bits of local history stored here, the rest of the room wasn’t all that attention grabbing or worth describing, the walls and floor were the same ugly coal black as the stairwell coming down. There was however a portion of the room where things were overturned and what looked like the visual remnants of a scuffle that took place. I advanced towards it cautiously, staying mentally alert to any important details that might present themselves. All the while channeling my inner crime scene detective; Phelps or Sherlock, take your pick.
‘Okay, so disregarding the bloodstains since I don’t have any access to DNA analyzing equipment and these people are probably behind in that particular field of criminal science; this seems to be a blunt smash and grab job. Things have been tossed aside, whether from the preliminary struggle or subsequent search is irrelevant. The Chalice must have been held in this shattered cast iron lockbox with the goblet sized indention in the black satin material… and what’s this?’
Noticing a mottled and obviously old piece of parchment lying on the floor next to the broken lockbox, I stooped down to pick it up. It looked like it was hastily torn from a book; I hypothesized and quickly ascertained that it was from the stolen codex. ‘Well that was simple; whoever did this must have dropped it in a hurry’
On its worn surface was this cryptic passage:
If eternal life is what you seek; then prove your mettle to be more than meek
If your fears you cannot greet; then death you shall never cheat
Pass through the darkened doors to enlightenment; or else abandon your dreams of eternal entitlement
Those with pure intentions will succeed; those with greed should pay heed
This task can make the strongest break; the one from beyond, the very earth shake
‘I’m not sure I like where this is going…’ I gloomily thought, foreseeing the implications.
“Whatcha got there?” Daring suddenly appeared and snatched the foreboding paper out of my hands.
“Hmm… looks like we gotta pass through some subliminal doorways to reach where we have to be next” Daring deftly deduced.
“Thanks Co-Captain obvious” I snidely remarked, totally impressed with her ability to draw simple conclusions after I had already done so.
“You’re welcome! C’mon, let’s get a move on” Daring completely subverted my sarcasm by acting cavalier. It’s possible that she’s already getting used to my mannerisms.
“Do you actually know what it is we’re looking for?” I doubtfully asked as we walked to the exit leading back to the stairway vestibule.
“Besides the Chalice and the jackhole who stole it? I don’t know, some kinda doorway?” She guessed with a shrug.
“Not just any doorway, Sombra’s mental trapdoors. The kind the Princess informed me forces people to face their worst fears, another tidbit of information you missed with your disregarding gung ho nature” I exasperatedly corrected.
“Guess that’s why I have you. You can copy down the trivial details for me while I kick ass and look damn good doing it” She immodestly boasted.
‘She’s starting to remind me of a certain rainbow haired girl every minute I’m stuck with her. I wonder if they’re distantly related?’ I inquisitively pondered.
“Wow… was that an almost compliment I heard?” I playfully bantered.
“Almost? I’m most definitely the best at being good and looking good!” She shot back with no small amount of pride.
“Don’t forget the best at being modest” I added with an alleviated sigh, this exchange did a little bit to take my mind away from the upcoming event I knew I was going to despise.
We soon were back in the rotunda and curiously, the guards from before were no longer there. I just brushed it off as the time interval between the changing of the guard. ‘Less nagging either way, I like to lollygag’ I mentally chuckled at my repeated Skyrim references. There were still two doors we still haven’t opened as of yet, and I was debating internally which could be the one that would lead us to where we had to go next. As I made note of before, the doors were visually indistinguishable from each other.
“You know what? Screw it… let’s just each try a door and see where it leads. If it’s the one we want, great. If it ain’t… then no harm no foul right?” Somehow I knew I was going to regret saying that.
“Sounds good to me. Whenever I work with mystery doors I just pick whatever till’ I find the right one” She replied with a noncommittal shrug. ‘Wow… a true professional’
She then proceeded to select the one on the left facing the repository door. Leaving me with the one on the right, my mind was already working overtime trying to process just what lay on the other side. Things from the downright sinister to the unexpectedly mundane raged through my mind like a pack of angry ferrets. ‘You know what? I’m stressing this WAY too much, just open the damn door’
And so I did, I could not decide if what met my vision was a disappointment or something to lure me into a false sense of security. It was pitch black nothingness… kind of eerie in a way. But I hate jump scares more than Markiplier loves reviewing them, so it was a welcome relief to me. I walked a few paces forward before I heard the door slam shut behind me and the light pouring in from the rotunda’s torches go out. ‘Yep, should have seen that coming’ Digging into my pocket I fished out my IPod, intent on using the fluorescence from the screen to light my way. Before I could turn it on though, I heard a brisk scuttling sound seemingly come from all directions around me. Muttering a brusque invective to myself, I hastily switched it on and held it in front of myself. Needless to say I wasn’t at all happy with what awaited me.
Eyes… clusters and clusters of them reflected my image with their black soulless gleam. But that wasn’t the worst part no; the worst part was that those eyes were attached to FRIGGIN GINORMOUS SPIDERS! Did I mention that I was slightly arachnophobic? Well actually I’m terrified of them, especially the freakishly huge ones! To that day I have never done quite the impression of the goofy holler as I did then. I took off faster than greased lightning in the opposite direction, praying that the door would still be there. Turns out it wasn’t, I was going to face this fear whether I wanted to or not. So I kept running like all hell was chasing me; which was not far from the truth to me. All the while a string of rather creative curses were flowing through my mind, ‘…Sweet jumping Jesus on a pogo stick! Holy crap on a cracker! Cockalorum snollygoster lickspittle!… ’ You get the point.
I didn’t know where I was running to, but anywhere was better than sticking around with those spindly leg sacks of pure evil! Unfortunately there appeared to be a boundary to this horrific happenstance and I was backed into a corner. I held my IPod in a death grip, the flashlight app casting the cursed eight legged freaks in a looming light. My undesired company slowly and menacingly closing in, their fangs clicking and dripping with venom as they shifted them hungrily. Even more were rappelling in from above, shimmying down from their nasty web globules. ‘Oh what I wouldn’t give to have a giant can of Raid right now!’ Oddly enough, a bottle of what appeared to be insecticide literally poofed into existence and fell into my open hand.
I quickly glanced at the label, which read: Nuclear Strength Arachnid Annihilator, now with fresh floral scent!
Shrugging off my suspension of disbelief, I shook the can and took aim. Squeezing the nozzle trigger with all I had, a cloud of absolutely vicious looking gas tore into the ranks of the eight legged horde. Causing them to shriek in what I hoped was sheer agony and doing what I could only describe as Riverdance without the shoes before dissolving into gross looking puddles of goop on the floor. As the can of gaseous death emptied itself, it dematerialized in a vaguely Tron like fashion. I took a deep breath through my nostrils, mollified that this particular tribulation was over. ‘Ahhh… I love the smell of jasmine in the morning, it smells like victory’ I thought in my best Kilgore voice. Hearing the creaking sound of a door opening, I peered behind me to spot an entryway that wasn’t there previously. Mentally high fiving myself, I scooted myself through the near blinding light only for it to disperse and reveal…
Another door….I won’t mention what I hollered at the top of my lungs but I’ll give you a clue, it rhymes with a drawn out duck. After about ten seconds of complete RAGE, I had cooled down enough to tempestuously see what horrors lay behind door number two as I gently pulled at the latch. A large meadow of grass and flowers awaited me this time; I nervously walked inside and… of course the door immediately shut and disappeared behind me. ‘What’s going to go wrong this time?’ I exhaustively bemoaned. Taking in my new surroundings I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by a strong sense of nostalgia. ‘I’ve… seen this place before’
Bulbous looking trees just shy of fully shrouding from view a castle made of white stones and red brick tiles. A stained glass mural depicting a familiar Princess positively glimmering in the sunlight adorned the forefront of the castle. Feeling a little more confident in such a comforting setting, I cautiously drew closer. Hearing the joyous racket of laughter as I approached…and came across a duo whom I instantly recognized. It was that plumber man Mario and his number one damsel Peach having a picnic! I was about to get their attention by politely greeting them when I abruptly stopped myself. Giving the situation some serious thought, ‘No matter what I say I’m probably just going to end up sticking my foot in my mouth and setting off the horror fantasy, so why not enjoy it a little? It’s not like a chance like this will ever present itself again. Let’s get Ornery!’ I grinned maniacally and rubbed my palms together as I prepared to give the two the roasting of a lifetime.
‘Systems check, all systems go. Running wisecrack diagnostics… wisecracking computation module online. Smart ass mode engaged’
“Hey you! With the overdone dirty sanchez on your lip!” That got his attention.
“How is that your bimbo of a girlfriend puts up with you? I hear that she secretly thinks that your fun times together are like holding down the B button the whole way! Then again, I can’t really blame you. If I was high on mushrooms every day of the week and wearing that creepy ass furry costume, I’d be pretty unfocused myself!”
“And you!” I concentrated my burning ire on a bewildered Peach, “What is with you and getting constantly kidnapped by that pathetic excuse of an overgrown turtle? Do you get off on Stockholm syndrome or something? He’s like a single father of eight! Don’t you know he only wants you for your ludicrous amounts of money? Sounds like a gold digger to me! Don’t even get me started on the blonde jokes specifically about you! And where was that cake I was promised in the nineties? You made my childhood an absolute lie you lying, manipulative, bombshell of a floozy skank!”
I finished my rant and was heaving and puffing like an overweight man on a step mill with a juicy steak held in front of him on a candy string. ‘Cripes that’s such good stress therapy! I really needed to let out all that pressure I’ve accumulated lately’
“Well…” Began the demure voice of Peach, “We didn’t bring any cake with us, so how about we bake you one?”
“B̩̹ͬ̄ļ̰͉̖̗̭̰̻̫͉̍óͦ͏͏҉̭͔͇o͇͖̞̩̦̤̺̱̘̿͗̈́͛̚͢͝d͍̮̈̍͡ ̵̡͎̗ͫ̐ͭ̒͜F͖͕̩̩͉̟̳̋̊́͞ͅl̛̼͚̫̦̘̳̊̈̑͂́̓͊ͪ͆͠a̜̘͉͎̼̠͚̓̒͋ͣͣ̋̌̕͜v̱͕͈̺̆̆ͨ͊̊͑ͥo̘̜͔͊̑̑r̨͍̰̘͇̾͐͐ͨ͜è̪̦̯̥͔͔̄ͫͣ̈̔͋̿́ͅd̺̼̖̻͍ͪ̅́̓!̧͚̼̟ͦ̓̈́́ͭ̔̐̒” She screeched.
Peaches voice pitch became demonic as her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks and took on a crimson shade with her eyes turning jet black. Her teeth became tiny and razor sharp like that of a piranha. The same thing happened to Mario who suddenly held a knife in his hands as he and Peach sauntered closer to me. They looked utterly wicked, and not in the cool way either.
“L͍̣̙̬̫̖ͭͯ̓̑͋ͭeͥ̅ͩ̏̋ͥ҉̝̜̣̕ẗ̢̧̡̪ͫ͗̓̽̌̎'̻̞̖͚ͯͮ̉ͥͭ̽͐̑͐́͡š̪̘͂ͧ̾͟ȁ͗͐ͬ̉͑҉̪̥̩͖͜ ̼̬̪̹̯͓̮̬ͬ̌ͅg͇̺̭ͫ̃̐ͨ͌ȅ͎̤̤̺͚̹͎ͤ͋ͨ̿͋ͩ̚t͕̙͚̽̌ͤͩͣ̑̚͘ ̸̨̮̈́͆̃͑ͥ̓̽̐b̘͓̮̜͇̦ͪͫͩ̕͝a̵̡̱͔̦̲̬̝͇̣ͥ̾̽̿̀k̩̺̰̮͚͌́ͬ͌̏̒̔ͨ̏̀ȉ̷̳̬̘̖͖͔ͬ̔̑̋̏ͥ́ͫn̳̯͆̐͢͞ĝ̡̢͔̜̤̤͙ͭͤ̋̾ͨ͆͗́!̷͉̘̺ͨͨ̋̎́” He said in an Italian accented demon’s voice.
So they were reasonably confused when I started cackling like a madman with a hotshot grin on his face. I must have looked like I had either totally lost it or had a trump card to play. I’ll give you a hint, it’s the latter! I wiped a tear from my eye and flicked it with my pinky finger.
“Oh… aren’t you guys a riot, thinking you have me right where you want me like total tools”
They protested in a whiny tone, a strange sound coming from a demon’s voice. I pulled out a pair of shades from the null space or wherever this random crap comes from and put them on.
“Not today. I’m about to goomba stomp you and your midget boyfriend”
I coiled up before pouncing on Mario first, eliciting the iconic jump sound before trouncing his partner in evil. Flattening them both in a hilariously cartoony fashion and causing them to effervesce out of existence. I casually walked away before stopping and brazenly uttering the necessary one liner.
I could have sworn I heard the achievement unlocked sound come from somewhere but I ignored it, as the door out of this lame paradox of my childhood once again decided to pop up (literally) in front of me. Ready to put this bizarre event behind me, I grabbed the latch and swung the door open. I won’t tell you what twisted scenario I saw in there but when I left I was in a considerably foul mood, I pretty much ripped the next door off its hinges to unequivocally put the ill-favored exposure behind me.
The only thing of notice here this time around was a well illuminated cylindrical chamber containing a set of spiraling stairs leading up the crystalline column where the door opened. I shook my head with incredulity; did Sombra’s trapdoors really think I was afraid of staircases? I had more of a hatred for them actually, why use stairs when they have escalators?
‘Oh wait… they don’t have those here’ Face met palm in an epic slap.
Great, now I was depressed. My brief stint with depression was about to be cut short however, as another door slowly materialized out of the crystalline column next to mine. It all but burst open and out egressed none other than my temporary partner Daring Do! She expeditiously (see what I did there?) slammed the door shut behind her and took up a position against it, gasping for air like she ran a few marathons herself. When she noticed me staring at her with an amused expression she chuckled nervously before readjusting her seasoned looking helmet and extricating herself from the door. Acting casually while trying to appear all nonchalant about her no doubt equally nerve racking experience.
“So… how’d it go?” She coyly asked with an innocent smile on her face.
“Scary as balls, but I didn’t let it faze me too much. How bout’ you?” I grinned like the Cheshire cat on catnip.
“It went great! Discovered a lot about myself in there” She narrowed her eyes, “Too much… I think”
‘I don’t even want to know’
“Well…” I awkwardly started, “Let’s get a move on shall we?”
“Let’s” She nodded her ascent, eager to let bygone trapdoors be bygones.
“So I guess both doors were the trapdoors, who would have thought huh?” I chuckled as we began clambering up the monolithic stairwell.
“Probably so we’d have to face our fears by ourselves. Wish I could smack the inglorious bastard who made them upside the head” Daring muttered angrily.
“I can certainly share that sentiment… I’d also sock him in the goodies” I jokingly jested.
That got a good snicker from my companion. We carried on in silence; the urge to needle Daring about what she saw was undoubtedly at the forefront on my mind, but since I respected other people’s personal privacy enough not to intrude on them I didn’t ask. As it was, Daring did not feel the same way.
“So what nightmares did you experience running the gauntlet? Betcha they weren’t as scary as mine if you managed to get here first” She spoke with the utmost brashness as she pointed a thumb at herself.
“Are you an arachnophobe Daring?” I neutrally asked.
“Pfft, Spiders? Pshaw… of course not. I encounter them all the time in my line of work! Nothing I couldn’t handle.” She proudly said, probably feeling like her previous statement was already justified.
I just gave her an emotionless look and spoke in an ominous voice.
“You would be if you went through what I did” That shut her up nice and good, it helps that I can be quite the actor if I should so choose. Although Spiders are legitimately scary (shudders).
“What about after? I know the doors don’t make you face only one fear” Daring inquired.
“Just a couple of demons that wanted to carve out my heart and bake it into blood cakes” I dispassionately summarized.
“Oh..” Daring vocalized, clearly confused at my casual carefree description, “You make it sound like it’s a common thing for you”
“Common? Naw, I’m just not intimidated by something I know I can just Goomba stomp into oblivion” (Video game logic you know?)
“Goomba stomp? What is it with you and all these weird allusions?” She asked,
“Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you” I sidestepped her somewhat risky question.
“Try me” She pushed the topic.
“Maybe later” I pressed back.
She made that small growling sound women can sometimes make when they’re frustrated and jabbed a finger in my chest. Stopping our ascendance up the seemingly endless flight of stairs as she bore her eyes into mine, despite the fact that she was a good deal shorter than me.
“Listen bub, you better not be keeping any treacherous secrets from me or I’ll drop you like a bad habit. Is that clear?” She warned. Her tone was low and dangerous, as though she made threats like this before. Given her lifestyle, that wasn’t entirely out of the question.
“Crystal” I replied, my voice impassive and unreadable as always.
“Excellent!” She cheerfully chirped and bounded up the stairs with a near imperceptible skip in her step. The sudden change in attitude almost had me staggering off the edge. Not that it would’ve mattered since I had my wings, but still.
‘Women, they can emulate bipolar symptoms like the real deal. Except there’s no regimen for them, it’s either the cold shoulder treatment or hell’s fury as far as they’re concerned’ I mused with oodles of cynicism. I kept a respectable distance behind Daring, mostly for two reasons; her last actions put me off just a tad… and because she had a shapely posterior.
‘Dude… dat ass. I bet that’s not the only shapely thing about her with her level of fitness. *Wink wink nudge nudge!*’
‘Dammit Brain! We’re in hot enough water with her right now as it is! Although I do have to agree with that assessment. Bow Chicka Wow Wow!’
“So what else did you see?” Daring asked, as if the whole prior death threat thing never happened.
To be honest I expected no less, women are complicated creatures that have baffled men for millennia and we are still no closer to truly understanding them. Trying to comprehend them would be like defusing an atom bomb, except women can explode more than once upon screwing up. As far as Daring’s question went, by no means was I willing to answer directly.
“Nothing worth mentioning” I was glad Daring couldn’t see my rapidly darkening expression.
“What about you? You’ve grilled me for answers so it’s only fair you told me your own worst fears” I retorted irritably.
“Maybe later” She priggishly responded with a vile smirk on her face.
‘Well… I suppose turnabout is fair play’
“Whatever…” I disinterestedly shot back.
By this point, we had traversed dozens and dozens of steps… and it didn’t seem like it was about to end either. I contemplated just using my wings and flying to the top and just wait for my incredibly irksome partner to catch up, but something told me that she wouldn’t take kindly to being reminded of her disability. That… and I am a gentleman, I don’t leave a lady behind simply because I was too lazy to lift my fat ass up some stairs. Even if a lady wasn’t currently present in my company… Zing!
“Jeez… does drinking from the Crystal Chalice give somebody Bathmomania on top of power mad psychosis?” I groaned in exhaust.
“Certainly seems like it” Daring agreed, breathing in as hard as I was. I was somewhat impressed that she knew the word Bathmomania to begin with.
“You know, you could just fly up to the top…” Daring softly spoke.
“Yeah I could, but then who would keep you company? We’ll suffer these lousy stairs together” I obstinately insisted.
“You know something Zenith? You’re not a half bad guy” Daring complimented with her first real smile towards me since our little trip began.
‘She has a wonderful smile, so full of life, courage, and just a hint of playful mischief’ I blissfully observed, I was about to simply dismiss her flattery with my usual passivity but she continued.
“I also wanted to apologize about earlier, the not so thinly masked threat I mean? It’s just that it isn’t the first time I had a partner with hidden intentions almost stab me in the back…” She trailed off at the end.
‘Great… now I feel bad about zinging her earlier. She’s frustrating even when she’s sincere!’ I mentally sighed before deciding on cheering her up.
“Hey” I tenderly spoke, “I’m not the kind of guy who would do that to you, and you’re too awesome to break trust with. Besides…my ‘secret’ isn’t something that concerns you or your work in any way shape or form, I’m just a from a very far off land that’s in some ways, even more unbelievable than this place”
“I believe you” She said in a warmhearted voice, before an expression of intrigue flashed across her features, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me where a Valkyrian like you hailed from”
“That’s because you never asked” I sarcastically said, receiving a slug in the arm from Daring for my efforts. Despite being a girl, she still hit pretty hard. Causing me to rub the soon to be sore spot with an imperceptible grimace of discomfort.
“Okay wise guy, cough it up. Where’s home for you and what brought you here to this city?” She asked with genuine inquisitiveness.
“Foreign born, the reason I’m in this Kingdom is a little more complex. But simply put, I’m getting Arcanian citizenship granted to me by the Princess if I did her a favor” I explained.
“Did it involve chasing down relics of unspeakable power along with a dynamic and charismatic adventurer? Or a different kind of favor?” She gave me a lecherous grin while elbowing me provocatively.
“You’re incorrigible” I replied with a shake of my head, “Besides… I’m pretty sure that she’s married”
“Uh huh… sure” Daring verbalized while still wearing that dirty grin.
“Where are you from?” I asked her, put off with her lewd behavior.
“Me? Oh, I’m a Las Valkryas girl” She said with a hint of home pride in her voice.
“Really? I would’ve thought someone like you would have been born someplace more…”
“Tropic?” She finished for me, “Yeah that’s what most people would think, but to be honest I’m just as much at home in the city as I am in the jungles”
“You certainly are a fascinating individual Daring Do” I venerated, intrigued by this new information.
“Yup! And I’m all woman” She winked at me before laughing at my befuddled look.
‘Not sure if she’s screwing with me, or actually being a wanton flirt. I’d be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t the slightest bit interested’
“Without a doubt” I said inattentively, feigning disinterest anyway. Daring didn’t look like she bought the act, but didn’t press any further since we were drawing close to the top.
The staircase ended in a rotunda that offered a spectacular view of the surrounding kingdom through flat gem studded columns that lined the room.
I realized that this must have been the very top of the main Crystal Spire extending out of the citadel. A floating crystal heart greatly resembling the one downstairs except for its oscillating nature hovered calmly over the ever present emblem of the Krystal Kingdom. My partner and I advanced toward the heart, intent on making heads or tails of our still unknown next step. Thankfully, we didn’t have to do much as the heart suddenly twinkled brilliantly with lights of all colors of the spectrum before coalescing into a bright white light that pierced the halcyon veil of the climate barrier and pointed in the direction of a portion of the mountain ranges enveloping the kingdom.
Coincidentally, I noted that it was exactly opposite of where I helped put an end to the feral snow dragon. The most intriguing part was that the train tracks leading out of the kingdom meandered in that very same direction. The shrill sound of a train whistle about to depart was blaring in the windy breeze and echoed in our ears. I turned to my accomplice in action affairs and sarcastically stated.
“Looks like we have a train to catch”
Chapter 8: A Catharsis, a Climax, and an Extraordinary Excursion
So there we stood at the apex of the Crystal Citadel, peering down the ledge in the direction of the train station after a facsimile of the embodiment of the goodwill of the kingdom’s inhabitants downstairs conveniently showed us the way we had to go next. A train about to make its final boarding call leading in that direction was sounding its whistle at regular intervals. If we were going to make it aboard on time, we’d have to take the express elevator down. Seeing as they didn’t have those however, that left one other alternative…
My companion and I glanced at each other; her expression was that of coy innocence while mine was an unenthusiastic frown, having already anticipated her idea in advance.
“No… no freakin’ way” I automatically responded.
“Got a better plan?” She rhetorically asked, smirking in victory when she knew that I didn’t.
“Do I look like a pack mule to you?” I griped, completely at unease with was going to happen next.
“Quit whining. Don’t you want to be ridden?” She grinned lasciviously.
Ignoring her crude conduct, I sighed in exasperation before closing my eyes and summoning my wings. Their now comforting presence sitting on my shoulders once again. The strong breeze at this elevation made them flitter and ripple in the wind, sending a strange sensation coursing through my brain. Shaking off the slight daze, I gesticulated towards myself with open arms to Daring; something she took no hesitation in pestering me for.
“Why Zenith, how forward of you!” She held a hand to her chest in mock shock and swayed seductively.
‘Guess Piercy hit the nail on the head with his imitation’ I humorously observed.
“Please don’t make this worse than it already is for me” I quietly remonstrated.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be gentle” She sensually said, making me groan in vexation.
‘I’m not sure which is more infuriating, her being a total grouch or a coquette!’
She stalked towards me in a manner I found almost predatory before latching onto me in a secure embrace. Her soft chest pressing against mine in a supple fashion caused mental proximity alarms to perpetually ring in my mind, registering on my face as a twitch of the right eye.
‘Dude focus; you don’t wanna wind up as a striking impression of strawberry jelly smushed against the sidewalk’ I sighed for the umpteenth time that day.
Before making the dive off the ledge, an absolutely diabolical idea arose in my thoughts; resulting in a near manic grin appearing on my face. ‘Might as well have some fun with this’ I deviously schemed.
“Well, here goes nothing” I casually spoke as I ventured off the ledge backwards with my passenger in tow.
Even though it was probably a foolish thing of me to do, I kept my wings folded until halfway down the provisional base jump. My very close companion was screaming colorful invectives the whole way once she realized what I was (or more specifically wasn’t) doing. It may have been a cheap and slightly immature move, but I thought the payback was well worth it. When I noticed the ground approaching a little too fast for my own comfort, I flared my wings out and diminished our velocity like a makeshift parachute. We touched down batman style just in front of the citadel, with some passerby’s standing in awe of our dynamic downfall.
Daring loosened her death grip on me before giving me a baleful glare that could have turn a cockatrice to stone, but my indifference was so thick it just bounced off.
“What the heck was that for!? You could have gotten us killed!” She shouted, practically foaming at the mouth in raw vehemence.
I shrugged apathetically, “Hey, you don’t get to complain when you pick Zenith airlines as your premier choice of travel” I sarcastically chirped, receiving another harsh slug in the arm from Daring.
‘Ow… the look on her face was totally worth it though, *mental high five!*’
The strident scream of a train whistle once more reminded us that we had a tight schedule to keep. I nodded with my head in its direction to my irate partner, with Daring begrudgingly dropping our little altercation in favor of catching the train before it left the station. We darted towards the station as fast as our legs could take us, rushing our way past the peregrinating people pandering to their verisimilitude of a quaint and carefree existence. Unfortunately, our way to the station took us through one of the market areas. Even though it was later in the afternoon, there were still crowds of people perusing the local wares. I juked around them as best as I could, but I couldn’t manage to avoid one cabbage grocer wheeling his cart right into my path. Thinking quickly, I used my wings to add some power to my jump and pulled a quick somersault over it.
‘Wow… parkour is so much easier with wings!’ I thought with gleeful satisfaction.
My wingless partner tailing me however was not so lucky. She pretty much bowled over the poor man and his cart, sending the heads rolling down the street.
“MY CABBAGES! NOOO!!!” He wailed, his inventory suddenly depleted.
“My bad! Send the bill to the institute!” She called back, either purposefully neglecting to mention which institute or forgetting altogether.
We were making good time; the train depot was just coming into view. The sooty exhaust from the iron horse’s smokestack lightly billowing in the breeze. It was your typical 19th century setup, the locomotive and a tender or coal car latched to the engine along with a total of eight passenger coaches and cargo cars; sadly there was no caboose to be found. I was going to swiftly storm the ticket counter for our admission when I heard screams of distress coming from the train; multitudes of people appeared to be fleeing from the cars in droves as though it was in the process of being hijacked…
‘Wait….oh crap’
The train gears suddenly ground against the rails, a noisy scraping sound being the only indicator that it was suddenly departing, other than a battered conductor being unceremoniously tossed out of the driver’s cab by an unseen assailant.
“C’mon, we can’t let it get away!” Daring shouted to me as she vaulted the gap between the platform and the rearmost rail car as the train left the station. I quickly followed suit before I was left behind to deal with the fallout back at the station. I landed stiffly on the metal grating, causing it to reverberate loudly as it withstood the brunt of my weight. My partner had already flung open the door to the freight car and had progressed inside without me.
I was certainly no stranger to excitement by now, but I had no idea what I was going up against here. My money (which clinked noisily in my pouch the entire time) was on the probability that the rival that Daring said had beaten her to the codex back in Marabia was now in control of the rapidly accelerating train. Based on how the culprits managed to dispatch Cadence’s guards back in the repository, I’d safely say that they were definitely dangerous.
As the train eventually surpassed the climate barrier and into the windy wintery wasteland, I cautiously entered the rail car and after my courageous companion. Inside it looked like your typical Hollywood style freight coach; boxes of various materials were stacked on top of another in a somewhat haphazard alignment of rows.
‘Oh God, I hope there isn’t a shooting section. At least the train is civilian free, I hope’ I nervously thought, knowing this world’s penchant for exploiting clichés.
Thankfully it was not to be, I’m deathly allergic to bullets and collateral damage anyway. Instead, I came across a scuffle by the time I reached the fourth rail car. Daring was facing off against two large and muscular brigands wearing the animal skins of a black panther and a tiger respectively. They were wielding claw like weapons attached to their hands like knuckle dusters with a sharp attitude. Because of the close quarters, Daring didn’t have enough room to use her whip; instead she used vaguely Aikido like tactics to redirect her opponent’s own attack momentum against them while weaving and ducking around them like an expert. A third thug, this one wearing a Lynx skin noticed me and approached with lethal intent in his eyes. He drew his weapons, a pair of warrior’s spirt-esque claws that seemed to be dripping with some kind of liquid before striking them together and setting them alight while giving me a blood thirsty grin.
“You gotta be kidding me” was my disbelieving statement, both at the violation of physics and his morbid showmanship in doing so.
‘Where’s Bruce Lee when you need him? He’s dealt with claw wielding murderous psychopaths before!’ I wishfully thought.
My opponent did not grace me with an answer, instead opting to charge me and make a few swipes at my neck. I backpedaled out of the way and withdrew my Tantō from its substitute sheath in my belt loops, holding it in a reverse grip and silently grateful for my plan ahead ideology. My aggressor paused momentarily to eye my blade before giving me a distasteful and greedy sneer.
“That knife will make a fine trophy; I shall enjoy looting it from your soon to be mutilated corpse” He boldly boasted.
“Yeah? Come and take it dickweed” I defiantly replied, standing my ground.
I looked calm on the outside, but on the inside I was an anxious wreck. I had no combat training! I could actually die here! But I didn’t really have much of a choice; if I tried to run away he’d get a free swing at my backside, my wings were of no use in the cramped cargo compartments, and this degenerate was just asking for an ass kicking. Plus I couldn’t just leave Daring to face these scumbags by herself, call it foolish male pride but I had developed a protective complex for women in peril; even if they aggravate the hell out of me. I swore I saw the emblem on my knife briefly light up as I thought that. The man opposite of me snarled at my riposte and slashed at me repeatedly; there was no tactical pattern to his attacks at all. This man just really wanted to tear me a new one based on how furious his strikes were. I evaded as best as I could manage, nearly receiving a few close shaves for my efforts. It may have been my imagination or the adrenaline that was no doubt coursing through my veins, but his onslaught of swipes and slashes were getting slower and easier to avoid. Perhaps he was getting weary? Regardless I used the extra breathing room to mentally recite some advice.
‘Okay Zenith think! The flight book mentioned something that Valkyrian’s had as an advantage in a fight! What was the passage? “Strength is the brute’s weapon, poison is the thief’s weapon, and speed is the Skyborn’s weapon” I have to outmaneuver him!’
That was easier said than done, the tight quarter’s left little room for mistake. It certainly didn’t help that the sudden switchbacks that the train was climbing made me nearly lose balance several times; although to be fair it threw my mutual enemy off balance as well, preventing him from landing a critical hit on me on many occasions. I may have had a good height advantage over my opponent, which meant I could outreach him and hopefully land a few hits myself. But he was crafty little bugger, constantly closing the distance I attempted to put between us to negate that handicap. I spotted an opening just as he tried a heavy handed downward strike, landing it and getting his right claw stuck on a crate behind me. I used that opportune moment to insert my blade between the bindings holding the savage weapon to his hand and wrenched it away from him. Giving him a nasty looking gash in the process that he held while howling in pain and fury. By now, our little dance had taken us back a whole rail car; so the disarmed and still inflamed weapon had landed amongst an opened case of inconveniently placed dynamite rods and lit their alarmingly short fuses.
“Oh shit!” I scrambled away as fast as I could, sloppily sheathing my weapon in the process. My opponent was too distracted by his injury to notice why I was fleeing with as much haste as I could muster.
I retreated for all but five seconds into the succeeding freight car before a monstrously loud blast accompanied by a shockwave enveloped the previous rail car and the unfortunate soul still inside. The explosion knocked me off my feet and sent me flying forward several feet into one of the passenger cars. I had time to see the shocked faces of Daring and her aggressors locked in a stalemate before I collided headfirst with the backrest of one of the velveteen lined passenger benches and knew no more.
⁂
I awoke to a splitting headache and the sound of various objects detaching from their place and falling past me into the snowy abyss below. I slowly shifted around in the seat I had somehow stayed affixed to on the floor panels and examined myself.
‘Ugh, it feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my face. Wait… falling objects?’ I took in my current situation, I was covered in scrapes and bruises but favorably was no worse for wear overall. Couldn’t say the same about my contemporary position though, it was a real mess.
Apparently the detonating TNT sheared apart the rail car and derailed the rest of the train. Because it had just reached the top of the mountainous embankment, the other rail cars tumbled around in such a way that the one I was currently in was perched precariously many hundreds of feet over a steep cliff.
‘Is this what Nathan Drake had to deal with? He was completely right, this totally blows. At least I ain’t been shot on top of it, god I despise cliffhangers’ I internally lamented.
I was about to search for my companion and see if she was alright before the sound of creaking materials alerted me to movement below where I was seated. I held a hand to my backside, sighing in relief when I felt the reassuring smooth crimson wood handle of the Tantō still secured to my person. I gripped the handle securely in case one of those cat crazy crooks was still around. Groaning in discomfort and more than a little bit of soreness, I shifted around in my seat to get a good look at what was occurring below. Auspiciously, it was just Daring climbing up whatever she could find a handhold on in the rail car hanging below. However, her good fortune was about to be shaken quite severely and quite literally. The coupler connecting this car and the one Daring was clambering up, began to loosen with a sickly grinding noise before slowly disengaging itself from the lock. Daring saw this and frantically began to jump climb before leaping across the gap between the two recently disjoined rail cars to grab onto the metal slab interposed between the box shaped metal draft gear coupler of the passenger coach I was inhabiting at the moment.
“Hey sleeping beauty! A little help here?” She tried to hide the fear in her voice with sarcasm but there was a noticeable tremor, can’t say I blamed her. That tends to happen to people just one imminent slip away from plummeting to their doom.
“Hang on Dee Dee! Be with you in a sec!” I shouted down to her, before analyzing the way down. There were plenty of things I could use to climb down, the seat benches that weren’t unbolted from the floor looked secure enough for me to shimmy myself down to Daring. The curtain bars looked like a good secondary in case the bench idea didn’t work. With that in mind I enacted my barely thought out plan, slowly but surely hopping down from one seat bench to the other as I neared my dangling partner.
“Zenith! I’m starting to slip!” Her voice was in full panic now.
I just about reached her when she lost her hold and began to freefall.
‘Shit!’ I mentally cursed, without second thought for my own safety I dove after her.
She assumed a flat form which increased her wind resistance and decreased her terminal velocity, whether or not she did that on purpose was lost to me since she was busy screaming her lungs out. I assumed an aerodynamic bullet shape and nosedived after her; I rapidly closed the distance between the two of us and grabbed her. I was very glad she wasn’t frantic enough to be flailing about or this would have been obscenely difficult. With her securely in my embrace I reoriented us perpendicular to the speedily approaching ground and pumped my wings for all they were worth. Thankfully, the airbrakes on Zenith airlines worked wonders and slowed our descent to a halt. Daring was hugging me with such intense strength as to put a grizzly bear to shame.
“Uhm… Dee Dee? I kind of need to breathe here” I managed to wheeze out.
She loosened her vice like clamp on me and liberated my airway passages so they could be put back into operation. Something I liberally took advantage of, Daring was also huffing exorbitantly from the ordeal herself.
“You saved me…” She eked out between gasps of Oxygen.
“Of course I did” I curtly replied, “I wouldn’t leave the great Daring Do hanging would I?” I couldn’t resist making the pun; she however didn’t notice or was too grateful to care about my facetious attitude to us nearly dying several times.
“Thanks” She softly said, “I guess I owe you one huh?” She chuckled.
“Consider it on the house, I’m just glad that’s over with” I chuckled along with her before peering up, my pupils shrinking at what I saw.
“Spoke too soon” Was all I managed before the incoming passenger car engulfed us in its maw like a hungry beast pouncing upon its unsuspecting prey. Miraculously, we harmlessly passed through its corridor and out the other side as the dilapidated corpse of a rail car slammed into the hard ground below and impacted the Earth with a near deafening rumble. Of course, that didn’t stop us both from screaming out in fright (Mine was manly of course!) at the sudden encapsulation. Afterwards, Daring and I both looked at each other before breaking out into a mix of nervous and relieved laughter.
‘Good thing the doors were open on both sides, otherwise we’d have been flattened!’ I shook myself out of my astonished reverie.
“Well, before anything else tries to promptly kill us; let’s make for high ground shall we?” I suggested to my companion.
“Sounds like the best idea I’ve heard yet today” She sighed in exhaustion.
“Stick around, I’m full of good ideas” I optimistically stated, intentionally twisting Isaac Clarke’s quote in the aspiration of achieving positive fortune. Although I knew better than to get my hopes up, the universe has rarely been generous to me lately it seems.
I lifted us both up the Cliffside until we both had semi solid snowy ground beneath our feet. The tangled mess of wreckage from the train derailment was scattered all over the snow drifts leading from the rail line. Fires that managed to catch the wooden roofs of the rail coaches were slowly consuming them and turning them into burnt tinder. An array of materials from the cargo cars were dispersed all over the crash site, Daring promptly picked up whatever she could scrounge to replace the gear she lost earlier in the pile up, including a modest messenger pouch and perishables in the form of power bars and heavily dented water canteens. She even added a couple sticks of dynamite leftover from some of the undetonated explosive crates to our inventory.
I meanwhile was wondering why they’d have dynamite on the train to begin with, but I’d learned to quickly dismiss the odd things that this world constantly brought to my attention. Instead I concerned myself with whether or not we were alone in the ram shackled ruins of what passed for a train. I conducted a quick sweep of the area with my hand constantly on my knife handle, but I found no one else besides us. I rejoined Daring who was warming herself by one of the shambled piles of wreckage that was currently acting as a campfire and sat beside her, instantly yelping in pain and grumbling to myself as I realized that I had plopped down on a jagged piece of debris. I tossed the offending object as far as I could over the Cliffside as comeuppance for its heinous act. Then I turned my attention to the pensive looking woman next to me.
“Hey, what happened to those two cat skin wearing lackeys you were tussling with?” I asked curiously.
“After that violent explosion jumbled the whole train of the rails, they were both defenestrated out the windows. I got lucky, only fell into an open lavatory room the rail car below” She replied.
“Gross” I grimaced at the unsavory thought.
“Nah, I came out clean. It was out of order” She smirked, “Can’t say the same about Scratch and Growl”
“Wait… you knew those guys?” I asked; since they didn’t look terribly familiar to me.
“Yeah, they were some of the top goons working for my arch rival. A small mercenary group called the Wild Cats” She explained.
“You never did reveal who this rival of yours was” I hinted for a full account.
She took in a deep breath before speaking, “He calls himself Ahuizotl, power hungry rogue aristocrat from some region with a name equally difficult to pronounce and very far removed from here” Before I could ask for more information she stood and dusted herself off.
“We should get moving soon, before a snowstorm covers up those tracks” She started off in the direction of an uneven set of three tracks pointing in the direction of the mountain range. I relinquished my inquiries and followed her professional lead as usual.
We walked for several hours, the light slowly dimming until it was early nightfall. The tracks eventually reached into an outcropping in the slope of one of the mountains. We climbed that outcropping to find that it reached into a small rocky cave. Realizing that the tracks stopped there, we opted to settle down for the night. Even though we had our Valkryian resistance to the natural elements, the ground was still frigid and uncomfortably cold. I saw Daring reach into one of her vest pockets and pull out what looked like dried grass.
“What is that?” I asked, curious at how it would help.
“It’s called brushfire grass, even a tiny amount can burn for hours on end. It’s found in the savanna regions of Zstarasia and Aridia. As you can probably guess, brushfires can be a serious problem there.” She demonstrated by pulling out a match and setting fire to the small crumpled pile of grass. Despite its miniscule amount, it didn’t curl up or crispate in the slightest and warmed the surrounding air to more tolerable levels.
I sat down criss cross style close by to the fireside, slowly mesmerized by the flickering of the flames; which burned with a curious yellow tinge. My invaluable companion sat next to me and removed her iconic pith helmet and ran a hand down her gray scaled locks of hair; something I noticed was a lot more beat up and worn looking up close. I decided to question her about it to pass the time.
“I’m guessing that ol’ thing has a sentimental value attached to it huh?” I said with sarcasm free sincerity.
“More than you know. This ol’ thing… belonged to my grandfather and ultimate role model, the famous explorer and safari man Tally Ho. Ever since I was a little girl; I aspired to be more like my Grandpappy. Fierce, fearless, audacious and valorous… just like him” She smiled a melancholy smile, reliving some of the cherished memories.
“What happened to him?” I asked, interested in knowing more.
“One day he went on one of his expeditions, some kind of secretive relic recovery excursion … and never came back, this helmet is all I have left to remember him by” She cradled it like it was a precious child while stroking the olivine band that encompassed the weathered head wear.
“Oh, I’m sorry for bringing that up Daring. I shouldn’t have aske..” I was going to finish my apologies but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“No, it’s quite alright. I’ve had plenty of time to adjust to that fact. After all, one lesson Grandpappy instilled in me was to ‘keep a stiff upper lip Daring my girl and you’ll go far!’” She imitated in her best Englishman accent. Eliciting a small chuckle from me, despite the despondent atmosphere of our conversation.
“He sounds like he was a cool guy. That kind of enterprising charisma must run in the family” I complimented her to which she shrugged.
“Wouldn’t know, I never got to fully acquaint myself with my parents” She spoke with indifference gained from a lifetime of introspection.
“What happened to them?” I asked, almost apprehensive of the answer.
“They died when I was an infant; my grandpappy was the only family I had” She sadly stated, confirming my worried suspicions.
“So when he never returned…” I began.
“I had to be put in an orphanage until I was of the age where I could strike it out on my own” She finished for me, “The Las Valkyras local government kept his assets preserved for me until I was legally old enough to claim them. My grandpappy may not have been a terribly rich man, but he sure left me a lot of presents to forge my own reputation with” She finished with a mirthless chortle.
Wanting to change the topic to something a little less of a tender spot I continued down that line to see where it led.
“So how did you get your big start? How did you become the famous Daring Do, adventuress extraordinaire?” I inquired with enthusiasm in my voice.
“One of my grandpappy’s old friends, a Professor Stratigraphy got me interested in paleology and eventually petitioned the Concordia Institute of Archaeology to give me a chance to join them. They issued me a challenge, bring them a priceless foreign relic and they would admit me into their ranks. So I consolidated my newly acquired assets, trained intensively, and set out to make a name for myself”
“Which relic did you bring them?” I asked, fully enraptured in her tale.
“A little something called the Sapphire Statue” She smirked at me. Even though I had no idea what its significance was, I nodded and acted impressed for her sake.
“Wow… and for your first relic retrieval too! The people at the institute must have been surprised at such resourcefulness. I mean the Sapphire Statue? That’s downright awesome right there” I laid it on thick to be extra sure. She seemed to beam with pride at my display of admiration. I once more was grateful for my acting skills and unrevealing stolid facial expression.
“More than surprised, they were downright flabbergasted. The temple I retrieved it from is nestled deep inside one of the harshest rainforests out there! Not to mention that the Temple itself is absolutely jam packed full of booby traps”
‘Tee hee, she said booby’ An immature part of my mind painstakingly pointed out.
‘Shut up Brain, this is neither the time nor the place’ I chastised myself.
“Nothing an experienced adventurer such as yourself couldn’t handle I’m sure” I stated with confidence.
“Well, not everything went as smoothly as I would have liked. I nearly bought the farm several times, what with the rolling man sized boulders, falling spike traps, magma cauldrons, poison dart launchers, quick sand pits, feral water buffalo, and last but not least, the slowly sinking stone slab of crushing defeat” She finished listing the various health hazards of said Sapphire Statue temple.
“Wow… how in the world did you get past the water buffalo?” I legitimately asked. She gave me a funny look as if she wasn’t expecting me to choose that particular obstacle out of the multitude she recounted.
“I’m dying of suspense… really” I added in my best imitation of the Sith Inquisitor’s voice. She continued to stare in confusion at me but eventually yielded to my indomitable will with a slow shake of her head.
“There was a hidden switch on one of the torch sconces, flooded the chamber with saline rich water and mud. The water buffalo calmed down after that, happy enough to wallow around in the muck” She recalled with an amused smile.
“Neat, so when did you get the idea to publish your adventures?” I asked, very interested in knowing how Daring Do became a literary household name.
“Funny story actually, it was shortly after I brought back the Sapphire Statue to the institute. One of the officials there was so taken aback by the sheer number of hindrances I had to overcome that he felt as if my maiden expedition was ‘something out of an adventure book’, I told him that if it wasn’t by that point, then it would be now. So I set out on a different kind of quest to find a publisher who was looking for a good story slash autobiography to write and sell copies of” She took a deep intake of air and clicked her tongue in a thoughtful manner.
“I imagine that once you found one, it became quite a lucrative practice” I interjected during the pause.
“Of course! But I had to find one first remember? Eventually and after being turned down by dozens of short sighted publishers, I came across an upstart like myself by the name of Hard Cover. We agreed upon a fair deal, I got half and he got half of the proceeds. My only other request was that he didn’t publish myself under another name for anonymity reasons”
“Wait, how does using your actual name keep you anonymous?” I asked, confused at first.
“Think about it, no one would suspect that Daring Do would be my actual name. They would automatically assume it to be some kind of nom de plume per se, plus I don’t have to pretend to be someone else other than myself! On top of that, I can use the income from the book series to help subsidize my successive expeditions” She exclaimed happily.
“Well, you certainly seem to have a nice little system worked out. Are you going to get this little adventure of ours turned into a novel?” I inquisitively asked.
“Most likely, although I can’t think of a decent title for the life of me” She cocked her head to the side as she mulled it over.
“How about… Daring Do and the chase for the Crystal Chalice?” I suggested.
“Huh, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll have to run it by my agent once I get back to Concordia” She said as she put her beloved helmet to the side before she removed her messenger bag and set it aside as well.
“Just be sure to give credit to where it’s due yea?” I raised my brow expectantly.
“Perish the thought that the great Zenith should be excluded from his place in the series Do!” Daring sarcastically jested.
“How true to your adventures is the series?” I inquired, ignoring her jab.
“Hard Cover edits a few things for the sake of reader anticipation, but more or less it’s exactly what I deal with on my ventures” She tentatively explained.
“Just another day in the life of Daring Do huh?” I playfully suggested to which she nodded in agreement.
“Exactly. And given how crazy my life can get sometimes, editing isn’t even really required”
“I don’t doubt it; you certainly like to live life on the edge” I shook my head in near disbelief at the debacle earlier.
“Just not literally” She chuckled softly, no doubt thinking along the same lines.
“Oh? You have a book series that disagrees with that statement” I cunningly bantered with her.
She threw a fake annoyed look my way, “You know what I mean ya’ blockhead”
The soft crackling of the bush grass fed fire was the only sound to permeate the cave for a short time; I was content to merely watch the yellowish flames flicker and dance together in a poetic display of raw natural emotion. Eventually the silence was interrupted by my companion, who gave me a cursory glance as she did so.
“So… you already have a pet name for me? Dee Dee was it?” She had a strange expression as she said that.
“Well I wouldn’t say it was a pet name so much as an efficient nickname. That… and I was a fan of the Dexter’s Laboratory series as a kid, you sometimes remind me of the main character’s sister Dee Dee” I neglected to tell her it was because she was could be both annoying as hell yet endearing at the same time.
“Is that another book series? I haven’t heard of it” She said as she wracked her mind for a reference to it.
“No, it was more of an animated play really. Besides, I highly doubt you’d recognize any of the things from home that I admire” She gave a thoughtful hum as she digested that.
“It’s just that only one other person has ever called me that, an old friend from the orphanage” She had a small nostalgic smile on her face, “I was in the middle of a free fall to my demise and that was the first thing on my mind” She let out a self-deprecating laugh, clearly appalled with herself.
“Hey, I caught you… and I wouldn’t be surprised with your initials and everything” I reasoned.
“Perhaps…and thanks again for that” She finished with a drained sounding suspire.
“Anytime Dee Dee” I replied with a small smile.
It more or less continued that way until we both grew weary. We were of one mind that Ow-who- what’s his face and his goons would also have to wait for daylight hours to continue their power mad gambit the same as us. It certainly helped that we deprived them of purloining any lighting resources or other materials during the derailment. ‘I’m positively atremble with anticipation to tell her highness all about that one’ So with that line of thinking concluded, we both settled down for a cozy doze by the fireside. Thankful for a brief respite from the taxing action and adrenaline rushes. I was about to succumb to the compelling pull of slumber when I felt something, or more specifically someone snuggle up next to me.
“Uhm…what are you doing?” I warily asked her.
“What does it look like doofus? I’m sharing body heat” She explained with an unsure tone, as if she were trying to convince herself that what was she was really doing.
“We’re Valkryians Daring, we have superior resistance to the cold. That’s a transparent excuse and you know it” I indicated to her, she continued her flimsy ruse regardless.
“Yeah well… you make for a great pillow!” She said, flustered from a mix of frustration and embarrassment all the while.
“Uh huh, you keep telling yourself that” I dubiously stated.
“Damn it! Why do you have to be so impossible!?” She deploringly protested.
“Right back at cha” I smartly retorted.
Before she started seething with relentless anger, I placated her, “I’m too tired to argue about this, you get a free night’s pass to use me as your personal teddy bear this one time only” I proffered to her.
“Pfft… fine then, jerk” She groused, shifting closer anyway. She positioned her head right over my chest, comfortable enough to get some shut eye.
“You have a nice sounding heartbeat” She mentioned offhandedly.
“Let’s hope it remains that way” I was too burned out to say anything else.
We stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth for the rest of the night.
⁂
Strangely enough I woke from my dreamless slumber before my still dozing partner, the morning rays from the Sun illuminating the cave through the crevice we entered. The woman had a light snore that even I couldn’t help but find somewhat adorable. Calmly relieved that she didn’t take the liberty of drooling all over my faintly torn shirt, I gently and laboriously excised myself from her grasp. Even asleep, I could see the displeased expression on her face when her substitute pillow was suddenly absent; it was enough to almost make me feel guilty… almost. It soon passed none the less and I turned towards more important matters. I then used that opportunity to do some morning stretches and take stock of my own personal inventory. ‘Ipod and ear buds; check. Money bag; check. Tantō; check. Flash and smoke canisters; check and check’ Call me paranoid, but if my meeting with the Princess went south for whatever reason; I would follow suit and escape in a flash of smoke and noise, making use of my wings to fly as fast as I could to the less arctic lands of Arcania. As it happened, that graciously did not occur; I’m still flabbergasted at how easily Cadence dismissed my story of being an extra dimensional visitor, though to be fair she didn’t look like she whole heartedly believed it. However …I had a sneaking suspicion that I would still have a use for both decampment cylinders by the end of the day.
The stirring sound of someone awakening with a loud yawn roused me from my ruminations. Daring sat up from her spot on the gravely ground looking strangely bright eyed and bushy tailed. ‘Guess she’s a morning person’ I mused, not surprised in the least.
“G’Morning, how is our intrepid adventuress feeling today?” I asked with a chipper tone.
“Ready to take on the world” She chirped with equal pleasantry as she completed her own morning stretch routine.
“Ambitious, I like that. But I’d suggest starting small with Owl-who-zotle and his glorified thugs” I quipped.
“Ahuizotl” She corrected, “But that can wait, breakfast first!” She then reached for her pack, opened it, and tossed me a power bar along with one of the dented canteens; doing the same for herself.
I bit into it, almost wincing at its dryness. I chewed carefully before swallowing and stifling a shudder as it went down. “Well… it ain’t no hot pocket, but it still beats nothing” I muttered.
“Hot pocket?” Daring asked, intrigued.
“It’s basically a pocket of bread with filler inside; meats, veggies, whatever you want. One just has to pop it into a special device known as a microwave and in forty five to sixty seconds you got a hot meal ready to eat!” I took another bite of the dreadful power bar from hell as I completed my tiny lecture on the marvels of microwave appliances and processed food.
“Wow! I can’t tell you how many times that would have worked wonders for me!” She exclaimed, clearly astonished with this small aspect of home.
“I should plan a visit someday” She murmured offhand to herself.
“You’re an adept traveler Daring, but I doubt even you can cross jump dimensions” I dubiously sniped, before realizing my mistake. ‘Crap!’
“Dimensions? Didn’t you tell me you were foreign born?” She asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yeah… one hundred percent American. You won’t find it on any map here” I reluctantly explained, resigned to paying the price for this small penalty.
“American huh? I like the ring of it. Well c’mon American, let’s go” She made way into the depths of the cave, apparently unconcerned with the alien dimension clause.
‘Huh, I expected more than that. Maybe the universe is giving me a break?’ My expression became deadpan, ‘Ha! Fat chance of that happening’ I thought sardonically before jogging to catch up with my oddly permissive partner.
As we treaded further down the deepening fathoms of the cave, I was rather confused by the uncannily warm draft of air kissing our skin much like when I re-entered the climate barrier of the Krystal Kingdom with the guys.
“You know? The air is getting awfully warm for the bowels of a snow capped mountain” I observed out loud.
“In my experience, something as atypical as that means that we’re getting close to where we need to be” She replied with a strange sage like tone.
“Okay Obi-Wan, I’ll take your word for it. Have blaster will travel after all” I referenced, by this point Daring had gotten used to my analogies so she didn’t bother asking.
I instinctively knew that we were inevitably going to happen across something spectacular, but what we uncovered was something out of a journey to the center of the Earth movie. We both paused at the outlet of the tunnel to marvel at what we witnessed. An honest to God Amazon style rainforest that was absolutely flourishing inside the massive chasm underneath the mountain. Large cracks in the ‘ceiling’ allowed for a good amount of sunlight to penetrate into the impossible garden. The stone walls of the mountain acting like a provisional greenhouse; warming the surrounding air to conditions favorable to the gargantuan growths of lush evergreen trees and bushes that we were seeing, it was actually quite humid too. Even the soil was rich and loamy instead of the rocky gravel I was expecting.
I stood there next to Daring absolutely stupefied. How could such a thing even exist? Then the answer whacked me with the figurative force equal to that of a falling coconut; some serious magic was at play here. As if to further support my speculation, the faint sound of streams of water graced my ears. Large branching veins of water that varied in width coursed and inundated throughout the impossible rainforest much like the vascular system of a complex organism. Upon further inspection, the water didn’t appear to be your average run of the mill Hydrogen Dioxide. It glittered and glistened regardless of whether or not it was reflecting the scant sunlight showering the jungle in concentrated spots. I was half tempted to drink from the stream out of curiosity, but I didn’t know what effects that would have had on me; I was still very wary of mysterious magics.
I had only one thing to say to this elaborate work of entwining nature and magic.
“Surreal” I breathed with apt fascination.
“And I thought I had a gift for understatement” My partner gave me a grin, “We should keep on moving; don’t want our Chalice thief to be granted immortality right?”
“Right” I nodded, and so we began navigating the thickets of the jungle with Daring occasionally stopping us to inspect any traces of our quarry that she could find. Tracks, crushed foliage, and other tells that alluded to the position of our Chalice thieves. The metaphorical breadcrumb trail was sparse but enough to point us in a general direction; give or take a few meters.
Despite the mesmerizing allure of such an unlikely occurrence, the forest was closer to being a façade in actuality. Other than the rushing streams of probable magic infused water, it was eerily quiet. There were no birds, no animals, or even insects inhabiting the bountiful boscage of trees and shrubs. It was offsetting enough to make me feel as if we were intruding upon something sacred and sacrosanct. I dropped the thought before it started to interfere with my better judgment; visceral fear is always a hindrance in my book. Although based on the looks from my partner’s face, she felt much the same. I felt compelled to reassure her and keep us both focused on our task as we entered a long clearing.
“We’re here with good intentions Daring, it’s not like we’re interfering with anything sanctified” I reasoned.
“I know that, but our ‘mutual’ friends don’t share that principle do they?” She said with unease, “I feel as if this place is watching our every move and silently judging us, I’ve seen more than my fair share of bizarre jungles but this one is up there”
“We’ll have to be on our best behavior then won’t we?” I smirked in response.
“How is it that you can make light of every situation?” She inquired with utmost puzzlement.
“Must be my flippant personality” I laconically replied with a chuckle, getting a disbelieving scoff from her in return.
Daring looked like she was about to say something in response, but a trap net crudely consisting of vines triggered with a sudden snap and up reared us off of our feet. It wasn’t a very large net either, intentionally meant for one person. So I was practically squashed upside down against my partner in a rather compromising position I must say.
‘Dude, you’ve never been closer to motor boating a girl in your life’ A prurient part of my brain took glee in pointing out.
‘I doubt she’d take kindly to that’ I strongly reminded myself.
Daring face was burning red by this point, whether in anger or embarrassment I could not tell. I couldn’t really move away from my spot without rattling her cleavage so I stayed perfectly still.
‘Not that you’re complaining of course’ The snippy side of my mind said.
‘Be that as it may, this isn’t exactly how I’d envision it’ I snarked back to myself.
“Well well well, if it isn’t the great Daring Do” A strongly accented voice proudly made itself known. Emerging from the brushwork was a large cloaked figure with a hood drawn over his face, along with two other brutish looking fellows. One of them had the black dotted skin of a leopard as a cowl while the other had the pristine white fur of a house cat?
‘I have my doubts about that one’s masculinity’ Even in dangerous situations I had a penchant for seeing the absurdity in things.
“And what’s this? An associate of yours perhaps? In such a bawdy adjoining no less! What company you keep with you, meddlesome tramp” He laughed a spiteful laugh, a grating noise most unpleasant. I haven’t even known him for a minute and already I loathed this pathetic excuse of a scumbag.
“Ahuizotl” Daring spat out his name as if it were laced with venom, “Still the same trap happy psychopathic jackass” Her recalcitrant response seemed to visibly irk him, but he seemed to shrug it off before sneering at us.
“Ever the contemptuous rebel I see, your antics on the locomotive cost me my loyal Scratch and Growl. But it matters little; your defiance will be over by the end of this day” He slithered his way over before removing his hood and fully revealed his grotesque pointy face. His sickeningly yellow eyes glaring into ours with a misplaced sense of self superiority.
“Before I kill you however, I want you to bear witness my ultimate ascent to Godhood! You shall know true despair… and then I will let you die”
As he finished his sentence, he fished a hand out of a pocket in his navy blue yellow trim robe. In his palm was some kind of green sparkling dust, which he proceeded to blow into our faces. I immediately started to feel woozy, like I worked multiple twelve hour shifts without any sleep. I fought very hard to stay awake, a lethargic glance toward my companion revealed to me that she had already succumbed to its sleep inducing effects. I felt my eyelids slowly begin to drift downwards; I only managed to keep them at slit level through sheer force of will alone.
I barely heard the antagonistic Ahuizotl bark orders to his subordinates to cut us down, we fell to the thankfully soft ground with a light thud. I counted myself fortunate that I stifled a grunt of discomfort lest I alert them to my awareness. They proceeded to pick us up and carry us over their shoulders; I didn’t even have the energy to make a snide mental comment that ‘Kitten’ as I decided to call him was rather gentle with his cargo. Daring however, was treated with the same courtesy as a sack of potatoes and was roughly manhandled by the Leopard skin wearing thug.
They carried us for either minutes or hours; it was very hard to tell the passage of time in my pseudo comatose like state. Whatever was in that dust also had hallucinogenic effects, colors warped and shifted and sounds were garbled and oddly echoed. That’s to say nothing of the messed up sights I experienced in my delirious condition.
‘D..amn… bas..tards… dru..gged… m..e..too?’ I thought with the speed of a stuttering sloth.
I did my best to remember any kind of landmark we passed in case the knowledge would come in handy later, given how much of the jungle looked the same I almost felt it a wasted effort. But my patience (not that I had a choice) was rewarded when we crossed a medium width ravine rapids using the fallen trunk of a tree, which strangely enough was still alive based on the vegetation growing on it; I noticed the most mundane things in my new state of awareness. Our kidnappers didn’t walk too much further after that, carrying us into yet another cave tunnel. This one was different though, the flow of water here sounded nearly torrential in strength. The atmosphere was lit by luminous green emerald like crystals that were bunched together into the walls and floor of the cave. There was also a deep resonating pulse in the air that reminded me of a heartbeat? I couldn’t be too sure, under the influence of the drug powder and all.
Our captors then deposited us on the cold stone floor; ‘Kitten’ did it affably while Daring was dropped unceremoniously like a pile of bricks. They proceeded to tie us together with rope bindings that felt ambiguously like Nylon. Remembering an old hostage survival trick, I kept my forearms as spaced apart as I could while they wrapped them in the rope. I tried my best to be discreet so they wouldn’t notice; regardless I had to give them credit since they still tied a mean knot. I sluggishly tested my bonds to see if my little trick paid off, turns out it did; I had enough leeway that I could move my hands around with some invaluable freedom.
His lackeys then took the liberty of dousing us with absolutely chilling water from their flasks, causing the both of us gasp and sputter reflexively and in indignation. I certainly felt awake now! I was cognitively dreading whether or not they poured any of that enigmatic magical water on us. But since the sheen of water soaking our clothes and skin did not shine to an overly obnoxious degree, I could safely surmise that we weren’t. However the quality of the water spilled on us was proving to be the least of our immediate concerns. I quietly bemoaned our negative situation; we were literally tied up at the moment, our captors were doubtlessly going to try and kill us, Daring’s arch nemesis was close to his goal of immortality and fathomless power, and to top it off our current main villain had a pike nose bigger than that of Adrien Brody.
‘Okay focus on the positives boyo, they haven’t bothered to confiscate your trump cards yet. You have just enough wriggle room that you can still reach for your Tantō, Daring is awake and pissed as all hell given how furiously she’s struggling right now, if you can successfully reach your knife and cut the bonds then you can grab the stun and smoke grenades and use them to surprise your oblivious opponents . Either they’re blind or some of the worst hired muscle in the history of flunkeys’ I finished with some slight critic mentality.
“How nice of you to join me in my hour of ultimate transcendence” Ahuizotl modestly stated, “I have been waiting a long time for an opportunity like this, the taste of my inevitably rise to power made even sweeter by my most troublesome adversary being delivered into my hands for final judgment”
He hadn’t even drunk of the water yet and he was giving us the ‘All powerful’ monologue. I would’ve rolled my eyes in annoyance had I not been so busy secretly reaching for my blade. Daring compounded the problem by continuing to struggle fruitlessly, guess she wasn’t the escape artist that Houdini was.
“Daring! Stop struggling, you’re making our chances of escape even slimmer!” I harshly (yet stealthily) whispered to her.
“And just what are you doing to help!?” She harshly whispered back.
“Just sit still and let me handle this, I’ve got them right where we want them” I confidently declared. Despite mutters of resentment, Daring complied amiably and resigned herself to sit still and glare daggers at our captors.
My previous statement was true since Ahuizotl was standing on a monticule in the cave near the shimmering water’s edge a few meters away from us with his two subordinates standing to his sides paying half attention to us and the other half to their master while holding metallic crossbows in their possession. I made a small mental note that ‘Kitten’ had an almost imperceptible look of regret on his face, as though he knew what he was doing was wrong but wouldn’t apostate himself out of some kind of misplaced principle of loyalty.
Disregarding that however, I writhed and squirmed in my bindings. Further freeing my hands so I could grasp the handle of my Tantō. With my left hand I eased the knife out of its smooth wooden scabbard, carefully running my fingers along the flat of the blade to avoid cutting myself. I twirled it in my fingers and began running it back and forth against my nylon chains. Slowly but steadily the rope began to unravel as I cut into it. I was relieved that Daring didn’t continue to keep struggling since I could accidentally cut her while trying to unleash us from our predicament. I originally wanted to blitz our detainers to buy enough time for Daring to escape untouched but I immediately recognized two things wrong with that idea, we came for the Chalice come hell or high water, and Daring was much too headstrong to retreat after coming this far. So I instantly threw that plan into the rubbish bin, I decided to let Daring in on my little plan as I grew closer to releasing us.
“Psst! Dee Dee! Want to be let in on a little secret?” You could practically hear the grin in my voice.
“About time you decided to tell me! Yes I do wanna know!” She responded.
“I’m just about free of this infernal knot, and then I’m gonna free you. Before you go rushing headlong at them, I’m going to stun them using the same trick I took the feral snow dragon down with. However, I’ll give you the means to cover our escape in the form of a smoke grenade. Okay?” I asked.
“Sounds as good as any plan I could have come up with” She said with a tone of approval.
“Good, because I’m free now” I sliced through the last threads keeping my arms bound together. To avoid rousing attention, I kept facing our opponents and their leader who was still monologuing and dedicated myself to setting Daring free.
“I originally was going to contrive something diabolical that would slowly yet surely seal your doom, but since you have an irritating tendency to subvert all attempts at killing you with some style, we’re just going to attach a weight to you and toss you both into the water. What better way to kill two pesky rats than by drowning them? Of course, the codex says that the Chalice of Sombra grants both power and immortality but as long as one is immersed in the aqua vitae they are effectively everlasting” He began to chortle darkly, “Oh wouldn’t that be fitting, an eternity of drowning without ever being able to die! This day gets better and better!”
His hideous chuckle became joyous laughter, believing his vengeance to have become that much more malicious; well not if I had anything to say about it. I felt Daring start to hyperventilate as he said that; was she aqua-phobic? Never the less, I wrapped a free hand around her arm in a comforting fashion before crooking my head towards her and gave her reassuring wink. It had the desired effect and Daring visibly perked up, I needed her to keep absolute focus if this was to succeed.
“Your death traps never were any good at holding me” Daring snidely remarked, ending Ahuizotl’s laughter and replacing his mirth with anger.
“Yes… well perhaps if you stayed in them long enough to actually die, I wouldn’t have to repeatedly formulate interesting ways to kill you would I?” He spat rhetorically, before resuming his off settling smile.
“As I said before, it matters not. I shall rise to Godhood, and you and your misfortunate companion shall fall” He pompously stated, just as I finished freeing Daring from the roping.
He then began to reach into his robe and pull out the Crystal Chalice; it was quite a beautiful thing actually, it was carved out of a rich rose color gemstone and inlaid with ovular delectable orange carnelian stones alongside with sterling silver rimming. Ahuizotl then started to silently chant something that had a menacing and evil undertone to it and the Chalice took on that familiar shadowy, almost smoke like aura and floated down to the water’s edge before proceeding to dip itself into the water and scoop out a generous portion of eternal life giving liquid. We had to act quickly lest our job become that much more difficult, the upside was that his henchmen were busy gazing in awe at the display to pay significant attention to us.
“Okay Dee Dee, here’s the smoke grenade. To activate it just pull the ‘O’ shaped ring and toss it, this thing will spew out a whole lotta smoke so it should conceal our escape well enough that we don’t get automatically pegged in the back with cross bolts. Wouldn’t want to take an arrow in your other shoulder would you?” I grinned at her jestingly; she took it in stride and grinned back.
“You never cease to surprise me in the strangest ways Zenith” She spoke with a mystified tone as she took in my canister shaped ace in the hole.
“Yeah well I’m one of kind” I wholeheartedly replied with a shrug, “Let’s just stop this madman once and for all. Oh and before I forget, I’ll need you to cover your eyes and ears and look away for a few seconds” She looked confused but followed my instructions regardless.
Ahuizotl took the Chalice and held it like a socialite would retain a highball. Before he drank of it though, he couldn’t resist gloating once last time; it would prove to be his greatest undoing.
“Any last words before I gain ultimate power and we send you down the rrriver so to speak?” He said as he swirled the water in the cup with his index finger.
‘Ugh, the way this guy rolls his R’s makes me wanna shank him in the throat… wait. That’s exactly what I’m going to do!’ I grinned ferociously.
I primed my flash bang before rolling the canister right between the power mad aristocrat and his goons. I then took my own advice and covered both my eyes and ears, waiting for the inevitable disorientating explosion of light and noise. It came alright, louder and brighter than ever since I didn’t have the luxury of cover behind a rock this time. Still, I sprang to my feet and charged forward with my Tantō in hand. I steamrolled past Ahuizotl’s hunched over dazed bodyguards who dropped their weapons to clutch their faces, before impaling him straight through his neck far cry style. Blood spurted like a leaky valve out both ends as his shrunken pupil eyes widened further in surprise before closing lifelessly, his death gurgle cut off quite literally by my blade obstructing his wind pipe. The legendary cup falling to the floor with a clatter, spilling it’s fabled contents all over the rough ground of the cave.
“How about yippee ki yay mother f*cker!?” I growled, disgusted by this power lusting abominable excuse for a man. I then took the liberty of Spartan kicking him into the pool of immortal life granting water below. His body fell with a splash before sinking to the bottom without further adieu. The patch of water his body disturbed then took on a sinister black tint, as if the body was most pestilent.
‘Looks like I just poisoned the water hole’ I drily observed.
Of course once the contamination of the water was complete, the entire cave started to rumble and shake as if it were in the process of collapsing. A fissure in the Earth opened up and in a most inconvenient fashion; the Chalice rolled its way into the abyss.
“No! We did not come this far to fail now!” Daring; who apparently recovered from the stunning effects of the flash bang, threw herself after the grievous grail. She slid over the edge before keeping one handhold on the ledge; I rushed over to pull her back up. The Chalice landed on a shelf just below Daring’s reach, if she continued to extend herself she could fall to oblivion. A portion in the back of my mind drew some parallels between this and a certain trilogy ending movie and sought to remind me of this.
“Daring!” She didn’t notice me shouting at her, only when her hand slipped and I grabbed it did she turn back, “Daring…. Let it go”
And like the words were magic, Daring reached up to grab my arm with both hands. I hoisted her up with haste since the cave was still collapsing around us. Once she was back on her feet safely, I glanced back at the Chalice. The smartest choice would have been to leave it there, but I vowed that I would fetch it for her Royal highness back in the Krystal Kingdom. The gap was quite narrow, even with my ethereal wings it would have been a tight fit and time wasn’t exactly on my side.
‘Oh what I wouldn’t give to have some kinda telekinesis right now!’ I thought regrettably.
Then the oddest thing happened, an aura of bright red surrounded the Chalice and floated it right into my open hand. I would have spent the next few seconds dumbstruck were it not for an alarmingly large stalactite spearing the ground right next to me. I got off my knees and made for the exit, a screen of thick gray smoke beginning to fully veil it. I sprinted through it with my prize safely stowed away and took to the air of the gargantuan forest micro biome. Hoping to spot my companion underneath all of the vegetation was a fool’s errand, so I made for one of the clearings and prayed that she’d think along the same lines. Either the universe was finally cutting me a break from all the boons it granted me or I was just plain fortunate because no sooner than I landed did Daring burst out of the brushwork and straight into me. Because of my stalwart positioning and Daring’s lighter frame, I cushioned the blow from her momentum with an embrace. She looked slightly happy to see me but she was also acting frantic.
“Something the matter?” I asked with a droll expression.
To answer my question, two cross bolts screeched past me and burrowed into the bark of a nearby tree trunk. I can’t believe I already forgot about the other two! They emerged from the bushed looking quite enraged; or at least the leopard guy did, ‘Kitten’ had an indecisive look on his face. They were reloading their crossbows on the move but it still bought us time to beat a quick retreat, there wasn’t really a path to follow but I reminded myself of the fallen tree acting as a bridge over the rapid flowing waters below as we dodged both obstacles and arrows.
As fate would have it, the sound of rushing waters graced our ears about two minutes after I joined the running of the Daring. I gesticulated towards the bridge to Daring, who caught the hint and followed my lead this time. I saw her reach into her messenger pack and pull out one of the dynamite rods she collected earlier before pulling out what looked like a primitive lighter composed of flint and steel and triggered the mechanism. Using its sparks she lit the boom stick and as we were rushing over the fallen tree, dropped it into one of the hollows with a mischievous grin on her face. Our tailing aggressors had no idea what hit them as the wood beneath their feet erupted. The blast consumed the leopard guy and sent ‘Kitten’ hurdling into the deluge below. Despite the fact that they both tried to kill us (Or at least I think so, Kitten’s shots always went wide) I hoped he was at least spared a gruesome fate for being the one genial and benign thug of the bunch.
Seeing as we were no longer being pursued, we both used that moment for a breather. I recollected everything I’ve experienced since waking today and starting snickering like it was something out of a really badly written story.
“What’s so funny? We risked life and limb and were denied the prize!” Daring asked irksomely, rather frustrated with what she perceived as a failure.
“Au contraire mon cheri” I snorted in my best stereotyping accent, “I have the prize right here” I held out the Chalice for her to see, her eyes widened in surprise and she looked at me in disbelief.
“B-but how?” She stuttered.
“My natural charm acts as a magnet for enigmatic chalices” I suggested with a wag of my brow, “That and I’d rather risk the injury than deal with dreadful paperwork” I shuddered; paperwork was the real villain here, its evil schemes to torture me have been foiled this day!
Daring threw her hands up in supreme exasperation and whined in frustration.
“You know something? I’ve given up trying to understand you. You’re about as expressive as a statue one moment, then the next you’re extremely eccentric, you’re about as capable looking as a cute puppy, yet you’re able to keep pace with me! A veteran adventurer! You’re just weird” She lamely finished as she ended her rant.
I puffed out my chest with self-admiration, “Why thank you, I pride myself on being unique” Eliciting a hopeless groan in response.
“Do you really think of me as a cute puppy?” I added as an afterthought, getting a small blush out of her.
“W-what? I never said anything of the like!” She deflected while looking away awkwardly.
I pressed no further, not wanting to agitate her any longer. We trekked our way out of the jungle and back toward the cave we exited from hardly an hour ago. We made our trip in silence, Daring apparently was quite flustered from earlier and didn’t wish to speak on the subject at all. And I was perfectly alright with that, contented to just enjoy the silence that had descended upon this crazy morning. We drew closer to the exit of the cave out of the mountain when were heard the cocking sound of a crossbow behind us, whipping around we saw the drenched form of ‘Kitten’ unsteadily holding his weapon pointed at us. I half expected something like this to happen so I blocked Daring with an outstretched arm. Something about my gaze must have spoken volumes because the man looked even more indecisive than ever. I used that lull to speak my peace.
“Your master is vanquished and his endeavors fruitless. I know that deep down you were well aware that what he was doing was unnatural and wrong. But for whatever reason be it loyalty, contract principle, or fear of retribution he can no longer threaten anyone anymore. If you wish to start righting some of his wrongs, you can come with us back to the Kingdom. I promise that I will speak on your behalf with the highest authority there to insure that you get some leniency or maybe even amnesty under the clause that your hands were tied (so to speak)” I reasoned with him, but I was also going to remind him of the consequences should he choose otherwise.
“However…” At this my tone became colder than the void of space, “If you decide to stay the path of evil and attack us, you will fail, you will die here, and your story will have ended on a flat note with no one, save us to remember your last deeds as a human being. Make your choice” He visibly flinched at that, his already shaking hands wobbled violently before dropping the vile weapon altogether. Hitting the ground with a clattering noise. His hands fell by his sides and he looked at the floor much like a child would when they’ve been caught doing something wrong.
“I don’t want to continue doing this anymore” He spoke with a voice as light as a whisper.
“You don’t have to. What’s your name?” I can’t keep calling him Kitten after all.
“Jomar” It wasn’t what I was expecting, but it could have been stranger.
“Well Jomar, how would like to start anew?” I asked, giving as pleasant a smile as I could.
He looked me in the eyes and I could see intense alleviation in them; “It would mean everything to me” I nodded in understanding.
“Splendid! Then let’s ditch this place” I did a heel face and marched out of the cave, my companion was busy picking her jaw off of the floor. She eventually recovered and caught up to me.
“Are you crazy!? He’s one of Ahuizotl’s thugs! He could have killed us!” She admonished me.
“He had ample opportunity today, but he chose not to. Didn’t you notice this?” I enquired of her.
“Yea? Since when?” She asked dubiously.
“Since the train fiasco, since we were tied up in the cave, and since he and the other guy chased us through the jungle” I listed mechanically.
“Wasn’t he actually trying to kill us back then?” She said with doubt lacing every word. I had little doubt that her previous bad experiences with the Wild Cat mercenary group had left a biased impression of them on her.
“I pay attention to these things Daring, didn’t you see the immense conflict going on behind those eyes? He internally knew that he was in the wrong line of work but couldn’t exactly leave or his ‘friends’ would have done to him what they tried to do to us. Talk about being in between a rock and a hard place”
I glanced behind to see the former merc trudging in the snow behind us. I didn’t quite fully trust him, but if he was willing to see the error of his former ways and change for the better, then I was willing to give him that chance. I looked back at my partner and gave her a roguish smirk.
“At least you’ll have a hell of a story for your publisher!” I chuckled.
Based on the upward twitch on her lips, she could at least agree with that sentiment.
Chapter 9: Explanations, Celebrations, and a Capital Egress
As expected, Daring remained untrusting of our recently joined ‘acquaintance’ Instead choosing to perpetually keep him within her line of sight with a hand placed firmly on her bullwhip. She had him pacing ahead of us with his hands shown at all times so he couldn’t try and pull a fast one on us. I didn’t even bother with persuading her that Jomar (Pronounced Ja-mar) as he said he was called, had decided to turn over a new leaf. Of course I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced either, but I made no effort to antagonize him with visible signs of distrust. We faced a long and chilly walk through the wintered lands back to the site of the train wreck, one which I was content to remain silent and ruminate on a previous action that caused me a good deal of inner turmoil.
‘There’s human blood on my hands now’ I glanced down at them, seeing the crimson stains of a slain enemy coating my skin in darkened splotches ‘Granted he was a despicable disgrace to the male race…yet I still don’t feel anything even remotely approaching remorse… in fact, I even feel vindicated. Why does that thought scare me? Have I truly become so jaded that I can just end a life and feel absolutely nothing except halfhearted afterthoughts?’
I scowled plaintively. Perhaps I should cease bickering with myself over this, what’s done is done. I did what I had to save myself and my trusted companion from a fate that could have been worse than death. In doing so, I also prevented a sociopathic madman from gaining an absurd amount of power along with eternal life in one fell stroke. I would not allow my own self-reflective nature to weigh me down in guilt over my apathetic emotional response to my actions, however questionable they seem. Daring; evidently wanting to break the silence, unwittingly exacerbated the issue with a question.
“When you said that Ahuizotl was vanquished earlier, what did you mean? That loud flashy device of yours drowned out everything for me except seeing the Chalice roll into that fissure. Still can’t believe you got the Chalice instead of me” She murmured the last bit with some jealousy; but I was too busy coming up with a discursive answer for what I did to really make note of it.
“Let’s just say that he won’t be bothering you again on any of your future expeditions” I euphemistically replied, hiding my stained hands inside my jean pockets.
“You still haven’t answered me fully, how did you subdue him? I’m never able to apprehend him because he keeps slipping away like the greasy snake he is” She derisively spoke, “He’s always had this annoying tendency to come slithering back to haunt my next trip into the wild”
“I trached him Daring… he won’t be coming back from that” I sardonically retorted.
“Oh..” Was all she had to say, no doubt contemplating having one less rival to deal with.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” She then asked; her tone was irritatingly sympathetic.
“There’s nothing to talk about” Was my brusque response; I didn’t need someone to play me the thinly disguised pity card. Daring however was not one to simply let sleeping dogs lie.
“First time huh? I know it’s not an easy feeling to cope with… but in the end it was either us or him” She ratiocinated with empathy.
“I get that Daring. I don’t need to be told something I already made clear for myself” I concluded in a tone that indicated the end of this particular conversation.
“You seem awfully accepting of this” She remarked with some incredulity evident in her voice.
“I’ve had to accept a lot of things since arriving to this phantasmagorical land” I sagaciously stated, well aware of how many of my personal paradigms were pulverized like so many popped bubbles.
“Well if you ever need someone to confide in over this, then I’m your gal” She gave me a comforting smile.
“Preferably over a drink” She added with a good humored chuckle, I merely scoffed at her tippler and cavalier outlook.
“I’d be more than happy to buy you one, but I don’t partake myself” I told her with a shake of my head.
“Is that a poorly disguised attempt at flirting I hear?” She jestingly poked at me.
Deciding to play along I wiggled my eyebrows at her, “Mayhaps it is, what say you to that my fair lady?” I tend to slip into Shakespearean verbiage when I’m attempting to be suave. Although based on the faint blush I’m seeing, this might be one of the few times that it was successful instead of overly histrionic.
“I’d say… that I would be more than delighted to imbibe by your coin, provided that you don’t call me a lady” She playfully smirked at me.
I shrugged, “Fair enough”
I saw Jomar giving us strange looks in the peripherals of my vision, so I decided to bring him into the fold of the discussion.
“So feel free to tell us about yourself Jomar, we’ve still got a bit of a walking back to our destination”
I saw him hesitate momentarily before speaking in that strange accent of his.
“What would you like to know?”
“Well for starters… why do you wear that ghastly looking pelt?” I inquired.
He bristled up as if he were offended, “This ghastly pelt” he stated as he pulled at the furry lapels, “Represents my spirit animal, men of my homeland are preordained by the village shaman as either spirit warriors or otherwise”
“So your spirit animal was foretold as an ordinary feline housecat?” I asked with some confusion.
He visibly flustered at the emasculating implications, “My spirit animal symbolizes my versatility of uses as a warrior. The others could only be fearsome and ferocious, but I would not be so one sided; I organized our agendas and itineraries whenever we traveled, I cooked all of our meals, maintained our weapons, even convinced them to use stealth instead of violence in many of our employments! Mine was anything but ordinary!” His normally quiet voice had risen to near shouting levels by the end of his fulmination and his complexion was florid with indignation.
I held up my hands in a peaceful gesture, “Relax! I meant nothing by it, I was simply curious is all”
He suddenly looked ashamed at his outburst, looking away from us before speaking in hushed tones, “Forgive my misdemeanor; it is not the first time I have believed my personal honor was besmirched for what I saw as arrogance instead of ignorance” He explained.
“Don’t sweat it, misunderstandings happen” Was my downplaying response, Daring had tightened her grip on her whip when the man had his paroxysm and I didn’t want to accidentally start up hostilities again.
“I still don’t like this” Daring muttered to me, evidently displeased with our company.
“Would you rather we did to him what we did to his comrades?” I harshly whispered to her so Jomar would not overhear.
“Of course not! But this still makes me uncomfortable, Jomar might have been tame compared to the others but he’s still part of the mercenary group that tried to kill me on several different occasions” She flicked her eyes in his direction for emphasis.
“Did he ever try to kill you directly?” I asked, raising my brow in inquisition.
“Well..” She hesitated, “Not exactly, but he didn’t try to convince his buddies to hold back on me either”
“Would you try to dissuade someone from eliminating a threat to the guy who hired your mercenary services?” I reasoned, “I get that his group tried to kill you, but they’ve recently become deceased and their last member is willing to take a new lease on life. And I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt despite the fact that the Wild Cats tried to kill me too. If you don’t share that sentiment then that’s fine but don’t antagonize him for it, you wouldn’t be giving him much of a reason to keep his mind set on turning over a new leaf would you?” I gave her some time to mull that thought over.
As she did, I directed more of my inquiries at Jomar about his home and the culture of his people. He informed me to the best of his ability, pointing out that it had been a long time since he had seen his ‘heartland’ as he called it. Apparently the travel abroad life of a merc meant significant sojourns away from home. I was tempted to ask if he left any family behind but realized that even if the answer was yes I didn’t want him to feel homesick, kind of like how I was feeling myself now that I brought it up.
‘Oh damn it! I just had to inadvertently remind myself of that’ I mentally chastised myself. This was not the time to yearn for the world I left behind, even if I had no say in the matter.
By now we had progressed far enough that the still smoking wreckage of the rail cars was visible on the horizon. Also in view were the men indubitably sent out to assess the situation, having arrived by handcars pulling a rudimentary passenger flatbed that carried the majority of their numbers; which were about a dozen in total. I cut my conversation with Jomar short and instructed him to stay within eyesight of Daring and allow me to talk with them beforehand. He looked apprehensive, no doubt fearing for his prospective health. I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him an earnest expression.
“I promised that I would vouch for you and my word is something I intend to keep, so dread not ol’ chum” He looked confused at my choice of words but calmed down none the less; perhaps it was the careful enunciation of my proposal or the sincere truth in my eyes.
Regardless, I set off towards the guards patrolling the area around the crash site. One of the patrols spotted me and called out to the others, once I got to within engaging distance they had four men armed with long spears surround me and delegated the rest of themselves to train their crossbow reticules on me.
“Halt! By their Royal Majesties’ authority you are to state your name and reasons for interfering in in Royal Guard business or prepare to be subdued and prosecuted!” They droned in concert and in clearly rehearsed tones.
‘I do believe that I’m starting to dislike the overwhelming uniformity of the Royal Guard’ I drily thought to myself.
“I need to speak to your commanding officer regarding the hijacking and subsequent derailing of this individual train” I stated in a voice that implied that I would not be browbeaten in submissiveness.
They looked like they were about to respond when a familiar looking man with ice blue irises and donning purple chest armor with yellow trim and a fancy looking waist cape stepped out from their ranks. He also had some pretty kick ass looking gauntlets too, but I digress.
“I am in command here, Prince Shining Armor of the Krystal Kingdom. You still haven’t identified yourself yet, are you the one who disrupted my coaching of the Krystal athletic team and created a mountain’s worth of paperwork for me to deal with?” He was glowering at me by the end of that sentence. I would too if our positions were reversed, to hell with paperwork… seriously man.
I put on a rebellious grin, “Is that anyway to address one of the people who prevented this type of catastrophe” I gestured to the debris strewn everywhere, “From happening to the grand city of the Krystal Kingdom a second time?”
“What do mean? Explain yourself!” He demanded.
“Let’s just say her Royal Highness Princess Cadence dispatched my companion and me to retrieve and by extension foil the plans of the fiends who stole the Crystal Chalice” I elucidated.
He gave me an appraising and measured stare, “So you’re the one Caddy spoke of, and where is your companion?” He asked.
‘Caddy? Is that his pet name for her? Real cute’ I humorously noted.
“Over that there yonder hill” I pointed out with a thumb and a skylit drawl. Because…why not? I disregarded the ‘Who is this wacko?’ looks I got from Princey for that remark.
Evidently Daring noticed my gesturing and took it as the signal to reveal herself and our ‘Prisoner’ for lack of a better word. Apparently she didn’t take any chances with Jomar and bound his hands together with her bull whip. Despite the somewhat rough treatment he was getting, Jomar complied without any resistance. Maybe my words reassured him that he would be treated fairly, I would make it a point to make good on that guarantee. I turned back to the former Captain turned Prince who was motioning orders to his guards to evaluate and secure both of them.
“We brought back one of the culprits, he willingly surrendered himself and I expect him to be treated with leniency as such” I stated with an official tone.
The Prince scowled at my onerous terms, “That’s not for you to decide” He gruffly replied.
“No it’s not, that would be for the Princess to decide wouldn’t it?” I reminded him, trying to keep the snide tone out of my response.
“Indeed it shall be, and you’re going to be the one to explain to her how this fiasco managed to get so out of hand. I suggest getting comfy; it’s a long haul back to the station via the handcars” He rallied the men under his command together with a sweeping motion of his hand in the air as my companions and I were ushered onto the passenger flat bed for the ride back into the Krystal Kingdom.
⁂
“Hey Zenith, wake up!” I felt someone poking the back of my head, rudely rousing me from my cat nap.
“Alright I’m awake I’m awake! Stop poking me!” I slapped the offending hand away and admonishingly stared at the person who had the gall to prod me awake.
“About time you got up, we’ve been here for five minutes!” Daring spoke without any guilt what so ever and oodles of impatience instead. I just rolled my eyes in annoyance and sat up in the mind boggling comfy bench style seat. Since hand cranked rail cars are obscenely slow, the travel back had taken three times as long as it normally would; so one could excuse me for utilizing that time for some shut eye. Either I was more beat from today’s insane activities or the chairs were enchanted to be fatiguing.
‘I’m betting on the first, enchanting a chair for any reason kinda seems like a waste of magicks now that I think about it’
The station was free of people, most likely because of the hijacking that occurred yesterday and the brightly colored wooden barricades encapsulating the station. So I was thankful there weren’t any prying eyes on either myself or on Jomar, who was being escorted away by several guards. Shining Armor and a few soldiers that remained with their liege were to accompany us to the Citadel and doubtlessly to the Princess. I internally groaned, explaining to Cadence why a simple retrieval caused so much damage to public assets was going to be a real drag. And then there was my caretaker Crystal Clear who was probably worried sick in light of my preliminary meeting with the Princess having also occurred yesterday and I haven’t returned since then.
‘Oh this day just keeps getting better and better!’ I groused to myself.
I was honestly expecting Shining Armor to be a little less reticent, not that I minded the silence since it gave me time to rehearse my recounting of the events that happened since I last spoke to the Princess; but it gave me the distinct feeling that he would protest vehemently to my reasonable request that Jomar be treated with fairness and dignity. My partner was oddly silent too, but for reasons that I could not possibly speculate on. Our little procession through the city did inevitably draw a few stares, but most people had the courtesy to keep to themselves and mind their own affairs.
As we reached the Citadel and began climbing those accursed stairs again, I started getting more anxious with each and every step. I mean I’m terrific at making my summaries short, succinct, and simple but I have the feeling that Cadence will want something more substantial. And I don’t want to reveal everything in its entirety since I didn’t even understand some of the things that happened.
‘I mean, how exactly did the Chalice levitate itself to me? And that Red aura surrounding it carries some significant implications that I’m not terribly comfortable with. Perhaps I’m overthinking it…. I hope’
We passed by numerous Citadel staff going about their various duties; our group even passed by Indigo Jade who gave me a rather vivacious look, only for her to be swiftly spooked off by a particularly intimidating growl from Daring who simultaneously moved closer to me in response.
‘Don’t know whether to be flattered or terrified of this new development’ I confoundedly mused to myself.
‘Daring used growl! It’s super effective!’ My immature side unabashedly referenced.
‘Ha! Nice one brain’ I stifled a snort of amusement.
By now we had finally reached the throne room of the Crystalline Castle, with a rather placid looking Cadence awaiting us on the Royal chair. The hardened scowl on Shining Armor’s face practically melted off of his face once his saw his beloved and was replaced with a joyous smile. An action which was mirrored by the Princess once she laid her eyes on him, she rose from the throne and rushed forward to embrace him. I politely turned away while they had their ‘somewhat’ public display of affection and elbowed Daring to catch her attention; “I told you so” I smugly chimed to her, making her roll her eyes in mild bemusement. A quick clearing of someone’s throat broke us out of our banter.
“So..” The Princess let the pause hang in the air, “Perhaps you would like to explain the mass amounts of havoc created yesterday?” She sounded decidedly neutral; perhaps she was saving judgment until after the facts.
“Right, where do I start…?” I murmured to myself.
“The beginning would be nice” Shining snarked, only to be shushed by his wife for being rude.
I held my chin in my fingers in a classic thinker’s pose, “Well, I’ll retell what happened exactly after we last talked Princess. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I’ll answer them to the best of my ability” She didn’t look entirely pleased with my ambiguous phrasing but nodded in agreement anyway.
“I relayed the pass words to the guards at the bottom of the hidden staircase and Daring here had a field day with all of the historical goodies residing inside the repository room” The aforementioned woman scoffed at what she thought was a hyperbole from me, “I investigated the spot where the scuffle between your guards and the assailants took place-”
“Did you find out who was behind all of this treachery?” She promptly asked without lapsing into a forceful tone.
“I’m getting to that. Anyway, your palace staff must have left the crime scene untouched because I came across a page that was torn out from Sombra’s secret codex that was probably left behind to taunt and intimidate those who came across it”
“And what did it say?” Shining asked, who was actually enveloped in my tale.
I took a moment to dredge up the memory from the depths of my mind, and spoke in a foreboding voice that would make any bard proud.
“It was prophetic in nature, and spoke of possible danger at a future juncture” I realized that I unintentionally rhymed that.
‘Oh no! I’m turning into Zecora!’ I shook myself out of the ridiculous notion and focused on the task at hand.
“If eternal life is what you seek; then prove your mettle to be more than meek If your fears you cannot greet; then death you shall never cheat Pass through the darkened doors to enlightenment; or else abandon your dreams of eternal entitlement Those with pure intentions will succeed; those with greed should pay heed This task can make the strongest break; the one from beyond, the very earth shake”
As I recalled this word by word, the last clause of the prophecy raised multiple alarms in my head. My arrival was already foretold! And by the likes of Sombra no less! From Cadence’s wide eyed reaction, I had a hunch that she had a revelation of a similar nature. She recovered from her shock quickly though, with no one else noticing save for me.
“This is… unexpected, but please continue” She asked with a small hint of hesitation.
“Of course… remember those doorways you warned me about?” My carefree voice letting her guess the rest.
She gasped, “I told you to avoid those! They were left as insidious traps by Sombra to mentally torture any trespassers”
“Yes, well in this case they acted as real doorways to where we needed to go. Dee and I both chose a door and faced our inner most fears”
“Oh I imagine that must have been dreadful!” Cadence sympathized.
“The first two were rather mundane really… but the last one was absolutely gut wrenching” My gaze drifted off, staring outside at the denizens daintily going about their day below without a care in the world it seemed.
“He still hasn’t told me about that one” Daring spoke with an almost accusatory tone, completely disregarding the fact that she wasn’t open with me with what she saw either.
“Later” I sighed, the memory of that last obstacle was still painfully fresh.
“I won’t press you to tell us about them, but what happened afterwards?” The Princess inquired, even the normally inexpressive guards were raptly engaged in my story and were stealthily leaning in to hear it better.
“After our ordeal with the trapdoors, we were led to another staircase heading upwards this time”
“Yes, stairs seem to be a common theme here” Cadence giggled.
‘Finally! Someone else besides me notices this!’ I mentally gushed with glee.
“Yes quite, anyhow Dee and I climbed them and reached the very top of this Citadel” I emphasized this by gesturing upwards.
“But that can only be reached by air! And there was no staircase leading there when I explored the Castle” Cadence remarked with confusion.
I shrugged, “Magic is as magic does, just plain weird like that” Receiving understanding nods from just about everyone in the room.
“Continuing onward and upwards, we reached the peak of this shimmering tower only to find another incarnation of the Crystal Heart just floating there serenely as if it were waiting for us the whole time”
“How can that be?” Cadence wore a perplexed expression, “To my knowledge there is only one Crystal Heart in existence”
“Well if it makes you feel any better, this one acted as a sort of shimmering lighthouse compass thingie showing us the direction where we needed to go. It may very well have been a projected facsimile, perhaps you can verify that for yourself after I finish recounting our most recent experiences” I eloquently reassured the Princess to which she nodded in appreciation. She seemed to be taking all this into account quite well, no hints of doubt or suspicion of any sort.
‘Perhaps people are more trusting here than what I’m used to’ I quietly mused.
“Let me guess, the same direction where the 3:10 to Yuema was scheduled to depart to?” Shining drily commented.
My brain stopped, ‘Did I hear that correctly? Whatever, don’t got time to ponder about the absurd amounts of cliché that I put up with, at least it ain’t a horse pun’
“The one and only…” I slowly confirmed, “Since we were on a short timetable, I nabbed Dee and we let gravity do its work. We made it groundside in record time”
“Recklessly” Daring grumbled behind me.
‘Oh she’s one to talk?’
“I’m sorry Dee, did I scare you?” I put on my troll worthy smile again, eliciting a chuckle out of everyone save for Daring who muttered a few choice expletives under her breath.
“There was an exceptionally vocal man voicing his grievances here yesterday, he said that one of you knocked over his grocer’s cart?” Shining stated with an unamused tone.
Deciding that this was a good way to extend an olive branch for teasing Daring, I cut her off before she could admit to her slight blunder.
“Yeah, we were kinda in a rush with the train about to leave and everything. I can cover his losses if need be”
“Really… all one hundred and thirty bits worth of it?” Shining dubiously said.
I grabbed my munny bag (That’s what I’m calling it from now on) and assorted the bits required to ‘pay the fine’ as it were. I was glad that the coins here operated under a sort of RPG style system, with the insignias and symbols on the coins denominating their worth; singular bits were blank on both sides, coins worth ten had a unified Arcanian banner glistening with pride, and the hundred pieces had the personalized symbols of the Sun and Moon Princesses respectively depicted side by side in a sort of equalizing portrayal. So with some simple calculations I pulled out a hundred piece and three banner coins before promptly tossing them to Shining, who caught it with his azure telekinetic grip.
“Not many people I know that have that much coin so casually on hand like that” He commented offhand to himself.
“Those were some pricey cabbages, but I’ve got plenty to spare” I shrugged apathetically; money was never really something I valued more than it needed to be.
“Moving on, Daring and I reached the train station only for it to pull out of the station without us! Granted it was in the process of being hijacked, but still! The nerve of those rapscallions, thinking they could give us the slip!” I paused to recollect myself before I delved into further melodramatics.
“So we gave chase, leaping across the gap between station platform and the rear most rail car; sticking the landing with style I might add. My intrepid partner here had already pushed on ahead of me to confront the deviants with myself not far behind. That’s when I first came into contact with the Wild Cat mercenaries-”
“So the troublemakers are finally revealed” Shining stated while crossing his arms to his chest.
“Indeed, they were a nasty bunch. Wielding razor sharp claw like gauntlets that one of them even had the chutzpah to set on fire before attacking me”
“How did you defend yourself? I don’t see a weapon on you” Shining noted suspiciously.
‘Is he blind? It’s the one strapped to my backside! Perhaps I should keep this newly discovered advantage to myself’ I quickly thought.
“I have my own ways of defending myself. Daring here also took them on using only her quick wits and lightning reflexes, it was quite something to behold” I complimented her ability, something that allowed her a self-satisfied grin to hang on her face.
“What can I say? You gotta think fast and move fast if you want to thrive in my line of work” She modestly boasted.
“And from what I saw on that locomotive, you are a prime example of that. Back to the story, I was assailed by one belligerent wearing the skin of a Lynx and wielding flaming claws of utter absurdity. We danced a little bit before he made a downward strike that I nimbly sidestepped. He got himself caught on one the crates and I use that moment to forcefully relieve him of his weapon via the leverage of an implement I used to defend myself, unfortunately that disarmed weapon manage to sail through the air and inconveniently land itself on a opened stack of TNT rods… you can probably assume the rest” I used the ensuing silence of my stunned audience to make an inquire of my own.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, what was dynamite doing on that train to begin with?” Shining shook himself out of his torpor to answer me.
“Yuema is a mining settlement to the northwest of here, that dynamite is what they use to pulverize the stubborn rocks keeping their precious metals entombed in the Earth. They won’t be happy to know that their next shipment will be late… guess who won’t be hearing the end of that?” He glared at me, only to be once again reprimanded by his wife for being thoughtless. She motioned for me to continue my retelling of the debacle.
“To avoid the fate of instant immolation, I ran like hell before the explosion took out the car and dislodged the others off of the tracks. I managed to get out in time, but the mook attacking me wasn’t as quick. Still, I couldn’t skedaddle fast enough to avoid the blast wave which sent me careening into one of the passenger car seats and subsequently myself into unconsciousness”
“Wow… even my first fray didn’t have such explosive results” Daring said in an awestruck tone.
“Yeah? Well the Universe just loves me!” I sarcastically retorted with the appropriate body language for extra emphasis. The amused smirks that my present company offered me didn’t exactly counter that statement. I once more resumed where I left off, feeling somewhat miffed at the thick Schadenfreude that clung to the air.
“When I came to, I was disoriented and slumped over in one of the seats inside of a rail car that was dangling over a cliff suspended only by metal framework connections that threatened to fail at any moment. As I was regaining my bearings, I heard movement coming from below me. And that’s when I saw Daring here clambering up the tattered rail cars like a Pro, she had just managed to get a handhold on the metal draft gear connecting the cars together when she started to lose her grip” For some reason there were sharp inhales of breath from my audience, despite the fact that the obvious ending to that particular tale was standing right next to me.
“I shimmied down as quickly as I could to aid her when she began to plummet. Yours truly took a leap of faith after her and caught her before we cratered into the rapidly approaching ground below, making good use of my wings to slow our descent to a standstill”
“Goodness! That must have been most distressful, but that was the worst of it yes?” The Princess asked with a nervous look, as if fearing that it would take a turn for the worse.
“Not just yet, the rail car that we previously inhabited used that moment to engulf us in its metallic maw. If the doors hadn’t been open on both ends, we wouldn’t be having this discussion right now” I nonchalantly remarked to the confusion of my listeners.
“How is it that you can be so casual about nearly meeting your end? Most men would have fallen to their knees and thanked the Royal sisters for their unexpected salvation” Shining spoke with justifiable vexation.
“The reason I can be so casual about such things is because if it’s not my time then it’s not my time. I won’t bother with that kind of paralyzing fear because it more often than not prevents you from doing what’s necessary to live another day. And secondly, there is only one being that would ever make me fall to my knees in eternal gratitude”
“And who would that be? Everybody knows that the Princesses are the most powerful beings on this planet, save for that chaotic cretin Discord” Shining mentioned with visible disdain at the end.
“That’s not something I’m obliged to share with you. And there’s more to majestic glory than power alone” Was my dismissive response, my intimate beliefs are just that to me; sacrosanct and intensely personal. The Royal Prince looked annoyed at my deflection but didn’t press for an answer after another pointed look from his wife.
‘I almost feel sorry for him; he’s all but completely domesticated’
“Back to where we left off, Daring and I had replanted ourselves on solid ground after our incident with the falling rail cars. We searched the area for the other brigands but found nothing but a set of three tracks leading towards one of the mountains. We followed it to an opening and settled down at the mouth of the cave for the night, having agreed that our quarry wouldn’t have a choice but do the same with the poor lighting conditions” I decided to glaze over our heart to heart conversation, that was between Daring and I alone.
“At first light, we trekked further into the tunnel of the cave until we came across a stupendous marvel of nature and magic intertwined as one”
“What did you see?” One the guards unexpectedly asked, only to realize his faux pas and snap upright as Shining turned his gaze reproachful upon him. I resumed my exposition as to draw attention away from him and keep the metaphorical ball rolling.
‘I’m such a nice guy’
“We saw an entire forest nestled deep within the bosom of the mountain, flowing streams of effulgent water coursing through it much like the veins inside our own bodies. The Sun’s rays were piercing the stony veil of the mountain and seeping in via cracks in the ceiling, providing illumination for us and energy for the autotrophs”
“I didn’t know you had a penchant for poetry Zenith! It’s astonishing to know you have such profound hidden depths behind that stolid demeanor of yours” The Princess complimented, a delighted flicker in her irises as she said that.
“There certainly is more to him than first glance would suggest. I’m glad you paired us together your Highness, we’re not a half bad team!” Daring enthusiastically agreed, the inflection lacing her words all but went unnoticed by me. Admiration perhaps? Or was there something more behind them?
I suddenly felt as if Cadence was scanning me with concentrated scrutiny. There was a strange gleam in her eyes as they flicked back and forth between us, the ghost of a smile tugging at her features. I would have written it off as a trick of the light but I’m pretty sure magic was somehow involved. Yet again, I feel unsure about the implications behind her actions. The distinct awareness that I had paused a tad too long forced me to put aside my thoughts on that subject and return to where I had once again left off.
“The forest was breathtaking and everything but we still had to track our Chalice thieves remember? So we set foot into the impossible jungle of trees and shrubbery. Despite all the verdant life, it was eerily silent since there was no ambient life to be found at all. The only noise to grace our ears was the trickling sound of the streams and the more forceful flow of the small rivers. All was going well until we suddenly sprung a hastily made trap net! We were practically immobilized (At least I was) and couldn’t manage to free ourselves before the mastermind behind this nefarious scheme revealed his foul face”
“What was his name? I’d like to know who had the gall to heinously incapacitate my guard and embarrass the good name of the Krystal Kingdom!” Shining exclaimed with frustrated emotion, no doubt his safeguarding reputation took a hit with the recent happenings.
“His name was Ahuizotl, Daring’s met him before. Said he was some rogue Highborn aristocrat from far off lands with ambitions of absolute power, hence why his latest plot was to steal that Chalice. Probably the closest he’s ever been to achieving his wretched goal” Daring’s grim nod served to confirm my assumption.
“He spouted a typical ‘I win and there’s nothing you can do to stop me’ gloat before puffing some kinda powder in our faces that acted like a combination of barbiturate and hallucinogen”
“Wait… how’d you know that it was hallucinogenic if it was a sleep inducing powder? Whatever that powder was; it was industrial grade! I was out within five seconds of that!” Daring loudly declared, clearly wondering how I stayed awake long enough to figure that out.
“It wasn’t easy, I felt more exhausted than I had in years. But I wouldn’t give into the demand to shut my eyes. I needed to stay awake, and through sheer stubborn will… I did. It paid off too, remember the tree trunk that acted as a bridge across the water’s gap?” I directed at Daring.
“I was wondering how you managed to find that avenue of escape first; you saw it and remembered it!”
“Certainly came in handy later huh?” I grinned roguishly.
“We’d never have shaken them off!” She vehemently agreed.
“Slow down please, you said that you were drugged first?” The Princess demurely interjected.
“Of course! Sorry for getting off track. So the belligerents and their sinister master took the both of us with them to some kind of enchanted spring. I swore that I felt a pulse not unlike a heartbeat resonating throughout the walls and the very air. They set us down on the floor and bound us together. Turns out Ahuizotl kept us alive and brought us there so we could witness his ‘inevitable rise to power’ and make us bask in the grief of our failure before tossing us into the water to drown. What they didn’t count on was that I had posed myself in such a way as to allow some leeway for my hands; I reached for anything I could find to get us free. As fortune would have it, there was a rather jagged piece of flint just close enough for me to scoop up and start cutting away at the thin ropes tying us together”
The last part was a lie, but if they couldn’t see my Tantō then what reason would I have to simply give that tidbit of vital information away? From the looks of things, they had bought it hook, line and sinker anyway. I’d never be able to pull off deception like that back home.
“So while our host so graciously bought me time to free ourselves by monologuing about his greatness nonstop, I let Daring (who was awake by this point) in on my plan to surprise our clueless opponents, I told her about some gadgets from home that I brought with me that would both stun our enemy and cover our escape”
“It’s true your highness, he handed me something he called a smoke grenade. It was a canister that was filled with some sorta magic that created thick smoke, perfect for getaways!”
She turned to me, “Do you have any more of that stuff? I could really find a use for it on my future excursions!”
“All you have to do is ask nicely dear heart” My little sobriquet for Daring was not lost on Cadence, who grinned to herself in a knowing fashion.
‘Or so she’s led herself to believe’ I cynically thought, unsure about my own feelings for the headstrong woman standing next to me.
“Once I freed the both of us, I blitzed them with my stunning canister before ‘dispatching’ the man about to drink from a filled Crystal Chalice” I paused momentarily, the action still weighed a little bit on my soul. I didn’t care for the looks I was receiving either, horrid shock for the Princess, grim and understanding sympathy from the Prince, even the guards looked like they were surprised that I had it in me. Before the pity party started, I headed off any responses they might have had.
“As his body sunk to the bottom of the ‘Well of Life’ as I decided to call it, it took on a revolting black hue thicker than pen well ink and the whole of the cavern began to quake. The Chalice; which had fallen from Ahuizotl’s grasp, began to roll into one of the fissures that were opening up in the Earth. Daring here dived after it but it was outside of her reach, I convinced her to let it go and get the hell out of there before it all came down over our heads”
I focused my attention on her, “Why did you listen to me anyway? You didn’t really heed any words I had to say before” I incredulously stated.
“That was before you managed to save my bacon twice, that changes the way a girl acquiesces to someone’s advice” She earnestly replied.
“Can’t argue with that, I know I’d listen to what someone had to say if they saved my favorite breakfast food on not one but two occasions!” I guffawed, completely cracking myself up. Everyone just rolled their eyes at jesting antics.
“Yeah I get it, I’m a complete dork. But at least I find myself funny!” I said between chuckles of endless amusement.
“So the Chalice is lost then?” The Princess said forlornly, the Chalice must have meant something to her. Good thing we didn’t lose it.
“Daring?” I raised my brow on cue.
“Nope, one Crystal Chalice as ordered!” Daring reached into her satchel and pulled out the ornate cup.
“But… how!? You told us that it rolled into a fissure!” The Princess exclaimed.
“Yes it did, I forgot to mention that it landed on a ledge just outside of arms reach. It was very narrow, but I had my wings remember? I just dropped down to it and used to wings to jump back up” Also not the complete truth, but what really happened was too unexpected to reveal just yet. Not until I had fully figured it out myself.
“After successfully retrieving the Chalice, Daring and I were pursued by the remaining two mercenaries who wielded crossbows. Daring lit some dynamite that she had acquired from the train wreck and planted it on the tree trunk that was acting as a bridge across one of the rivers. One of pursuers was completely engulfed by the blast and the other was thrown into the river below. As you can probably tell, he caught up with us later. I managed to convince him that further hostilities between us were pointless since his former employer was six feet underwater and his comrades were equally vanquished”
“Excellent use of reasoning to make an opponent lay down his arms. You’ll have to pay for that dynamite rod by the way” He directed to Daring, who grumbled before pulling out some bits and handing them to him; meanwhile mumbling something that sounded like ‘Cheap bastard’. It was enough to make me chortle in mirth before shutting up after a pointed look from Daring.
‘I’m starting to think Shining isn’t the only domesticated one here’ My snarky side pointed out.
‘Shut up brain. I’m still wild and free!’ I shot back to myself.
“There’s more to it than him simply laying down his arms unconditionally, I had also promised to speak on his behalf to you in order to possibly grant him some leniency”
“And what makes you think he is deserving of it?” Shining judiciously stated, his voice carrying a fair bit of requital to Jomar’s plight.
“For one, he wasn’t actually trying to kill us” I explained.
“I believe you said both he and the other who met his end at the bridge were both firing their crossbows at you?” He raised a cynical brow.
“He was… he was also purposely missing every shot. Furthermore, he himself told us that he was more of the mercenary group’s coordinator than one of their muscle heads. From what I saw of him, I’m inclined to believe that there is some truth behind his words. But ultimately it’s up to the Krystal Kingdom’s fair ruler to determine his fate” My vision was shifted to the Princess.
I put emphasize on the word fair so she’d feel guilty if she simply sentenced him to rot or be executed without giving him his due process… or what passes for it around here. I was starting to miss American civil rights already. From the looks of things, it certainly had the effect I intended.
“What would you have me do Zenith?” She pensively asked.
“That’s not for me to decide your highness” I responded with all due respect.
“Well I want to see how you’d prosecute him, he was still with the group that terrorized my kingdom’s populace and hijacked a multi thousand bit locomotive filled with precious cargo that you unintentionally proceeded to blow up”
‘Well when you put it that way’
“Honestly your Highness? I’d put him under house arrest and adjust him to the Honest and Just Arcanian way of life and perhaps make him a law abiding citizen if he so chooses”
She then began to briefly think it over before giving me her decision, “It’s a sound and evenhanded idea, one that I’m sure Auntie Celestia would approve of. Very well Zenith, uhm… pardon me but you didn’t mention his name”
“Its Jomar” I answered.
“Jomar? How exotic... very well then, Jomar shall be put under watch until it is determined that he comprehends and accommodates the Arcanian way of Harmony into his life”
“Thank you your highness, your wisdom in this matter precedes only your immeasurable beauty” That elicited a blush from her highness and an intense scowl from her husband, a scowl shared by Daring as well.
‘What? Am I not allowed to speak truth here without consequence?’
“You’re too kind Zenith, and because you have returned that which I asked for, you shall henceforth be a citizen of Arcania itself. I have no doubts that you will uphold everything that the way of Harmony stands for. And thus our business here is concluded; now Shiny and I will have to attend to the Kingdom’s most imminent affairs, which today would be personally evaluating the performance of the Krystal athletic team. It’s not easy being Royalty you know!” She giggled the last part as she and her husband exited the room hand in hand to personally appraise their Kingdom’s sport’s team. Leaving my companion and myself in relative silence.
“Ya know something? That went at lot better than I thought it would” I remarked at the ease at which the situation presented itself, and then I remembered that I hadn’t spoken with Crystal yet.
‘Crap!’
⁂
The guards then led us out of the Citadel, telling me to stop by the Office of Consular matters for my official documents now that I was a newly made Arcanian before attending to their other duties. Daring saw it as an excuse to celebrate our recent successes by drinking ourselves silly at the local tavern. I reminded her that I didn’t partake of any alcohol, but I’d be more than happy to finance her pursuit of getting smashed. Provided that I spoke with my caretaker first to let her know that I was alright.
“Aww…momma’s boy has to ask for permission to play?” Daring playfully teased as we walked down the crystalline avenues.
“She’s not my mom, though she excessively worries over me about as much” I clarified with a tired tone, having to explain to her a second time that I put myself in danger’s way was going to suck.
“I’ll have to catch you up later Dee, no offense or anything but it would be sort of awkward explaining what I did the last two days with you standing right there trying to look inconspicuous”
“Nah its cool, I have to square some things away on my end too. Meet up at the south fields in an hour?” She offered.
“Sounds good, I still have to buy you couple of drinks don’t I?” I cheekily replied.
“Pfft, more than just a couple” She retorted back to me as we parted ways.
I made my way back to Crystal’s home, passing by the friendly locals who seemed unperturbed from yesterday’s excitement; perhaps they hadn’t bore witness to it. Regardless, I was mulling over what I should say to Crystal that would excuse my absence. I had just about given up when an idea made its way to the forefront of my mind. I could just pin it on Royal business! It wasn’t a complete lie and it would allow the details of my previous caper to remain undisclosed. It was both devious and cunning; knowing the people’s reverence for their ruler’s modus operandi probably meant no further questions asked of me by Crystal once I told her.
I knocked on the door and waited patiently for a minute before the kindhearted woman opened it. Her eyes practically lit up once she saw me before briskly encompassing me in another bear hug. I was expecting exclamations of worry from her but she remained silent, perhaps she was just glad that I was safe. She ushered me inside without a word and poured both of ourselves a cup a tea that she was brewing in a kettle atop an iron stove. We sat down in her quaint living room to have what I’d hoped to be a simple and tension free conversation.
“I take it your meeting with the Princess went well?” She asked.
“Very… I apologize that I was away for so long. I was doing her majesty a favor you see”
“Yes, she informed me about it. Something about retrieving a stolen Chalice?” Her tone was difficult to decipher, a mix between frustration and begrudging acceptance.
‘Well, that plan just went out the window’ I sarcastically thought.
“Pretty much…and it mostly went off with a hitch”
“You put yourself in harm’s way again didn’t you” She sighed in discontent, it wasn’t even a question.
“Yeah… that’s been happening a lot lately hasn’t it?” I humorously observed, though Crystal didn’t share my mirth.
“I can’t quite condone that Cadence would just compel you into doing such a perilous thing, but it’s not my place to question her majesty’s ethical integrity” She finished somewhat bitterly, perhaps absolute reverence for Royalty only goes so far here.
“She’s been quite fair to me I assure you, even made me an Arcanian citizen via a Royal mandate in exchange for something she ‘misplaced’ in the hands of less than reputable people” I expounded upon.
“That’s wonderful! But what are you going to do with it?” She curiously inquired.
“In all honesty I’ve been wanting to travel around a bit. No offense or anything but a cloistered place like this can cause a guy like me to go stir crazy within a week” I drank the last of the invigorating tea, it was lemony with a hint of spice.
“So you’ll be leaving then…” She visibly sagged on the spot.
My turn to sigh in exasperation, “Yes Crystal that I am. But don’t think that I’ll be forgetting about you! I’ll be sure to stay in touch via correspondence, perhaps I’ll even tell you about how much the world has changed since this Kingdom has vanished”
She got up from her seat and embraced me once again, her tone sad but understanding, “I’ll do my best to write back. Do you think you might come back someday?” She asked hopefully as she drew back from the hug.
I looked her in the eyes, “You can count on it!” I grinned reassuringly, and I entirely meant what I said; I owed her as much. By the relieved look I received, I assumed that she was placated enough by my words. Unfortunately I had to break the mood with a last request.
“Say… you don’t mind if I use the shower one last time do you? One of the side effects of chasing after a stolen Chalice is that you tend to sully yourself in the process”
She laughed pleasantly before answering me, “Of course you can Zenith! I wouldn’t want you to face the world in such a maculate condition after all”
“Thanks Crystal, you’re the best” I honestly complimented.
I gave her my most sincere smile, which was only a slight curl of my lips since years of emotional stoicism have atrophied my ability to express myself facially. On the flipside, it makes what I do express all the more genuine. I politely excused myself to head upstairs to the room Crystal let me use to fetch some replacement clothes for the one’s I all but shredded on my last adventure.
An errant thought that crossed my mind made me pause and scan my surroundings; it looked like a generic room with no memorabilia or pictures of any kind. Come to think of it, the room was Spartan by all standards. I’ve spent enough time here to know that this was a two bedroom home, which meant that Crystal had put me up in what was probably her son’s old room. I smacked my face with my hand, how did I only notice this now!? She probably removed everything that was a painful reminder of her lost son, and here I’ve been treating it like it was a motel room! The bed was still unmade and I left some of the dresser drawers open in my haste since I was last here. I set about rectifying the mess before I felt bad for defiling one of the last remaining memories of a perished child. Afterwards, I hopped into the shower to wash off the dirt and gravel I’ve accumulated within the past couple days and to make use of the lavatory since my bladder felt like it was close to critical failure.
Once my business in the bathroom was concluded, I dressed myself in another pair of jeans and a collared polo shirt with black and red pattering; which is one of my favorite color combinations.
‘Unfortunate that it’s always associated with Gary Stu’s, I liked it before I found it was considered a marker for hated grandiosity’
I grabbed my stuff and debarked downstairs, I gave Crystal one last hug and told her that I’d do my best to stay safe regardless of whatever the universe decided to throw my way next. Her eyes were shimmery with tears that threatened to fall but she stayed strong; she told me that even though I’ve only been in her life for such a short time, she’d miss me greatly. I was touched that I’ve left a profound impression on her and made double certain to keep in touch. I departed for the Office of Consular matters to retrieve the documents for my newly acquired citizenship, they did make me do a tiny bit of paperwork; but it was just simply filling out some of the blanks for my new official identity. They seemed confounded by my listing of previous homestead as Southern California since they’ve never heard of such a place, even with their updated maps of the world. I gave them a cheeky grin and told them that they should try searching the nearest dimension; the looks they gave me were priceless. I was tempted to use my iPod’s camera app to capture the Kodak moment but decided against it for obvious reasons.
Once that was good and finished I made my way to the south fields to meet up with Daring since an hour had passed. I was certainly not expecting to find what I did but was pleasantly intrigued nonetheless.
A wooden ship that looked more like it belonged on the waters was just hovering a few meters of the grassy ground, there was no gasbag keeping it suspended above the land. It was simply floating on its own; my mind was doing backflips just trying to confirm that I wasn’t still hallucinating for the barbiturate dust. Four ducted fan blades jutted out from her lower hull on both sides. It wasn’t a terribly large vessel, maybe sixty or so feet in length overall. It carried an armament as well, four swivel mounted hand cannons fore and aft. A thick rope ladder hung from her starboard side over the wooden railing and snaked down to the ground. I probably spent two minutes examining the entire airboat with my eyes.
“Impressive isn’t she?” Came a familiar voice right next to me. I would have jumped out of my skin if I wasn’t so busy comprehending the impossibility staring me right in the face.
“H-how is that thing being kept aloft?” The disbelief very much evident in my voice.
“Some magical tree’s that only grow in certain areas of Arcania along with scant other countries are harvested for their special properties; its official name is Floatwood. It’s fairly durable and can suspend its own weight and then some, in large quantities some very impressive vessels can be crafted with it. Although, since it’s not exactly ubiquitous most sky ships are suspended via gas filled envelopes or ballonets” Daring lectured with an amused smirk.
My disbelief was replaced with childish joy, “That’s awesome! What’s the name of this fine looking ship?” I asked with a thumb pointed at it.
“I call her the Magnificent Maverick; she’s quick as a whip thanks to the four multi-rotational turbo props mounted on her lower sides and maneuverable for that same reason. That ship has carried me to the odds and ends of this Earth and out in one piece. She’s my pride and joy!” Daring proudly exclaimed, this vessel was clearly her baby and I could see why.
“That’s so cool” I gushed… I tend to geek out over things like this.
“Enough about my ship, you still need to buy me a few drinks. Come on! Every good adventure leads to a tavern at some point!” She grabbed me by the arm and led me to the nearest tavern.
“Can’t argue with that logic, let’s get going!” I enthusiastically agreed.
‘I’m probably going to watch you get drunk and make a complete ass of yourself, good thing I’m such a good designated drinking buddy’ I kept that thought to myself.
The name of the tavern was the Gemmed Tankard, it looked like your typical tavern, the wooden sign hanging over the door depicted a tilted draft beer studded with colorful gems, the windows had a stained glass mural style to them, and people who’ve had one too many stumbled outside sporadically. Inside was room enough for a good thirty people, strangely enough most of them were around my age group with a few older patrons sitting together at their respective tables and shooting the breeze with each other.
A three man band was providing ambiance with what looked like a guitar, a piano, and a drum set on a small stage. They looked incredibly bored with the venue and I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for them. Daring told me what to get while she saved us a spot and I shelled out some bits to the bartender, the alcohol was actually quite cheap too; only thirty bits for a seven strong row assortment of ales, ciders, and even hard liquors. I had him bring us the drinks on a large platter before taking off my pack and setting it next to my chair. I then spent the next few hours watching Daring pound them down whilst she regaled me of her previous exploits in wild and untamed lands. I had to hand it to her; Daring was only acting tipsy by her fourth drink. She kept trying to pressure me into having a swig or two but I politely declined, very thankful for my immunity to peer pressure.
Still… watching Daring having such a good time while I sat there doing just about nothing was starting to get to me. I thought back to the band that was only slightly more zombie-ish than I felt at the moment and thought about how to put some more life into their gig. That was when I was struck by the strangest urge to take the stage and join them. I got up from my seat and made my way to them in what felt like an automatic motion. I stopped just short of the stage and asked them if I could join them for a spell. The one on the Piano looked at me apathetically before replying in a droll tone.
“Sure, knock em’ dead”
I nodded and hopped up to the stage before asking the drummer to provide me a steady beat. By now a lot of people were staring at me and I felt a little bit self-conscious. What was I doing!? I’m not even a big fan of singing! But the strange sensation possessing me as the drummer laid down a steady string of drum taps encouraged me to continue with what I was doing.
“Ladies and Gentleman, I hope you don’t mind but I’m going to sing you a popular song from home that I think you just might like”
Most of them were drunk so they were all for the idea as evidenced by the cheers. Taking a deep breath, I began to sing. Daring face lit up with the third line and she had this sappy smile on the whole time. Even though we were short a few instruments and a synthesizer, the music was somehow provided for anyway. This served to confirm an earlier theory I had about the magic of music being present in this land. The song had a definite influence on the audience; they even provided the chorus exactly when it was called for. The intense vocal harmony even brought the older folks into the fold, happily singing away as they lifted and clanked their tankards together in drunken reverie. The formally bored musicians suddenly looked like they were having the time of their lives, happily plonking away at their instruments in perfect synchronization. I’m not usually one for singing, but if everyone gets so involved in the music like that then I might not mind taking the stage every once in a while.
⁂
Sadly, the good times came to an end and I had to carry Daring back to her precious ship since she was too inebriated to do so herself. It was nighttime by now and the Kingdom was absolutely beautiful, the Citadel was radiating a glow that almost made it look like it was emitting a force field. Entrancing as it was for me, I had to focus on making sure Daring made it back to her levitating abode that was moored to the southern fields. The Crystal lampposts highlighting the way were a very nice touch.
“Thash song wers cashy” She slurred as she stumbled alongside me, she would have probably face planted by now if I wasn’t there to support her weight the whole time.
“Given how well it the audience received it, I’d safely say they think the same” I agreed.
“How come.. *Hic* yuer shtill sober?” She asked between the most humorous hiccups.
“Probably because I abstained from guzzling the insane amount of intoxicants that you did” I responded with a chuckle.
“Oh yea.. yuer the wurst drinking buddy evar!” She exclaimed, though I could tell that she didn’t really mean it.
“That may be, but I’m the best designated ‘carry you back so you don’t end up looking like a fool’ pal ever” I boasted in response.
“I feel liek I ken take on anythen!” She proclaimed loud enough to attract the attention of several passerbys.
“Eeyup, you’re drunk” I observed, content with stating the obvious.
“And yuer shexy!” She declared before brazenly going in for a drunken kiss, since I wasn’t expecting it she somehow landed it spot on despite her intoxicated mindset. Several different flavors ranging from bitter to savory assaulted my taste buds as she pressed her lips against mine, her eyes closed and an expression of absolute felicity on her face. I must have had the deer caught in headlights look for the first few seconds but I didn’t pull away. When Daring broke the kiss, she acted like nothing had happened while continuing on with her drunken outbursts. I shook my head, speechless; this was turning out to be an interesting night indeed.
We came within sight range of the Magnificent Maverick soon enough. It must have had some kind of automatic lighting system because what looked like high intensity Gemstone lanterns lit up the top deck of the ship quite nicely. The rope ladder was still lazily hanging down its right side, but that would be inadequate since Daring was wholly buzzed at the moment. I huffed to myself for having to play the role of gentleman once more and swept Daring off her feet (Who let out the most endearing surprised squeak) before summoning my wings and using them to upsurge myself to the floor of the deck and deposit the inebriated woman back on her toes. The sudden change of motion had her wobbling a bit more than usual, but she reined in her balance with my timely assistance.
“Well Daring it’s been great, but I think it’s time we call it a night” I turned around to hop off the deck but a hand grabbing my arm stopped me, I turned to see Daring with a nervous expression on her face; like she had something to say but was afraid.
“Can’t you stay a little longer?” She asked, suddenly sounding more sober.
“Like… how long?” I dubiously inquired; I had a suspicion as to what she was really implying with her question.
“Until morning?” She gave me this small hopeful smile. I couldn’t say no to that face without feeling like a complete jackass, so I reluctantly gave my consent.
“Okay then, where will I sleep tonight?” She looked like she was about to say something but paused as if changing her mind.
“I have a few bunk compartments that you can use, it’s not the roomiest but it’s cozy. It’s below deck, I’ll just… head for my quarters” She looked a little less enthusiastic as she excused herself to the stern cabin. What did she really want to say? I put the thought aside and made my way below, a narrow corridor with doors on each side greeting me. I picked the closest one on my right and entered it; a tiny room about eight feet by six is what awaited me. A small bed barely large enough for me and a chest at the foot of the bed were all the furnishings available, along with a modest window port that didn’t offer much of a view since it was dark.
‘Daring wasn’t kidding when she said it wasn’t very roomy!’
I was too tired to really care though, so with a weary sigh I tossed my belongings (gently of course) into the chest before flopping onto the bunk for some well-deserved rest.
I woke the next morning feeling very refreshed and ready to explore everyplace I could possibly go. I rose from my indention in the bunk and made my way topside so I could stretch without fear of bumping into something. I wasn’t entirely certain of how long I slept, but since I had no pressing concerns I deduced that it was probably to within of few hours of noon. I found Daring standing on the forecastle of her marvelous vessel, when she heard my footsteps she turned around to flash me a winning smile.
“G’morning” I greeted.
“Sure is, great conditions for sailing too!” She remarked.
“Isn’t that just inside of the climate barrier?” I asked.
“Nah, I took the liberty of checking about thirty minutes ago” She explained with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“You sound pretty lively today, no hangovers at all?” I asked, quite confused at how spirited she was after how much alcohol she consumed the night before.
“I keep a few vials of rejuvenation to keep the hangovers at bay, or when I need a boost of energy” She demonstrated by pulling out a small glass ampul filled with a grassy green fluid and twirling it in her fingers.
“I see…So what’s next for you?” I inquired, letting curiosity get the better of me.
“I’m heading back to the Capital city to personally report my success to the institute regarding their assignment to retrieve the Crystal Chalice. How bout’ you?” She returned the question.
“I was thinking about traveling around a bit, getting the lay of the land you can say. Although I have wanted to visit Canter… err Concordia for a while now” I almost slipped, that would have been embarrassing!
“Well I could give you a lift there, it’s the least I can do” She modestly offered.
“You would? That’s great! The guys at Consular affairs office said the train system here would be down for a few days, but if I don’t have to wait for it to be restored to service then that’s just peaches. Thank You!” I happily exclaimed.
“Yeah…I’m a giver. Well since that’s agreed upon, let’s go!”
She made her way to the quarterdeck, where an honest to goodness ship’s wheel with wooden spokes patiently awaited me once I joined her. Since this ship didn’t have rudders of any kind, the wheel directed the four rotating propeller blades below. It wasn’t your typical helm setup either, since the ship could move in three dimensions instead of two; the wheel could be pulled back and forward to control its pitch in the air. There was a curious slot in the middle of the steering wheel that I was going to ask Daring about when she pulled a quatrefoil shaped piece of metal and inserted it into the wheel. All four fan blades below came to life with a mighty roar before Daring pulled the wheel back and the Magnificent Maverick shot into the sky like a coiled spring. We zoomed past the barrier and into the chilled morning sky above as we made a heading southbound toward the Arcanian Royal Capital City of Concordia.
‘Huh… so they do have ignition keys here’ Was all I could think of as my mind was overloaded with the tremendous amounts of awesomeness.
I stood facing the bow on top of the forecastle, drinking in the sights given to me and rendered in stunning clarity and definition with my Valkyrian eyes. The snowy landscape of the frozen north quite literally melting away into a vista consisting of grassy plains, scattered farmlands, lush mountains and clustered villages. Since this ship had its own propulsion system, there was no need for any masts or sails; which meant greater visibility all around the vessel. Bizarrely enough, there wasn’t an excess amount of wind sweeping over the deck; just what felt like a light breeze.
We we’re really hauling it too, a little over forty or so knots every hour. At this pace, we were bound to reach the Capital city within hours instead of the usual business day that it took via the train. The train couldn’t offer marvelous views like this either, all I was missing was a lawn chair and some snacks and the passing sights would have sufficed as an in-flight movie. As it was, I just leaned on the wooden banister of the railing lining the ship and popped in my ear buds before equipping my iPod and selecting a playlist of upbeat yet soothing sounds just perfect for this.
Forty five or so minutes in, I was shaken out of my trance like state by a hand grabbing me by the shoulder. I paused my IPod and turned around to address Daring… who was not at the wheel. I saw a questioning look in her eye but I cut it off with my inquiry first.
“Aren’t you supposed to piloting this thing?”
“Don’t sweat it; I have it set on the coordinates for Concordia” She replied with a dismissive tone.
“This ship has auto pilot? And here I thought I reached my quota of unexpected wonders for today” I dryly remarked.
“Then you’re in for a real treat once we reach the city, it never gets any less spectacular” She said with an amused smirk adorning her face.
“Doubt it can hold a candle to Coruscant” I muttered to myself, doubtful to the last part of that statement.
“What was that?” She asked, hearing me.
“Nothing, I’m just dubious about the hype surrounding this city. This supposed ‘Crown Jewel of Arcania’ has to be something special to deserve such a title”
“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. In the meantime though… can we talk?” She asked pensively.
“We’re talking right now” Was my snarky response.
“You know what I mean” She replied with a roll of her eyes.
I motioned to the portion of wooden railing next to me and she leaned against it much like I was. We stood together in silence before Daring began her colloquy.
“So being the relic hunter I am, naturally I’m a curious person. And it’s been eating at me to know just what you saw back in the Citadel depths. With the last door Ya’know?”
I was less bitter than the last time she asked me what I saw, but I wasn’t going to reveal it without a proper exchange first.
“Quid Pro Quo” I chirped, looking her dead in the eye.
“Huh?” She stared back in confusion.
“Old language saying that basically means ‘This for that’. You tell me what you saw going into Sombra’s trap doors since you haven’t been forthcoming yourself, and then I’ll tell you what my last experience with those thrice damned doors was”
She grumbled to herself for a moment before giving in.
“Fine… the first door led me into some kinda stony corridor that reminded me a lot of the multiple jungle temples I’ve explored. As you can expect, I inspected it for the usual sudden death inducing traps but I couldn’t find a blasted thing. The door out was on the other side of the corridor and felt like it was within jogging distance, only the problem was that it never got any closer no matter how far I ran. That was when I heard a loud rumble and a wall absolutely bristling with spikes started closing in on me a little too fast for comfort”
“So how’d you get out of that one?” I asked, drawn in by the scenario.
“By running like a spiked wall was chasing me” She laconically responded, “There was a freakin gap separating me from the door too, which was suddenly close enough to see the shine on the handle but not close enough to reach. I used my whip to wrap around a portion of stone wall jutting out and swung across the gap, I didn’t even bother opening the door normally; instead I barged right on through”
“What’d you see afterwards?” I inquired.
She gave a frustrated huff, “Don’t see how it’s fair that I tell you everything I saw and you only tell me one thing in return”
“I gave you the first two for free back on the stairway, this is perfectly fair” I retorted.
“Whatever… so the second door had me at this high society party function back in Concordia”
“What? That doesn’t sound bad at all” I ejected with some aporia.
She gave me this incredulous look, “Have you ever been to one of those things? Boring as all hell, countless snobs trying to suck up to even snobbier smucks, the Hors d'oeuvre are tiny and tasteless, the music is alright but a little too high strung for me. But that’s not what made it annoying, what made it annoying was that I was completely naked”
I had to stifle an amused snort with Herculean effort, one hundred percent sure that I’d be doing a spit take right now if I had been drinking. This should be interesting to hear about.
“Didn’t know it was one of those parties” I humorously said while looking away to keep Daring from seeing my amusedly contorted features. I got another slug in the shoulder anyway.
“Not like that you perve! My usual outfit and gear were gone! Instead I was dressed in one of those frilly fru fru dresses, I looked completely ridiculous!”
“You’re afraid of attending a high society party dressed like one of the snobs?” I raised a skeptical brow.
“Of course not! I’d just hate myself for it, damn shindig didn’t even have any alcohol to drown away the indignity with” She bitterly replied.
“Go on, surely that wasn’t last tribulation you endured”
“No it wasn’t, I almost ripped the door off of its hinges once I found it. It... led somewhere a little more terrifying” She hesitantly concluded.
“And where was that?” I asked as I shuffled myself on the banister.
“The bottom of the ocean, the dark depths below about to swallow me up like an insatiable void. I couldn’t breathe… I tried swimming to the surface but I couldn’t reach it in time. My vision started to darken, my body was beginning to lose sensation, and my lungs were about to give out. I felt like the hands of death were closing in on me; wouldn’t be the first time either, only it felt like this time my luck finally ran out” She morosely finished.
“That… must have been nerve wracking, but you escaped that one right?”
“No… I didn’t. When I came to, I was in this building filled with old people too senile to remember the last five minutes of their life let alone all of it. But they were surrounded by family, and even though they weren’t that far from passing on; they looked happy. Like they lived a truly fulfilling life and were leaving behind something special behind to mark their passing. A legacy, not recognized merely from achievements but people they shared an intimate connection to and whose lives they touched”
“So what else happened? That can’t be everything” I doubtfully stated.
“It wasn’t. At first I just ignored everyone, knowing that they were just illusions from the trapdoor’s insidious magic. But try as I might, I couldn’t find the door out anywhere. And that’s when I found her…” She had a haunted look in her eyes as she spoke.
“Found who?” I asked, curious at this new development.
“Myself… or at least a much older version of myself. She was wrinkled, had those ugly looking reading glasses on, wore a black peignoir, and was turned away from me on her rocking chair. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the shade of her hair… still those solid stripes of gray” She gave a mirthless chuckle before continuing.
“She was alone… her only company were countless awards and recognition plaques and trophies that only served to gather rust and dust. Despite all of her fame and recognition, she was desolate and forlorn…. empty. Then she turned to face me… staring through me with those accusing eyes ‘Why?’ She said, ‘Why did you let this happen to me? Countless times we had the chance to share ourselves with someone else but you let our ambition get in the way. Any people we could call friend absolutely alienated by our indifference. Well this is where it gets you kiddo. Sitting by yourself idly wasting away while yearning for the old days and remembering old regrets of our life. So tell me… do you still think that it’s worth it?”
“That’s heavy” Was all I could manage, what else could I say to that?
She continued as though she hadn’t heard me, “I couldn’t answer her, but somewhere deep down I knew she had a point. I have some pretty big goals for myself… but what’s the point if it’s only going to be by myself? I turned and ran faster than I ever had, dead set on finding the door out that place. The overwhelming realization that I would end up like that was bearing down on me with a greater intensity than any deathtrap”
At that point I had heard enough, I swept her up in a fierce hug (Not usually my style, but she needed one) before granting her some reassurance.
“You will NOT end up alone Daring, and I promise that as your friend” ‘Still too used to calling them mutual acquaintances’ “That as long as I have anything to say about it, I will always be there for you through thick and thin… and to carry you home when you’ve had too much to drink” That last bit gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘Consoling mission a success!’
“You really mean that?” Her emotional disposition would be made or broken depending on my response.
“Word for word” I truthfully replied.
“Thank you… that means so much to me” She leaned into the hug, pulling herself back from the brink of despair.
“Just call on me when you need someone to share your burden with, I make a great pack mule remember?” I humorously poked, eliciting a soft chuckle from previously distraught woman.
“Lousy ride though” She grinningly riposted, sneaking in some subtle innuendo as well.
“Ha! You never complained” I volleyed back.
“Yeah yeah…so I’ve told you everything I saw, now it’s time for you to cough up the truth” She switched gears back to the topic at hand.
‘Darn, I was hoping that she’d forget’ I groused disappointedly.
I let out a short sigh, mentally preparing myself to disclose just what I experienced with the third doorway.
“A deal’s a deal, lemme just find the words to describe what I saw and how it made me feel about all of this” I waved around a finger in emphasis.
“So I was in relatively high spirits after the second, I managed to subvert an insulting perversion of a favored childhood pastime of mine using simple video game logic. However, the next door certainly didn’t pull any punches”
“What did it show you?” Daring inquired of me, ignoring the strange ‘video game’ words.
I stared at her with a neutral expression, “My life… or at least my life the way it was before I wound up here”
“And how exactly does that equate to your worst fear?” It was apparently Daring’s turn to be skeptical.
“It's not so much a fear as it is something that I despise with every fiber of my being, just living a tedious, boring, needlessly convoluted, and most importantly unfulfilling life. But that’s not really the part that got to me…what got to me was the fact that everything that I was experiencing thus far could just be an illusion. And for all I knew, I could be comatose and dreaming this entire thing up. The door must have somehow sensed my insecurities because the flow of images only got worse, from my parents grieving over me by a hospital bedside to all the people who would still miss me even though I was never a terribly outgoing person”
“You thought that everything you went through- that WE went through, was only an illusion?” Daring asked before making me look into her ruby red eyes, “That I was just a figment of your imagination?” She actually sounded hurt.
I scoffed at the ludicrous notion, “I never said I gave in to my fears. That vile dark magic was prying at my mental defenses just looking for a weak spot… it could never find any though”
“Yeah? And why was that oh impervious one?” She wisecracked to me.
“Because I have a remarkable ability to rationalize away all my fears and doubts. For instance even IF this was all a hallucination, then there’s no point fretting over it. It’s obviously not something I can change on my own power so I might as well enjoy it while the going’s good. They say that if you’re in crazy town, then you might as well have a good time. But if it makes you feel a little less insulted at having your very existence questioned, I don’t believe for a single moment that this is just illusory” I confidently explained.
“What makes you so sure of it?”
“Because you’re too incredible to simply be an echo of my mind. Besides... look at all of this!” I gestured to the picturesque passing landscapes below, “I’m not that imaginative” I grinned cheekily at the slight blush on her face from my first sentence.
“It didn’t stop the door from throwing some salt in the wound though” I continued, “The doorway out eventually revealed itself. But before I could turn the knob and escape that dreadful place, a voice that I felt instead of heard told me that I would never see my home or my loved ones again. If I wasn’t an expert at keeping my emotions in check, that would have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. Nothing and nobody rubs that detestable truth in my face” I bitterly concluded, wishing I could go back and dismantle those bloody doors myself.
Daring looked sympathetic but couldn’t seem to find the right words to say. I could understand entirely, she already lost her family long ago so she had already made peace with it.
“Bah! Enough with this empathetically charged subject, how much longer before we reach Concordia?” I impatiently asked, tapping my foot against the wooden planking of the deck.
“At this speed and with a good tailwind? A good three hours or so” She answered.
Doing some quick mental calculations with what I knew, I came to the conclusion that the Krystal Kingdom was a little over two hundred and fifty kilometers from the Arcanian capital. I would have made an exasperated groaning noise at the excessive amount of time it would still take to reach our destination, but I had my ultimate time traveling material on hand. Music!
“Yo Daring, wanna know how I pass the time during long delays?” I grinned at her.
“Uhm… sure! This ship can practically run itself so I got plenty of time”
I whipped out my handy dandy IPod from my jean pockets and showed it to Daring, who stared at its glossy surface in a mix of confusion and wonderment.
“What is that thing? A vanity mirror?” She humorously asked.
“What? No! This is my IPod and it has a great multitude of uses, but for now it shall act as our music player” I explained with some mounting frustration at the vanity jab.
“That tiny little thing? But how? The only music players I know of are those clunky looking phonographs and music boxes”
“An IPod is like the GREAT great grandchild of those devices. (Putting it mildly to say the least) It has speakers of its own built in, but the best sound quality is with these” I pulled them out from underneath my polo shirt’s collar, “These are in-ear headphones, they let me listen to my music in private. On top of it, they’re noise isolating so I don’t have to worry about outside interference interrupting my listening sessions”
“And what kind of magic allows for such things?” She dubiously asked.
“Only the magic of technology my dear uninformed companion” I sniffed at the ridiculous notion of magical headphones, “Electronic signals travel from my IPod along the wires leading to the ear buds, inside each ear bud is a coil that becomes an electromagnet via input from the electrical signals. Those signals cause the coil to vibrate back and forth which in turn cause a diaphragm to expand and contract, this leads to the compressions and rarefactions that correlate to the sounds we hear. The IPod sends the right patterns of signals to produce the correct sounds requested” I took in a deep breath after I finished my mouthful of a laymen’s lecture on the inner workers of practically every modern speaker system.
Daring just stared at me like I was one of those little green men from a fifties B-horror film, although instead of fear it was just stupefaction.
“Are you sure you’re not talking about magic? Because you lost me after the first few sentences the same way somebody explaining the innermost workings of magic to me does”
“Disregard the technobabble then” I said with a wave of my hand, “And permit me to take you on a journey… starting with Journey” I motioned with my left ear bud to her, which she took with plenty of curiosity and slight hesitation.
“Don’t worry, it’s not like it’ll bite you or something” I said in my best reassuring yet snarky voice.
“I know that!” She indignantly replied, “It’s just that I don’t know what to do with it”
“Here” I scooted closer and took it from her hand, the brush of skin contact causing her face to heat up. I would have made a snippy comment about it but it made my heart rate rise too, much to my consternation. I parted her silky, lustrous, greyscale hair and inserted the headphone into her left ear. I selected the song on my IPod and pressed play, within seconds the woman’s face lit up with excitement and marvelment as the smooth tunes flooded her brain with the sensation of harmonious yet upbeat sound. (I tend to exalt legendary bands like Journey in case you haven’t noticed)
“This is incredible! It’s almost like having your own private concert playing in your head!” She gushed.
“And that’s only half of the full experience” I grinningly mentioned while tapping my right ear bud for emphasis.
And so three and a quarter hours passed by in what felt like one. Daring becoming even more drawn in as we cycled through a vast array of artists and genres. She had a liking for fast pace rock and electronic tracks, anything that possessed a good beat had her completely hooked. I found her fixation on Daft Punk’s latest album to be particularly endearing, seeing her bob back and forth to the straight funk of ‘Get Lucky’ was weapon’s grade adorable. I withheld showing her some of my favorite band’s music for fear of overwhelming her with the sheer amount of Epic that is Muse.
Strangely enough, once I hit the shuffle function I began to hear music outside of my right ear bud being piped in. I glanced down at the screen to see a rather famous duet song displayed, which was oddly fitting given the situation we both found ourselves currently in. Shrugging to myself at yet another of this world’s mysteries, I extracted the headphones from both myself and Daring before standing up and offering her a hand that she graciously accepted. I led her to the main deck where we had the most space for this outlandish phenomenon.
‘This world wants a cheesy duet? Then we’ll give it a helluva duet’
Knowing that musical magic was at play here, I didn’t have to second guess the fact that Daring knew the lyrics beforehand without ever having heard the song in her life. I let the jazzy and classy groove of the introduction resonate throughout my body before beginning the vocals. I didn’t even raise a brow at how my voice took on an even sexier pitch of baritone. Or how Daring’s voice emulated Gwyneth Paltrow’s while stile keeping her own unique flair as we swayed side to side on the deck.
Me: Baby lets cruise, D: away from here Me: Don't be confused, D: the way is clear Me and D: And if you want it, you got it forever Me and D: This is not a one night stand D: baby, yeah
Me and D: So, let the music take your mind Just release and you will find
Me and D: You're gonna fly away, glad you're goin' my way I love it when we're cruisin' together Music is played for love, cruisin' is made for love I love it when we're cruisin' together
Me: Baby tonight, D: belongs to us Me: Everything right, D: do what you must Me and D: And inch by inch we get closer and closer To every lil' part of each other, D: ooh baby yeah
Me: So, Me and D: let the music take your mind Just release and you will find
Me and D: You're gonna fly away, glad you're goin' my way I love it when we're cruisin' together Music is played for love, cruisin' is made for love I love it when we're cruisin' together
Me and D: Cruise with me baby, ooh yeah ooh Ooh baby, let's cruise, D: let's float, let's glide Ooh, let's open up, D: and go inside
Me and D: And if you want it, you got it forever I could just stay here beside you and love you baby Let the music take your mind Just release and… Me: you will find!
Me and D: You're gonna fly away, glad you're goin' my way I love it when we're cruisin' together Music is played for love, cruisin' is made for love I love it when we're cruisin' together
Me and D: You're gonna fly away, glad you're goin' my way I love it when we're cruisin' together Music is played for love, cruisin' is made for love I love it when, I love it, I love it, I love it, ooh Me: Cruise with me baby, D: I love it when we're cruisin together
We finally came into view of the mountain that housed the capital city of the entire Arcanian nation just as the final notes of the duet played their last tune. Concordia wasn’t quite what I was expecting; it looked much more futuristic and even utopian in its architecture than I initially anticipated. Nestled firmly in the bosom of the mountain and standing tall over the surrounding landscape, the majestic city gleamed proudly in the light of the midday sun. Glistening minaret like ivory spires with flower bulb shaped domes dotted the skyline of the upper city; most were flying colors of some sort that billowed in the winds. Waterfalls cascaded down multiple channels running earthward via reservoirs in the mountain peak and through much of the city, which only served to add to the visual grandeur that was the Capital of Arcania.
There was more to the city than just the palatial district extending out against the mountain, an entire valley plateau carved into the mountain allowed for a large residential district filled with shops and homes to exist alongside the much grander structures next door. Even from this distance I could see the countless dots of people scurrying up and down the streets like so many busy bees.
Concordia wasn’t the only city in vantage point; just on the horizon was a massive grouping of clouds that were shaped conspicuously like an airborne megalopolis, I made it a secondary priority to find out if it went by the name of Cloudsdale as well. The surrounding airspace was also speckled with the occasional airship either heading toward the city’s many docking ports or departing from it. Based on our present course, we were heading for one of these docks ourselves. Daring left me to gaze in amazement at the wondrous city and sauntered over to the wheel to guide the ship in herself.
But not before getting a word in edgewise.
“So what’ya think? Does Concordia not hold a candle to that Coro-scant?” She smugly inquired, wholly slaughtering the pronunciation of the ecumenopolis.
“It’s Coruscant” I properly enunciated for her, “…and while I admit that the city is indeed impressive, it pales in comparison to a city that encompasses an entire planet”
I gave an amused snort. While this city had its own quaint charm, I never compare oranges to apples; especially when it’s an entire orchard of perfect apples in question.
“Is that where you come from?” Daring slowly asked, flabbergasted at the idea of a planet wide city.
“Uhm no… it’s just a place I’ve seen” I half truthed.
“You continue to mystify me Zenith” She said with a vexed shake of her head.
‘You and Crystal both, I gotta remember to write a letter to her sometime so I don’t forget’ I added that to my mental checklist.
We decreased altitude to become level with one of the mid-city docking harbors. A large rectangular box at the head of each port entrance glowed with one of two lights. For what I could deduce, they were red if the dock was closed off or already occupied by a vessel and green when it was open for docking.
‘Just like a stop and go light from back home’ I observed, once again befuddled by the similarities shared between the two worlds.
Thanks to the four very powerful and mobile fan blades propelling us, as well as Daring’s skill at the helm. We parked the Magnificent Maverick in half the time and twice the professionalism. The engines powering down as the sharp chopping noise of the fan blades was gradually reduced to a soft ‘shooping’ that signaled our arrival. A couple of dock workers scurried forward to catch the mooring lines that Daring casually tossed overboard before extending a ramp over to us. My companion then swung open a gate built into the railing of her ship and directed the dock workers to place the runged slab of wood at the foothold. I briskly retreated back to my bunk to retrieve my things before rejoining my friend on the deck. We proceeded to disembark and I took my first steps into the Capital City of Concordia.
‘I thought this would feel more memorable…bah, I’m just being jaded’ I had to stop to avoid bumping into a rotated Daring, who promptly gave me quick instructions.
“Wait here for me okay? I have to register the mighty mav’ with this level’s harbor master, mister gangplank” Daring explained with a hint of pride for her ship.
I nodded in understanding as she walked into an official looking building to square that away. I took that time to ponder my next course of action.
‘So here I am in the grand city of Concordia, I’ve got a little over three hundred bits on my person and although I’m not exactly loaded it should be enough to cover most of my expenses in this city. What’s next though? I can’t really explore the rest of Arcania without securing some additional income first, and I doubt that this city has many renegade dragon bounties to pursue’ I had to cut my musings short once more as Daring had apparently finished her business in the harbor office.
“That was awfully quick! Are the bureaucratic systems here more efficient than I originally guessed or are you just an express customer?” I quipped.
“The latter, Gangplank took one look at me and added the Mav’ to the registry with no additional paperwork necessary, since it’s already associated with the institute which is itself sponsored by the Concordia local government” She explained, which only piqued my curiosity.
“How does local government work around here? I doubt the Princesses make all of the decisions around here”
“Of course they don’t! However they do have the final say on all measures that involve the benefit of the whole nation or dealings with the neighboring countries. All other mundane tasks are for the municipal governments to handle”
“So it’s like a bureaucratic oligarchy?” I guessed.
“Something like that, I don’t know all the details since I rarely stay in country longer than a couple weeks anyway. Besides… I hate politics” She finished with a chuckle as we made our way to a street filled with pedestrians… and equestrians evidently (Not that kind!). Men on horseback trotted up and down the stony marble avenues alongside honest to goodness horse drawn trolleys that ferried their passengers to their destinations.
We lined up at one of the ‘bus stops’ along with other well-dressed bystanders for one of these antique rides. I honestly felt very much out of place, it was like being placed in Victorian era London for me. The city had a very quaint allure to it, but not really something that I’d put myself through without mentally preparing myself in advance. I was thankful that people here had the presence of mind to ignore the fact that my partner and I stood out from the crowd like two flamboyant flamingos amongst elegant swans. Even more so since we didn’t have those bindi jewels that 85% of the local population was sporting on their foreheads; marking this city as having a stellar mage population majority. It was interesting to note that most of the forehead jewels I saw correlated with a person’s iris color, though not always.
We paid the inexpensive toll and sat on the wooden benches of the trolley, my backpack situated firmly on my lap. The driver gave a light crack of his riding whip and the two draft horses resumed towing the long carriage down the city’s many winding streets.
“So what’s our first order of business?” I asked of the woman sitting next to me.
“Well I don’t know about you, but I’ve gotta report my success and additional findings to the institute” She gave a long and tired sigh; I guess she didn’t care for the more tedious parts of her job.
“I could accompany you so that you don’t get too bored” I graciously offered.
“I appreciate the thought, but I have to do this myself. Why don’t you go and explore the city for a bit? There’s plenty to see and do here in the capital” She said with a hint of yearning, most likely wanting to tag along herself.
“And risk coming off to the locals as a clueless tourist? I think I’ll take a rain check on that” I said with a roll of my eyes, “Perhaps you can show me yourself around once you finish up with your business here?” I hopefully inquired.
“Of course I will! But unless you want to spend the next half day skulking around aimlessly, I suggest you find something to do in the meantime”
“How will we meet up again? I might stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd but this city isn’t exactly small” I reasonably asked.
“I have my methods for keeping track of people and the places they’re located” She replied with an enigmatic grin, “Speaking of which, this is where I get off!” She pulled on a string above us that rang a bell, signaling the driver to stop.
‘Wait… what?’ I made a mental note to check myself for a tracking beacon later.
The trolley came to a slow standstill and the adventuress hopped off the transport and headed straight for a rather unassuming row of buildings before I could manage another word. They were distinct only by the fact that they were sealed off from the rest of the surrounding city by a perimeter of wrought iron fencing, which culminated into a metal gate with a fancy ovular emblem that Daring passed through once she waved that medallion of hers to the gatekeepers standing vigilantly by the entrance.
Feeling a little irked at being so unceremoniously abandoned to my own devices in the city, I sagged in my seat; feeling content to stay idle until I found a destination that grabbed my attention. What more could I do? I was lost amongst the urban sprawl of an alien city without a map, and I highly doubted that my good sense of direction would point me anywhere without a magnetizing prompt. And so a good few hours melted away as I surveyed multiple locales that the native population visited frequently; busy markets, carefree coffee shops, jam-packed pubs, fancy looking restaurants, places of business… and the occasional burlesque theatre or two.
‘Ah… the joys of public transit’ I sarcastically quipped in my intense mental boredom; if something didn’t catch my eye soon I’d probably fall asleep right there. I was close to giving up on finding anything to occupy myself with when I heard the muffled sounds of music coming from what looked like some kind of snazzy jazz club. Deciding that I had nothing better to do, I rung the bell and stepped off of the trolley with my pack before making my way towards said club. I decided to ignore the murmured “Took him long enough…” comment from the trolley man.
Day began to transition into the early stages of dusk as the Sun sank into the horizon, no doubt being moved by the Celestial Princess herself. Contrary to some of my preconceived ideas, she did not lower the stellar body in a manner befitting a clock with ‘ticking’ motions. Rather, it gradually submerged below the horizon just like it normally would back home; which of course gave my distrustful proclivities reason to doubt Celestia’s claim to rule. I quickly disparaged that line of thought; I wasn’t here to incite any kind of fiery revolution after all.
It really was shaping up to be a beautiful night though, being this high up meant that the evening air had a pleasant crisp chill to it. One by one the Stars began to reveal themselves and twinkle in the night sky. Those tiny sparkling dots up there were something I’ve always found captivating; and despite how well lit the city was, there wasn’t any ‘light pollution’ to drown out all but the brightest Stars. The open aired and rotund platform section of the city I was currently in offered absolutely breathtaking views into space; I could see nebulae, short lived meteors, and even the cosmic vapors composing whatever galaxy that this planet inhabited. I took in a deep breath as I Stargazed, it was…
“Glorious” I exhaled in satisfaction.
Believing that I had delayed long enough, I resumed my heading towards the melody exuding building. The gilded brass letters adorning the doors read ‘The Lofty Lounge’ and given that it overlooked half of the now shadow veiled verdant valley below; I supposed that it was an apt name. I passed through the doors and was instantly met with a dimly lit and tranquilizing atmosphere. Debonair looking patrons wined and dined in relative silence while listening to the quartet of musicians onstage. It was a setup not unlike the Gemmed Tankard from last night; with a pianist, drummer, a bass guitarist with a saxophone on a stand next to himself, and what looked like a cellist (Although they were shrouded by darkness so I couldn’t see them clearly). Although I highly doubted that the customers would prove as carousal or raucous as those back in the Krystal Kingdom, they did seem to be the more refined type after all.
Grateful that this wasn’t one of those places that required a reservation to attend, I grabbed an unoccupied corner booth table with cushioned seats near the entry and set my stuff down before perusing the menu selections. As to be expected of such places, most dishes were exorbitantly priced in the forty bit range; even more if you tacked on some liquid courage. A waiter dressed in one of those stereotypical albeit dapper looking black and white suits made his way over to my table posthaste.
“Good evening sir and welcome to the Lofty Lounge, how can I serve you this lovely night?” He put on a businesslike but sincere enough smile.
“I’ve yet to decide on an entrée, however the mint raspberry lemonade sounds like a good starter” ‘It better be for ten bits!’
“Very well sir, I’ll retrieve your drink and give you some time to decide what your main course will be” He gave a quick bow before scurrying off to the kitchen to do so. Since he didn’t comment on my choice of casual attire, I deduced that they also didn’t have a strict dress code that I had to adhere to. Still...compared to some of these people I may as well have been wearing sackcloth for all my sense of vogue. Not that I really cared but the point still stands.
‘I must commend the serving staff for their good sense of providing excellent service though, probably with a nice tip. Ten percent is pretty generous right?’
After an intense mental debate between getting the steak with lobster mashed potatoes and the venison piccata with linguine, the red blooded American in me determined that good ol’ fashioned meat and potatoes won out over pasta any day of the week. I made sure to inform the waiter of my choice after he delivered the somewhat costly drink to my table. I sipped at it in silence as I let the ongoing music sooth and stimulate me, the tune sounding suspiciously similar to ‘Smooth Operator’ except without Sade’s voice. But I paid it no mind, content as I was to relax and enjoy the revitalizing taste of my minty fruit drink.
Another hour passed as I feasted on my three course meal as soon as it arrived, I was practically rejoicing that the portions there weren’t pathetically miniscule like so many other expensive restaurants that I’ve eaten at. There was a lull in the entertainment as one of the members; the cellist apparently, decided to take a respite from performing while the other three re-tuned their instruments or got a drink at the bar. I figured that was about it for the night as I had finished my meal and the music that drew me in was no longer saturating the air with its pleasantness.
That was until a rather debonair looking fellow with an awesome handlebar mustache took the stage and clinked on a wine glass he was holding with what looked like a fondue spoon. The natural acoustics of the lounge allowed for his voice to carry. He spoke in gravelly baritone voice that rivaled Louis Armstrong’s yet had a somewhat ostentatious and clipped accent; it was a very odd combination to be sure.
“Good evening everyone and thank you for your attention. As most of you know I am Smooth Jazz, the owner and proprietor of this fine establishment. As most of my regulars are also aware of, every Friday we select one random member from the audience to participate in their own cabaret! Just a minor idea I came up with to liven up the mood and provide a bit of a breakaway from these stuffy old tossers!” He jokingly indicated with a flick of his thumb towards the three musicians who were fiddling with their instruments or guzzling down their alcohol.
“We love you too Jazz!” One them responded in good humor.
“Now remember, even if the light does fall on you, that doesn’t mean that you are obligated to come up here where we will all most likely be watching your every move and silently judging you” He jocosely admitted with a wry smile, eliciting a string of chuckles from the audience.
“Spotlight please!” He commanded with a raised index finger. A light worker on an indoor balcony switched on a limelight and began to scour the various patrons in search of a sucker (in my opinion) to either provide entertainment or be silently ridiculed by their peers. The light worker even had some fun with the crowd by pretending to focus the light on one person until they started getting anxious before swiftly moving on to the next and final victim. Unfortunately, that victim happened to be me. Seeing as I was all by my lonesome in the corner, they must have seen me as easy prey for their sick entertainment.
‘Okay maybe I’m being a little dramatic’
Betraying nothing of my displeasure at being singled out, I quietly sighed and stood up from my seat to make my way toward the modestly sized curtained stage where the lounge owner stood, the stage light (and the stares of every person in the lounge) never leaving me once. Once I was finally standing close to him he offered his hand which I slowly took before giving it a firm shake.
“No need to look so dismayed lad! Just for finding the courage to come up here, all your expenses tonight will be exempted! So what’s your name my good man?”
“That’s very beneficent of you, and call me Zenith” I replied, my munny bag would retain most of its circumference tonight at least.
“I do pride myself on being renowned for magnanimous courtesy. So Zenith! How shall you enthrall the good people who currently compose my clientele?” He asked me as he twisted at his waxed mustache.
“If they wouldn’t mind a little more music, then I intend to sing for them” Seeing as no one was tossing any tomatoes yet (If this world was that cliché) I assumed that they didn’t mind.
‘Besides, I’ve been dying to see just how flexible this ambient music magic is’
“That sounds splendid! Would music happen to be a special talent of yours?” He inquired, since Mana Marks for guys aren’t as readily visible as they are for the girls.
“Not exactly, but I do have a penchant for it. Bear with me though, it won’t be anything jazzy”
“That’s quite alright laddie! It’s your stage for tonight, feel free to delight us as you see fit!” And with that, he exited stage left to his own private booth.
I stared at the three musicians who remained offstage at the bar. Did they expect me to do this by myself?
“Assist you how? We don’t know what you’re going to sing” One of them questioningly piped up.
“It’ll come to you, trust me” I replied with a knowing smirk. Begrudgingly, they quickly downed their drinks before manning their instruments on the stage.
Spotting an acoustic guitar on a stand next to a wooden stool, I strolled on over to pick it up and sit down. It wasn’t the body shape I was used to (a dreadnought versus my cut away grand auditorium) but I figured it didn’t really matter since it was only three chords I would be strumming anyway. I removed the guitar pick from a custom sleeve in the headstock and examined it.
‘Agate guitar picks? Classy AND functional… nice’
I gave the guitar an experimental strum, the twang of the six strings resonated in standard tuning and in a rich tonal quality that my regular plastic tortex guitar picks just couldn’t afford me. The coffered ceilings and wainscoted wall panels of the miniature auditorium resulted in even the soft sound of the strumming carrying throughout the whole lounge. I nodded my head in bemused satisfaction at the excellent room acoustics.
I glanced back at the other musicians to see if they were ready; a curt nod from all three of them assured me that they were. Without further delay I began to serenade the audience with one of my favorite songs.
Looking for something I've never seen, Alone and I'm in between The place that I'm from and The place that I'm in, A city I never been I found a friend or should I say a foe, Said there's a few things you should know We don't want you to see, We come and we go Here today, gone tomorrow
As I figured, my fellow musicians instantly got with the program and provided the appropriate instrumentation; once more I marveled at the gaps that magic could simply fill in.
Were only taking turns, Holding this world It's how it's always been, When you're older, you will understand
Many of the lyrics of this piece were oddly fitting my mood as of late, and as such I sang with the raw emotion befitting such a powerful song. All eyes were on me as I continued to strum and fill the air with the profound lyrics that Isaac Slade wrote when composing this song.
If I say who I know it just goes to show, You need me less than I need you But take it from me we don't give sympathy, You can trust me trust nobody But I said you and me we don't have honesty, The things we don't want to speak I'll try to get out but I never will, This traffic is perfectly still
My compatriot accompanists were truly drawn into the song, providing the chorus with their eyes closed in thoughtful introspection. The sheer synchrony of our voices was almost haunting in a way. To me this song has always been about feeling alone even when surrounded by people, but to also make the most of the time we’ve been given in this life.
We’re only taking turns, (taking turns) Holding this world It’s how it’s always been, (always been) When you’re older you will understand!
The sudden crescendo had all but completely floored the audience as the song suddenly ramped up in both tempo and intensity. I could tell by the shocked looked on their faces that they were not expecting it; I grinned to myself, neither did I my first time hearing this enchanting song.
And then again maybe you don't! And then again maybe you won't! (We’re only taking turns!) Were only taking turns, Holding this world It's how it's always been, When you're older, you will understand
When you're older you might understand, When you're older you might understand
As the final drum taps heralded the end of the song, I exhaled a breath that I didn’t even know I was holding in. The arrant cathartic release that the song demanded of me was a tad exhausting on my mental faculties. Still… it felt damn good to let it all out. I was arisen from my self-reflection by the slow sound of intermittent claps that gradually escalated into a standing ovation from the entire crowd. Smooth Jazz enthusiastically made his way to my side amid the applause, grasping my hand and shaking it fervently.
“Good show lad! Good show! That was positively magnificent! I’ve never heard anything like it!” He beamed at me.
“I presume everyone here is sufficiently pleased?” I rhetorically asked, seeing as they were still ecstatically cheering.
“I dare say they are dear boy! If I had a performance like that hosted every night, my lounge would be the toast of the town! You wouldn’t happen to be employable would you?” He hopefully asked of me.
“I’m afraid this will be a one-time gig. But if I ever find myself here again, I’ll be sure to pay this place another visit” Was my tactful excuse. ‘I’ve lingered here a bit too long anyhow’
His smile never faltered, “That’s quite alright lad, I find that the best acts occur in their own time” He finally let go of my hand and I excused myself back to my table.
‘Jolly fellow ain’t he?’ I thought to myself as I ducked past tables and the scrutinizing stares of their various well-dressed occupants. My normally acute hearing; which itself was even further enhanced by my Valkyrian senses, picked up on the cacophony of hushed comments coming from the clustered congregation.
“…Unlike anything I ever heard…”
“…His attire is rather simple…”
“…Such talent for a non-magi…” ‘Gee…supremist much?’
“…a handsome looking gentleman isn’t he?”
That last one almost made me stumble, barely three and a half minutes of singing and already they were appraising me for my looks. I shook my head in disbelief; I still had half a drink left at my table that I intended to finish before leaving and the cracks from the peanut gallery wouldn’t lessen my resolve.
I downed the last of my drink in one mighty swig and fished out a ten bit piece from my munny pouch. I waved down my waiter from earlier and gave it to him, he seemed surprised at what he saw as a very ample tip but I assured him that he earned it. He bowed appreciatively before resuming his attendance of the other tables. I was occupying myself with rifling through my belongings again in search of a contrivance to keep me busy for the rest of the night when the sound of someone approaching and stopping just shy of my table addressed my ears.
“Would you mind terribly if I joined you for a spell?” The refined but euphonious sounding voice of a woman requested of me.
‘Strange choice of words but whatever’
“Feel at ease” I automatically responded with a flick of my free hand, engaged as I was to sifting through my possessions. The sound of the booth cushions opposite of me compressing informed that she did just that. I could have sworn I saw a faint glow coming from one of the zipper compartments of my backpack. However, not wanting to come off as rude by ignoring her, I temporarily ceased my rummaging and gave her my full attention. It’s a good thing I did; else I would have risked marginalizing a fairly important person.
In retrospect, I should have had a stronger suspicion as to who the mystery cellist was. But I wasn’t exactly expecting her to moonlight at a jazz lounge that I happened to have picked, let alone have caught enough of her attention to warrant this colloquy. Though I suppose an artist has to find ways to earn their bread and butter somehow, and I doubt there’s a grand symphony hosted in this city 24/7.
I stared…a minor expression of astonishment on my face. Quietly coughing to myself to recover, I refaced my table guest with my usual passive countenance.
‘Uh...quick! Compliment her to break the ice!’
“You’ll have to forgive my slight faux pas; I was simply…caught off guard by your prodigious beauty”
Her cheeks briefly lit up before she regained her composure, “Well, you certainly are the charmer aren’t you?”
“So how can I be of assistance miss…?” I purposely trailed off as I extended an open hand towards her.
“Octavia” She shook my hand amicably, “Octavia Philharmonica”
“Ah... I thought you looked familiar” I inwardly chuckled, how could I not recognize her? The purple treble clef Mana Marks on her hands and the classy bowtie are a dead giveaway.
“Yes, I have performed with the Royal Concordian Orchestra on occasion. Perhaps you recognize me from one of their concerts?” She looked appreciative, no doubt pleased to have fans.
‘If only you knew’
“I’ve personally never had the pleasure of attending one, but I have no doubts that they are magnifique in their scope and grandeur” This was high praise coming from someone as cynical as me.
“Especially with someone with your musical caliber in their ranks” I additionally and shamelessly complimented.
“You’re sweet… but it isn’t my ‘musical caliber’ that I wish to discuss” She said as she narrowed her analytical gaze on me.
“Then what is it you wish to discuss milady?” A Shakespearean tone once more sneaking its way into my voice as I held her steady gaze.
“Why yours of course! You single handedly brought on a harmonious synchronization event by performing on that stage! I like to consider myself well versed in the musical arts, but only those with a truly powerful calling are capable of doing such so casually by themselves” She spouted in near fervent disbelief before continuing, “You must tell me how you are capable of such things, think of what you could bring to the world of music!” She looked at me with a hint of desperation in her lovely orchid colored eyes.
“Well… I have my doubts about showing you how to bring about those ‘sync events’ you mentioned since they kinda just… happen” I saw the spark of hope start to go out in her eyes, “However! I will be more than able to show you a whole new world’s worth of music” I saw the spark restored as she beamed me a wonderful smile.
“Although I don’t quite wish to discuss the particulars of which in the ‘rays of the public sun’ if you catch my meaning” I motioned with my eyes towards the less than subtle patrons glancing in our direction and murmuring to each other.
“Yes of course! I second the motion that we should continue this ‘most enlightening’ dialogue someplace more secluded, my abode perhaps? She offered.
“Oh.. I wouldn’t want to impose-” I began.
“Nonsense! This is an opportunity to learn from each other! Think of what it could mean for the arts!” She quickly batted away my flimsy excuse.
‘An incredibly beautiful musician inviting me into her home to talk about furthering the arts? Hell, I’m game’
‘I bet another part of you is game too’ My prurient side pointed out.
‘Shut up Brain’
“Very well” I sighed as I rose from my seat, “Shall we away?” I gestured to the exit.
“Let us away. My tenure here has expired for the night” She explained as she made way to the doors.
I grabbed my stuff and set it on my back, looking more and more out of place in the fancy restaurant slash jazz lounge. I bid it a fond farewell by grabbing a hearty handful of those complimentary mint candies on the way out. Popping one into my mouth, I swung the door open to join Octavia outside.
I found my newest acquaintance staring up at the sky just outside the lounge in a manner not so different from that of myself not three hours ago. I silently crept up to her side and observed the starry panorama with her. After five minutes or so of night watching, she finally broke the silence.
“Sublime isn’t it? Our Royal Princess of the Night has outdone herself once again. I’ve always found myself struck with the nocturnal aspects of the sky, the milky glow the moon casts over the land that illuminates everything the lanterns don’t, the cool caress of the eventide air against my skin, and of course the countless stars themselves. Whenever I want to feel inspired enough to compose my own sonatas or even when I want to unwind after a stressful day, I need only turn to the night sky to feel rejuvenated and replenished down to the core of my very being… that and a good cup of coffee the next morning” She breathed out a sigh, finished with her soliloquy.
“You and I have that in common then, minus the coffee of course” I chuckled to myself, “And I think you’ll be equally enchanted by the few nocturnes I possess”
I motioned for her to lead the way, to which she complied and we began treading the cobblestone roads of Concordia in search of Octavia’s residence. Since it was getting late, the streets were all but bereft of people, with only a few stragglers here and there save for us. We resumed our discourse along the way.
“I’m afraid I do not own a piano, so that could complicate matters” She apologetically explained.
“That’s perfectly alright; I have a way of showing you that bypasses the need for one completely” I smirked like a game shark with a trump card up his sleeve, I wonder what her reaction to technology would be?
“I’m most curious as to how, you don’t look like a musically inclined magi” She raised a critical brow at me.
“I’m not, but what I have to show you is just as functional. And you don’t even need to know magic in order to use it” She still looked unconvinced, but soon her doubts would evaporate like fog in the warm light of the Sun.
‘Technology doesn’t believe in gender or racial discrimination!’
“Tell me more about yourself… Zenith was it?” I nodded my confirmation, “You’re from out of the city yes?”
“What gave it away?” I responded with some harmless snark.
“A good number of things. You don’t have the pretentious accent that most residents here converse with; something I find very refreshing by the way, you also don’t seem to submit to or even mind the unofficial dress code that people here hold each other to, and you have the uncommon courtesy to look me in the eyes instead of less than proper areas when I speak to you” She listed as she peered into my piercing crimson irises with a commending smile.
‘What, the nobles here trying to sneak a peek?’
“In a similar vein, you have the most striking pair of red eyes I’ve seen since…” She looked deep in remembrance, “Since an old roommate of mine back in my academy days”
“Lemme guess, she was obscenely agitating, obnoxious, and loved to crank up the volume until she was blasting out the windows” The stunned look on her face suggested that I hit the nail on the head.
“H-how did you know that!? Did you know her?” She asked, absolutely flummoxed.
“Call it a hunch, and not directly no. I’ve seen and put up with enough perturbing roommates to have a whole rap sheet that classifies them according to their unique ‘quirks’ and such” One of the reasons I never lived on university campuses.
‘Although it’s the incredibly weird ones that have a way of growing on you’ I conceded to myself.
“I see…your eerie clairvoyance notwithstanding, we have finally arrived at my humble domicile”
Hers was an apartment from the looks of it, located on a winding city street in close proximity to the Palace grounds. All things considered, it wasn’t a half bad spot to be situated. Even if it was directly under the watchful eyes of the Princesses.
“Well? Aren’t you going to come in?” Octavia asked with a hint of amusement hidden in her voice. I then realized that I idled too long surveying the area.
“Yeah! Just taking in the sights is all” I crossed the threshold and climbed the stairs with the musician.
They led to your average hall filled with doors leading to the respective apartment rooms. Octavia produced a key from her person and inserted it into the tumblers of the lock before fumbling with the knob and opening the door with a slight creak. It was completely dark at first until the woman struck a match and lit a few strategically planted candles, giving the living room muted but adequate lighting. It also smelled faintly of…lilacs?
‘Ooh…scented candles, how aromatic… or romantic depending on the context’ I awkwardly finished that thought; we weren’t going to be creating that kind of sweet music!
Overall it wasn’t too shabby of a place, it had wood panel flooring with snug looking rugs placed where the furniture was, photographs of cherished moments in Octavia’s life, and an impeccably polished and well cared for Cello on a stand in its own special corner in the living room. Simple, but I couldn’t describe it as Spartan; nor was it modest by any stretch of the imagination. I mean look at that sofa! It was fully decked out with tasseled pillows and decorative shawls, who does that? Then I remembered that I was in the apartment of a woman who likely appreciated the finer things in life. The small crystal chandelier over the dining table was a nice touch though.
“So could I interest you in refreshments? A glass of champagne perhaps?” My hostess politely inquired.
“That won’t be necessary, I don’t imbibe. Thank you for your kind offer though” I replied with a curt wave of my hand before plopping down on the sofa.
It was inexplicably comfortable…like the soft embrace of a thousand leathery teddy bears, except less disturbing and more captivating. Shaking off the otherworldly feeling of absolute posterior bliss, I reached into my backpack to retrieve my laptop before setting it down on the coffee table; which fittingly enough had the barest traces of spilled coffee stains on it.
I noticed Octavia had brewed herself a cup of joe and had sat right down next to me looking at it in wonder.
“May I ask what that is?” The curious musician inquired.
“This my dear cellist” I flipped open the lid, “Is the medium through which I shall introduce you to music that could not only revolutionize existing musical genres, but evolve new branches through which these ‘sync events’ can occur” I pressed the power button in an overly histrionic manner to accentuate my previous proclamation.
If I didn’t have her full attention before, then I did after the start up chime announced that my laptop had booted up. The animated wallpaper of a chromatic nebula greeted us both.
“This is…I have no words” Was the stunned woman’s eked out vocalization.
‘These people have the most unusual reactions to technology; I mean my laptop is pretty freakin sweet, but it doesn’t warrant being thunderstruck. Heh, I wonder if she’d like AC/DC?’ I shook my head free of the random tangent.
“This is what is known as a laptop my dear yet confounded Cellist, they were rather commonplace back where I come from but one of a kind in this land. It has a copious amount of uses and functions, but tonight it will soothe your mind and soul with the genius that is Bach’s Cello Suites”
I pulled up the ITunes program and selected the song on my classical playlist before pressing the play button. Yeah that’s right; I have a classical playlist with musical pieces dating all the way back to the Baroque period… because I’m a classy chap with hidden character depth. Octavia could certainly empathize, she looked like she was pulled into a deep trance the moment Yo-Yo Ma’s bow vibrated the strings of the virtual instrument. She stayed glued to that very spot on the sofa for all of the piece’s two hours and ten minutes.
It was certainly a very interesting night spent reviewing the majority of the musical pieces I had stored on my laptop, the only thing that felt worrying was the fact that my battery meter still read a hundred percent.
‘Perhaps the indicator was broken? There’s no way my laptop could stay charged indefinitely right?’
Eventually I had to call it quits since it was well past midnight by this point. Octavia graciously offered to let me stay until morning and I was too tired to even bother trying to refuse her proposal. I still had to find a way to meet up with Daring the next morning… or maybe I don’t, she did imply that she’d come find me. Hope she won’t presume too much by finding me in the apartment of a city (and world’s) renowned musician and newly created ITunes junkie. I halfheartedly chuckled; better think of a good excuse beforehand.
My session of dour predictions and pre-crisis management were temporarily interrupted by my hostess, who was now dressed in a luxurious looking bathrobe.
“I’d like to extend my deepest gratitude for showing me all that exquisite music; I have so many new ideas for adapting some of those affettuosos and allegrettos into my own style!” She enthusiastically rhapsodized.
“I’m glad to have imparted some of my land’s art unto you” Was my sincere response; you can’t be too well informed about culture in my opinion.
“I look forward to discovering more in the coming days” I should have been more concerned with how she emphasized that; but again, too tired for it to really register.
“Good night Miss Octavia”
“Please, just Octavia… and goodnight Zenith” She finished blowing out all the candles but the one on the candelabrum she was holding, before using it to find her way to her own bedroom. Another thing that should have registered with me but didn’t was that she left her bedroom door wide open. Hopefully I wouldn’t come to regret accepting this woman’s suggestion to stay the night at her place.
‘She never said that we were staying over for hot coffee’ My still active logical half reminded me.
‘Sweet dreams’ My exhausted other half responded.
And then I was gone; off to that ethereal realm which was beyond the worries of the physical world.
The crackling sound of wind met my ears, my messenger pack and its precious contents safely secured on my person as I sprinted along the rooftops of the modern looking metropolitan city whose name escaped me at the moment. Just your usual gallivant over air conditioning units and past rows of chimney pipes venting steam. I reached the edge of a high rise after clambering up its excessive stonework and cut my speed down to a complete halt, content to use the lull to observe more of the urban landscape. My lungs scooping up a hearty helping of fresh air as I relaxed. It was a good day to be alive.
Pristine glass encased towers reflected the near blinding light of the sun onto the various commercial and residential buildings below, steady streams of cars poured along the streets and highways that lined the city like veins in a circulatory system, and countless pedestrians lost themselves amongst the hustle and bustle of city life; the vast majority happily deluding themselves with the idea that their local authorities would never withhold the truth from them or renege on their promise of lawful civil security.
‘Pfft… chumps’ I remarked, accompanied by a mental roll of my eyes. I had an important package to deliver, one that could very well ignite the fires of change within the heart of the deceptively clean appearing metro-city. The fact that this particular drop job paid in spades was a nice bonus to boot.
I turned to the side and began a slow jog along the stony ledge of the company building I was standing on, next to it was its incomplete twin still in construction. My drop point was just beneath the unfinished construction project deep inside the subway tunnels that were only accessible there since the crews had wiring and support maintenance that needed doing. I contemplated just how I was going to cross the gap when I saw my opportunity come to me in the form of an elevating crane that was hauling up a conveniently flat looking red steel beam not far beneath me.
I went full steam at that point to gather the speed necessary to vault the gap. The margin for error was slim here; even the slightest misstep would result in a plummet and an untimely impression of raspberry jam with pulp splattered all over the immaculate sidewalk below. But I was a professional, missteps are mistakes that amateurs make, not me. I ran like the wind before commencing a leap that would have made an Olympian proud, launching myself across the gap with all the grace of a jaguar. The beam wasn’t quite close enough for me to land directly on, but I figured a tight handhold on its edge ensured by my traction grip runners gloves would have to suffice. I quickly pulled myself up before my weight tilted the beam too far for me to recover.
I quickly covered the distance between the rest of the beam and a skeletal looking unfinished office cubicle room floor, flashing a grin and a two finger salute to the stupefied crane operator who manage to weakly return the gesture with a confused wave. I leisurely hopped across the expanse separating beam and building when I heard the telltale signs of approaching choppers coming my way.
‘Damn Feds always show up at the worst time’ I lamented with a sigh.
I resumed the free running, hopping down stairways, hurdling over wooden work tables, swinging across monkey bars to gravitate down open gaps between floors; the usual shtick. The staccato like report of helicopter blades growing ever closer with every second.
To a message courier of the resistance, movement is life. To stop moving is to stop living… granted we can’t always keep a steady pace since it’s more of a figurative example than a literal one, except when the heat is on. Plenty of motivation to keep running when the bullets start flying you know?
Of course… the reason I got chosen to deliver this package was because I always kept a level head during a gunfight. Other runners would divert from the fastest route to bypass an obstacle like the Feds, but me? I’m a blockade runner; I go through obstacles, not around them. The shortest way between two points is a straight line after all. Plus I kept a Five SeveN on me for when the going got tough, which was quite often in this line of work.
The FN is a great pistol, hardly weighs two pounds fully loaded yet fires what is essentially a rifle round that will shear its way through all but the strongest body armors, very much illegal in the city as you can imagine. Not that it really mattered, I tend to aim for their computers; housed nicely in those big ol’ glossy helmets of theirs. The fact that its recoil only kicked about as much as a peeved off gerbil was a huge plus in a gunfight, not to mention having twenty rounds of Belgian badassery per cartridge meant that you had serious staying power.
Even though I was told that another runner, Faith I think her name was? Was running interference with a fake package for me today, it would seem that the Feds were taking no chances…they were cracking down hard on the resistance. Those people who were so much as remotely suspected of aiding the underground; even those who did it unknowingly were ‘disappeared’ post haste. It only made us fight harder though, this city would know true freedom from domineering governments once more.
They don’t typically tell us couriers what our delivery consisted of, but what they did tell me was that this could finally be the spark that triggers a true change in this nescient city. If I had to take a guess, I’d say it was evidence of just how invasive the authorities had gotten in their bid for complete control over society, bank account information being manipulated, web searches recorded, communication regulations, video monitoring people twenty four seven regardless of their need for privacy. Stuff that could piss off a right number of people, especially people with influence and sway that weren’t under the government’s payroll.
I had made it down maybe a dozen and a half floors when one of the chopper’s loudspeakers buzzed to life.
“This is the CPF! There’s nowhere for you to run. If you fail to turn yourself in we will open fire! You have been warned” They notified me… not that I was really listening; they spew the same lines on every one of our lunch dates.
When they saw that I wasn’t slowing down, they slid open their hatches, revealing a blue vest manning a very large machine gun on both helos. Along with a small compliment of armed squads should the first method prove ineffective, I had to admit that I was flattered that they spared no expense in ending me this time around. I spotted a large rectangular pile of solid concrete blocks that offered a good amount of cover from the incoming onslaught and dove behind it.
As expected, the blues let loose with a relentless barrage of lead, absolutely peppering the floor I was currently on. Any construction workers had long since cleared the area once the choppers arrived, but I knew that the Feds wouldn’t hesitate to wreak collateral damage and then pin the blame on us if the civvies didn’t evacuate in time, being the slimy underhanded bastards they were.
They didn’t know where I was hiding precisely since the entire floor was shrouded by tarp, so my cover remained relatively intact despite the high caliber rounds they were spraying all over the place. I was only wearing light flexible protection, so even a lucky hit could incapacitate me or cause heavy damage. Not something I wished to experience any time soon.
Once they felt that they had battered the area adequately, the choppers unleashed their armed complement of security troopers who rappelled in with their weapons hot and absolutely itching to pull the trigger. They swiftly blocked off the conventional exits leading downwards and towards my ultimate goal. The rest began sweeping the vicinity, the sound of radio chatter dominating the ambience with its distinct crackling.
I briefly checked my pistol’s magazine to see if it was still loaded, thankfully it was. I pulled back the slide and chambered a round; one of the troopers was drawing closer to my position and I was rearing for a fight.
‘Let’s get dangerous’
I whipped around just as the trooper met my position, surprising him. I used my free arm to emphatically deflect his UMP to the side before firmly planting my pistol against his chin strap and felling the hammer, resulting in a nasty red aerosol and some solid material chunks ejecting out the back of his skull as his body crumpled to the floor in a heap. I grabbed his weapon and hid behind cover once more as my position was lit up by their submachine guns.
‘One down, five to go’ I knew that I didn’t necessarily need to drop them all to get past them, but I felt rather vindictive today.
Once they foolishly ceased their fire to reload their weapons, I bugged out of cover once more to unload on them with the UMP. Its .45 ACP rounds didn’t have much in the way of armor penetration, but any round that did find its way through made short work of the two rookies who didn’t stop to take cover while reloading their guns.
‘Only three left’ I counted down, this was relatively easy compared to some of the situations I've had to shoot my way through.
My commandeered submachine gun was empty, leaving me back to my pistol. I decided to stir the pot a bit and tossed the empty weapon to the side, the loud clanging providing a decisive distraction to one of the three remaining CPF troopers that was hiding behind a stack of timbers and allowed me to forcibly retire him early by popping him in the kneecap as I rushed his position. A swift follow up pistol whip on the head with the Five seveN put him under.
It was a game of cat and mouse with the other two now, they stayed huddled together back to back and jumped at every shadow that moved. I appropriated a frag grenade off the conked out trooper and cooked it for two seconds before lobbing it at the soon to be gibbed blues. They did their best to evade but the frag’s midair detonation and resulting cloud of shrapnel reduced them to smithereens before they could even attempt to dive away.
I probably would have uttered some cliché post mortem one liner, but the sound of the chopper gunners going crazy prevented me from doing so. Realizing that I outstayed my welcome, I holstered my gun and continued my hasty and haphazard descent down the bullet vandalized building. Dodging an insane amount of projectiles while I was at it, when they grew tired of using up all of their ammunition they called in another chopper armed with rocket pods. Demolition came for this building before it even reached completion as they expended wave after wave of missiles into the structure, I had only just reached the bottom staircase leading to the subway system when the whole house of cards came tumbling down. The sonorous rumbling reverberated throughout my entire body, reminding me just how close this whole sordid affair came to being my last.
I barged down the red door with frantic fervor to discover that it opened out directly into a subway tunnel. Dust clouds wrenched from place by the building collapse above powdered the air and caused a gritty taste in the back of my throat. I glanced down at my watch for it to read 2:14, meaning that I had less than a minute before the next train came roaring along the tracks. The whistling shriek of metal on rails confirmed my postulation, thinking quickly I shuffled up the metal grating and scaffolding that was lining the tunnel in order to position myself just above the tracks as the Metrorail came screeching on by. I dropped down onto the train’s roofing and rolled as the train’s momentum caught me.
Once I had sufficiently recovered my balance, I slid between the gap separating train cars and opened the door into the passenger cabin. Keeping a casual stroll down the aisle as I scanned the passengers for my package recipient. I finally spotted them in the form of an unassuming sandy blond haired woman reading a book with an unoccupied seat next to her. By the looks of her, I gathered that she was most likely some form of media distributor or journalist with useful connections. The government’s vice like grip on the fourth estate wasn’t as solid as they believed it to be.
“This seat taken?” I asked, didn’t want to come off as rude after all.
“Feel free” She lackadaisically answered, absorbed into the book.
I obliged and sank into the semi soft course woolen seat, unstrapping my messenger bag as I did so. We sat in silence for a minute or so before ‘sandy’ decided to get her nose out of the book and focus her attention on me.
“Nice day isn-” I stopped her with a raised hand.
“Cut the small talk, you’ve got mail for your viewing discretion only correct?” She slowly nodded in response, looking visibly miffed at my strict no nonsense temperament.
“Good, I have a feeling that you’ll help spread what you see to other people who need to know” I handed her the package containing the vital documents and other material.
She gave them a thorough looking over to confirm that’s what she was looking for before speaking again.
“Everything seems to be in order, I’ll make sure this gets to the right people” She handed me a credit chit which I graciously took, “Here’s your remuneration… oh and I’d like to ask one more thing of you”
“Yeah?”
“I need you to- ”
⁂
“Wake up Zenith” A smooth and delectable sounding voice gently commanded, rousing me from my sleep.
‘That was certainly a visceral experience; don’t think I’ve ever had a dream that palpable. It was like I was actually there or something’ I mused as I politely covered my mouth to mask a quiet yawn.
I opened my still drowsy eyes to see my unexpected hostess Octavia, sitting by the edge of the sofa I currently occupied and wearing a small and vaguely amused smile. I also noticed that she must have draped a blanket over me sometime during the night since I was snug as a bug in a rug on those luxurious leather cushions. I was a little off put by the errant thought that she may have done more than that, but I dismissed it in light of her no doubt principled character.
‘What kind of paranoid arse am I? She clearly conducted an act of kindness and one of the first things I do is cast suspicion on her for it? …I have issues’ If Octavia saw the mental turmoil going on behind my eyes; she didn’t say anything to bring it up.
“How was your rest?” She inquired, tilting her head to the side in a curious gesture.
“Agreeable enough, I’m most grateful for you offering your home to me” I expressed my gratitude.
“Think nothing of it! Besides, I still have to exhaust that marvelous list of music your contraption offers. And only you can show me how to do it” She rose from her spot, “Before we do so however, would you care for some breakfast or coffee perhaps? I don’t have much since I tend to be out most of the time, but I’m convinced I still have a carton of Arcani-O’s around here somewhere”
“Since you’re offering, would you happen to have any citrus? Nothing wakes me up like a nice glass of OJ in the morning” I was one of those people who needed a cool glass of fruit juice in the morning in order to feel peachy keen.
“I’ll be sure to check, in the meantime feel free to use the washroom to err… freshen up” She tactfully suggested, wincing slightly as she did so.
I had a nagging suspicion she got a good whiff of my morning breath. I subtly self-inspected to confirm that I did indeed have halitosis.
‘Whew! That’s strong enough to wake the dead AND put them back under!’
I promptly rose from the makeshift bed and made way for the restroom. Just like with Crystal’s medicine cabinet, Octavia also had a bottle of that piquant tasting mouthwash; only this one was ‘Lavishmint’ flavored. I scoffed in minor amusement and gargled the incredibly pungent liquid before taking care of my other restroom needs.
I also used that opportunity to shave off the scruff that had started to grow on my face, which was beginning to make me look like some kind of hobo initiate. Oddly enough, the shaving utensils were the same here as back home (if a little feminine, but that’s a given). Once I completed the first half of my morning ritual, I exited the bathroom to head to the small kitchenette table Octavia had set up both our breakfasts at.
I found her sitting down sipping at her coffee and gazing out the window, her soft features illuminated by the light of the rising sun that was only just peeking out over the horizon. The long sleeved white blouse she was wearing and the croissant on her plate conveyed to me a sense that this woman was an exception amongst her extravagant and ritzy peers. She was sophisticated but not in the sense that she would shun enjoying the simple things in life like watching the sunrise whilst enjoying a nice cup of steamy caffeinated goodness with a puffy pastry on the side to complete the thought. Even the cheesy vase full of tulips added to the simplistic and humble stateliness that this musician radiated.
‘Wow… since when did I become such a crappy poetic psychoanalyst?’ I asked myself, moving to my chair at the table so she didn’t catch me staring and acting like an absolute creeper.
‘Do the Creep-ah!’ My mind comically referenced.
‘I’ve watched too many snl vids’ I mentally facepalmed.
“You should get started on that cereal before it gets soggy, and I apologize for not having stocked up on fresh orange juice. I’ll have to visit the market sometime this week” Octavia spoke as she took delicate sips at her coffee mug.
“Oh, no need to concern yourself over that. I can live without it”
‘Miserably’ I groused afterwards.
I wolfed down the eponymous cereal in thirty seconds flat (Have to enjoy it you know?) before grabbing my laptop off of the coffee table and setting it down next to ‘Tavi’ and switching it on. The lady continued to take dainty nibbles of her croissant as her eyes widened at the swirly start up display much like they did last night.
“You are enchanted by that aren’t you?” I asked with a playful smirk.
“I could watch that dozens of times and still not fully comprehend that. This is a most marvelous device of yours, where might I find one?” She asked as continued to stare at the admittedly hypnotizing display screen.
“Try the nearest Apple store” I responded with a serious urge to chuckle.
“Really!? I can find such a thing at a common fruit grocer?” She exclaimed in disbelief. At that point I did laugh heartily before shaking my head.
“No you misunderstand. Apple is the name of a company that innovates and designs ‘devices’ such as this. I doubt you’d find one here (or this planet for that matter) or anywhere else in this country”
“You made it apparent that you weren’t from this city, but are you not from this land as well?”
“I’m about as foreign as you could possibly get, minus a strange accent, a different language, and a lack of a visa” I jokingly explained.
“I see… then what land do you hail from? I can’t recall Arcania having any colonies or territories owned besides the Krystal Kingdom, and that will be officially reincorporated into the country with the commencement of the athletic games” She elucidated, giving me that strange analytical gaze from last night.
“I come from a land where the Sun shines and the air is clear and balmy, where palm trees sway in the ocean breeze, silicone implants are the order of the day and the weather is practically perfect year round”
“Sounds like an ideal place to live” She commented.
“It is. I mean, a lot of the people there could learn to be a little less narcissistic, but that was home for me” A small amount of homesickness crept into my voice at the end.
“You sound like you miss it, what made you leave?”
“Circumstances beyond my ability to control” I replied in a flat somber tone, there had to be a reason I got spirited here.
‘And it had better be a good one’ I thought bitterly.
“Let’s get back to the activity at hand; you still have lots of classics to glean some inspiration off of” I drew attention away from myself.
“Well when you put it that way, it makes it seem as if I aim to copy them” She said with indignant undertones.
“Not what I was trying to convey… but hey! They do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery” I replied with my best wisenheimer grin.
“It’s also the most unoriginal way of composing your own musical pieces; I aim to impart my own creative style into my works. True masterpieces are written with an overflow of various and cascading emotions that apply their profound power and perspicacious outlook on life into sections or movements that paint the overall symphony as a whole. To simply duplicate the work of others is for charlatans and imposters. These wonderful tracks shall simply serve as my own artistic muse” She expatiated with a dramatic flick of her satiny coiffure.
‘That was the most long winded justification for listening to long dead composers and purloining their virtuosity that I’ve ever heard’
“Right… well then, how about I start you off with something a little bit different? Something that’s both soothing and profound?”
“How so?”
“Well, it’s a fusion of down-tempo ambiance and classical”
“Very well… you’ll change it if I don’t find it to my liking though, won’t you?”
“Of course! Just a little variety to spice things up” I found the song and hit the play button.
I half expected her to be turned off (heh) by the initially uneventful intro, but she sat there with her eyes closed and absorbed everything. I had to applaud her good sense of patience if nothing else, but it actually looked like she enjoyed what she heard. She gave me a thoughtful hum as the song played out its final notes.
“Well it certainly defies my expectations of what sounds can accompany a piece that was written for piano; I found the string section was a particularly nice touch. It was rather unique considering that it’s an alteration of the original piece”
“And how could you tell that wasn’t the actual composition?” I rhetorically asked. I already knew her penchant for music and the fact that classical and synthesized sounds stick out like a bloated walrus among sea lions, but I wanted her exact opinion.
She gave me a pointed look as if I asked something trivial.
“I have an ear for these things. I don’t even have to be accustomed to this strange genre of ‘ambiance’, clearly the piece was written long before everything else was added. I’m just mildly surprised it managed to hold a uniqueness of its own without taking away from the beauty of the initial composition”
“So now that I’ve given your ‘ambiance’ a chance, can we listen to that classical playlist of yours again?” She asked me with a strangely endearing intonation in her voice.
‘How could I deny such a gracious hostess?’
So we spent the rest of the early morning hours exhausting the whole of my classics list (no small feat). Apparently since it was a Saturday, Octavia didn’t have any business to conduct besides leisure activities, so we had plenty of time to chat as we listened to my ITunes music. She kept the conversation going on and between topics so that it didn’t feel like small talk, she also politely avoided asking any more questions concerning home as she knew it was a sensitive spot for me.
As we spoke, I found out more about her ambitions, such as her goal of becoming first chair cellist of the Royal Orchestra; a position that was filled by some girl named Marvelous Melody. Octavia did not paint the woman in a positive light either, from the sound of it; Melody was an ‘uptight, self-entitled, insufferable drama queen!’ (Her words. Not mine). One of the reasons she kept her position despite this was because her parents had connections that could make the orchestra’s maestro overlook the fact that she was of average talent, and therefore nothing attention grabbing. She also unsubtly hinted that Melody granted ‘favors’ to many of the men in the orchestra to keep them complacent and in the palm of her hand. A real nasty piece of work if I do say so myself, I was starting to wonder if she knew that her plight sounded a lot like one of those soap operas. However I refrained from mentioning this since she wouldn’t understand and/or would take offense.
While we conversed, I couldn’t help but feel as if I was forgetting something vaguely important that I was supposed to prepare for, but for the life of me I just couldn’t recall.
‘It’s probably nothing too dire, otherwise I would have remembered… right?’
That’s about the time there was a rather fervent knock on the door, followed by an unpleasant rush of dreadful realization as I finally remembered what I had forgotten. The subsequent flow of panic and frustration at myself for being so foolish was summed up in one thought.
‘SHIT! How did I forget about Daring!?’
I had about three seconds to mentally debate over what I should do, on one hand it could be someone else besides Daring come a knockin’, and on the other hand if I let Octavia answer it and I hid someplace inconspicuous it would look kind of incriminating to both parties. Gulping nervously, I decided to bite the bullet and answer it myself, who knows? Maybe I’ll be fortunate and it won’t be her. Silently cursing the lack of peep holes on the door, I slowly opened it.
As fate would have it, the doorway opened to reveal an irate looking Daring standing there with her arms crossed and her body posed in a way that said ‘You have a lot to explain mister’. Needless to say she did not seem happy in the slightest. I had my work cut out for me this morning evidently… my continued existence hinging on Daring’s ability to accept reason and not immediately give in to her firebrand nature.
‘Oh frak me’ The prospects weren’t exactly reassuring.
I decided to play it cool, confidence implicates honesty right?
“Mornin’ Daring, what’s up?” That’s right, just channel casual. If this still blows up on me, at least I can say I died with some roguish charm still attached.
“You know… when I told you to find something to do, I didn’t quite mean you could do anything you felt like. So as you can imagine, finding you here at the residence of one of Concordia’s most renowned cellists makes me rather suspicious”
‘Gee… why doesn’t she just outright accuse me of fornicating with someone I only just met last night?’
“Zenith? Who is that at the door?” Came Octavia’s voice in the background.
“Colleague of mine, we’re discussing business arrangements” I fibbed, it was true in a fashion. I leaned in towards Daring and lowered my voice.
“I’ll have you know that our fraternizing last night was strictly platonic and I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating here” The only thing that was missing from me was pointing in an accusatory manner like Harrison Ford.
“Forgive my dubiety, it’s just that when I tell someone to hang tight while I sort things out, I don’t expect to find them keeping some snobby hussy company!” She harshly whispered in turn.
“Bite your tongue! Octavia is one of the most down to Earth socialites I’ve ever met! And she is not a HUSSY!”
“So you don’t think she’s hot?” She shamelessly baited me into a word trap, I sprung it anyway.
“Are you kidding? She’s like a nine out of ten in the looks department”
“A-Ha! I knew you totally plowed her fields!”
“Slow down champ, just because she’s a looker doesn’t automatically mean that I banged her since you found me at her place. How did you track me down anyway?” I had my own conjectures as to how, but I needed her to specify.
She held up a small and softly pulsating globe filled with swirling strings of blue and black fluid. The blue strings formed a crude arrow pointing in my direction, or more accurately, the direction of my backpack sitting by Octavia’s couch. I connected the dots in my head and concluded that the faint glow in the zipper compartment I briefly noticed was the tracking beacon that I originally suspected she placed somewhere on my person.
“You planted a tracking device in my backpack yesterday didn’t you?” The smug smile she showed me was all the answer I needed.
“So are you finished ‘fraternizing’ or should I come back in an hour?” Daring snidely remarked with hefty amounts of sarcasm, well two can play at that game!
“Probably an hour, she’s one of those girls who like to cuddle after doing the dirty deed” I nonchalantly quipped in response.
“WHAT!? You told me your activities were platonic!” She spoke with agitation evident in her tone; there were also undertones of… betrayal? No, I’m over-thinking it. I sighed to myself and shook my head; it was still too early for this nonsense.
“Look… you obviously are going to assume that I slept around last night no matter what I say, so I won’t go through the effort of trying to convince you otherwise. And even if I behaved like a sleazebag and found someone to temporarily warm my bed, what of it? You’re not my keeper Daring; I don’t need someone to monitor my every movement”
She gave me an irritated growl and a scathing glare that only a woman can pull off. She then grabbed me by the collar and pulled me closer to make her next point perfectly clear. Again, she was deceptively strong for her frame size.
“You’re only half right, I was actually sent here with the dual purpose of retrieving you and bringing you to the Royal Palace. I’m not sure what you did to warrant it, but you’ve somehow attracted the attention of both monarchs who want to meet you face to face… so I suggest getting your act together before I drag you there by the heels”
‘I was hoping to avoid anything like that. It seems like fate enjoys making me squirm. Better appease her quick before she goes Achilles on my ass’
“I don’t have a choice in this do I?” She slowly shook her head as a negative to that.
“Right… well how bout’ you let go of that death grip of yours and I’ll grab my stuff and bid farewell to Octavia? I’ll be in and out in a minute or so. Real fast I promise!” I gave her a completely innocent grin.
She gradually loosened her grip, but kept that fearsome stare of hers, likely warning me against any more funny business. I took the hint and went back inside to recover my things, softly shutting the door behind me so that there was a distinct lack of visual stimuli for Daring to misconstrue in any way. I found that the cellist was in her kitchenette brewing herself another cup of coffee. If she heard any of the more heated moments of our conversation earlier, she showed no signs of it. I quickly swept up my laptop from the table and put it back in my pack before addressing the alluring musician who let me into her home for the night.
‘Wait, when I put it that way I make myself sound like some kind of pity case’ I patiently pondered while I waited for her full attention; I figured the cessation of time-honored music filling the air was enough to lure her concentration my way.
“Well my dear Octavia, I’m afraid that we must part ways for now. I’ve recently been informed that I’ve been summoned…again”
She glanced up confusedly from her coffee mug, “Summoned? By whom?”
“Only the highest authority in the land” I answered with some blasé, having been through this before. Her pupils dilated and she nearly choked on her beverage, giving a couple of ladylike coughs to clear her airways before recomposing herself.
“The Princesses have requested your presence!? Just who have I brought into my home that regards the Solar and Lunar diarchs so insouciantly?”
“Me” Was my unrefined response. It’s not like I had a title that I was going to browbeat her with.
She stared at me with reverence…and more than a little apprehension, likely seeing me as some kind of upper echelon member of government who could blacken her name with a mere flick on ink on paper. I’ve seen how people put on a nervous face when they felt like were being examined under a magnifier to reveal their many flaws, and Octavia was expressing that to the point of petrifaction. I found the feeling (no matter how illusory) of holding her livelihood in my hands to be most distasteful. I generally don’t like people practically cowering in fear of me for any reason whatsoever… except on Halloweens or during a really sinister prank, but that’s neither here nor there.
I approached the woman, who to my dismay drew back slightly in fright the moment I did so. I stopped and held my hands up in a disarming fashion, not wanting to unnerve her any further. I then spoke in the gentlest and most sincere voice I could muster.
“Relax Octavia; I’m not somebody you have to pretend to put on airs around. I’m not a person who would erase your reputation with little more than a lazy afterthought…”
I drew closer once more, this time she did not withdraw. Once I was within distance I put a reassuring hand around her shoulder, she flinched slightly in response but otherwise kept her gaze trained on the floor. I put my left index finger under her chin and elevated her head so she could look me in the eyes.
“…and I am not someone you have anything to fear from. I’m your friend Octavia, and would very much like to acquaint more of myself with you in the future”
‘How often does one get to spend time with the human counterpart of one of their favorite background ponies after all?’ I mentally chortled in amusement.
Her lovely light magenta irises were glistening with moisture as they stared into my own, whether from trepidation or another feeling I simply couldn’t tell. She closed them and sedately verged closer to my face with pursed lips.
‘Uhm… that’s not what I had in mind!’ I mildly panicked and immediately pulled back from the dangerously emotional musician.
“Right! Well, I best be off then” I clapped my hands together like nothing had happened and headed straight for the door with my stuff in tow. I’m not sure what the expression on her face was at the time and I didn’t intend to stick around long enough to feel guilty about it.
“I’ll be sure to attend any upcoming concertos with you in them!” I cheerfully added as an upbeat consolation as I left the room, didn’t want to give her the impression of getting cold feet you know?
I rejoined Daring out in the hallway, finding her leaning against the wall and just looking impatient all around. I rolled my eyes in response to her restless behavior.
‘Typical Daring, at least she had the decency not to eavesdrop on us. Or didn’t she?’ I exhaustively shook my head. It was of little consequence either way.
Wordlessly, Daring got up from her spot and strolled down the hall to the stairway preceding the exit. Taking my discreet cue, I diligently followed after her and kept my mouth shut. Content to simply walk behind her as she led me out into the startlingly busy Concordian streets, pushing our way past peddlers and a medley of other people going about their daily business. The gates leading up to the palace weren’t very far, since Octavia’s place was almost quite literally just around the corner. Daring was quiet the entire way there, I figured that she was giving me what was colloquially referred to as ‘the silent treatment’.
‘Hah! Silent treatment has no effect on this playa!’
‘Hush Brain, pissed off Daring does have an effect’ I chided myself, I’d have to find a way to make it up to her later when she’s feeling more reasonable.
Eventually we came upon the first gateway that led into the castle grounds. I found it incredibly quaint that the drawbridge was encapsulated by a ring like moat, although I could tell that it was mostly for aesthetic purposes since the water couldn’t have been more than a few feet deep and about a yard wide. The gateway itself also doubled as a security checkpoint with a couple of Royal guards posted every few meters and pickets patrolling the crenelated walls above. Each one was armed with a long spear tipped lance accompanied by a secondary sword kept in ornate scabbards at their sides.
The guards themselves were something else, unlike the ones back in the Krystal Kingdom, these guards wore the full helmets to mask their faces. The helmets themselves were like a fusion of Corinthian and Spartan helms with a T-shaped visor and a crest with navy blue hairs. Their torsos and legs were covered in what reminded me of Dwemer armor from Elder Scrolls, a golden bronze sheen lightly shone off of their polished surfaces. Their shoulder pauldrons were massive though, they seriously looked large enough to land a Boeing on top of. Whoever designed their armor sets clearly believed that the larger the shoulder pads, the more badass they looked, and frankly I was inclined to agree with them.
We approached the pair of guards assigned as gatekeepers while Daring pulled out some kind of writ of passage and presented it to the man on our right. He took the parchment and thoroughly looked it over before briefly pausing in his reading and glancing back up in my direction. He gave a wordless command using a series of hand gestures and the drawbridge lowered itself to grant access to us. We promptly crossed over; the commanding guard never once taking his level gaze off me, the fact that I couldn’t see his expression behind that metal helmet of his only made it more unsettling.
‘I appear to be making waves no matter where I go. I hope this doesn’t become a recurring issue’ I groused to myself.
The drawbridge opened up into a castle courtyard dominated by elaborate hedges and floral arrangements. The myriad of flower aroma’s that filled the air was strong, but not so much as to be overpowering or obnoxious. There were plenty of decorative fountains as well, each with a unique figurehead such as a rearing horse, a soaring bird of some kind, and others of various shapes and sizes. A tranquil stream dotted with lily pads flowed through the courtyard gardens and under a small arching bridge. A diverse array of mushroom coned buildings and towers populated the palace grounds, each with some kind of checkered or starry patterns adorning their structure. In addition there was also a golden Orrery fount depicting the sun and moon as well as other planetoids in orbit around the Earth. It blatantly opposed everything I ever learned about astronomy by just existing.
‘Copernicus, Galileo, and every other ancient proponent of the heliocentric model would be rolling in their graves if they could see this’ I humorously observed as we passed on by the Orrery in question.
The grounds were oddly absent of anybody besides myself and Daring, it was rather eerie to be honest. You’d think that the monarchs had the place purposely cleared out of all non-essential personnel. There weren’t any priggish nobles (not that I was complaining), nor commoners with concerns that they wished to voice, or even housekeeping staff trimming the bushes or dusting some important statue. It was as mute as the grave save for the soft whistle of the mountainous winds blowing through the air and the soft pattering of our footsteps against the stony walkway.
‘Gee, a funeral procession would be livelier than this’ I cynically griped.
The courtyard’s cobbled path eventually ended and the castle doors revealed themselves to us. Seeing as Daring (who was still deathly quiet) was admirably playing the part of an inadvertent tour guide, I assumed that she’d been on the castle grounds in the past. It made sense if she met with the Aristocracy here from time to time. As much as I enjoyed the intricately planned and maintained landscape, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a more expedient to reach the front doors.
‘Perhaps she just loves taking the scenic route?’
We pushed open the doors and found ourselves inside a sizable entrance hall with archways leading into multiple corridors and the main castles numerous chambers and rooms. Colorful tasseled banners hung from the stonework and the ceiling in droves. As with the courtyard, nary a soul could be found… and it was starting to get to me. We strolled along the reddish maroon carpeting and up the stairs, which were illuminated by the rays of the morning sun passing through two stained glass windows representing the Sun and Moon in their prime elements respectively.
I made a joking comment about how there weren’t nearly as many stairs to ascend in Concordia as there were in the Krystal Kingdom, but Daring insisted on giving me the cold shoulder and pressing on without another word. I realized that I must have upset the woman more than I originally estimated and resolved to thinking of more ways I could make peace with her.
Sadly, being the hopeless guy I am, I couldn’t come up with anything solid enough to work amicably for the both of us. I fully realized that Daring had developed a kind of fondness for me since we were ‘paired’ together by Cadence, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how I felt in return.
‘Dammit heart, why you so indecisive!?’ I mentally pictured the meme face to complete the thought.
Daring was adventurous and brave (if a bit brash) yet also had a touch of smarts to analyze any situation and react accordingly, even when she was being infuriating I still found her endearing at the same time. She had a pretty kickin’ job, even if it involved working with an iteration of the CIA that focused on archeology over espionage (or did it?). She traveled the world on a regular basis and got to hold objects of mysterious origins and power, often keeping them out of the wrong hands at the same time. She was the eponymous proprietor of a famous book series detailing her many adventures and escapades. She may not have been much for high society functions, but seemed like she knew how to be cool and have fun anyways, even if it involved getting a bit tipsy at times.
I don’t know what this amazing gal saw in me, I can be honestly blunt to the point of being a bit dickish, I actually have to fight the urge to make derisive or snide comments whenever someone is demonstrating even the slightest inadequacy, and I have a bad tendency of acting like a complete pessimist (realist) when I feel like Murphy’s out to clobber me with his ridiculous law. I comprehend that I’m being my own worst critic here, but how exactly can you weigh your own worth objectively?
As I fussed over these things in my mind, I barely registered the fact that we had finally arrived at the massive doors leading to the throne room. For once there were some human beings besides us in close proximity, although as Royal Guards they were so inaudible that they might as well had not even been there to begin with. Daring spoke some hushed words to one of them who nodded in response and motioned for his fellow to open the mammoth metal portals. The hinges must have been very well oiled because the doors made only the slightest creak as they slowly swung open. The adventuress then did a heel face turn and marched right past me without so much as a passing glance, I was tempted to call out to her but remembered that it would only have to opposite effect to what I wanted.
So with a heavy sigh, I timidly took my first steps toward the throne room chamber before straightening up and ceasing to drag my feet. My next hour could very well be my last for all I knew of the situation, but I was going to face it with dignity darn it!
“Good luck” The guard on the left murmured, receiving a reproachful look from his comrade as if he’d committed some unspoken taboo. The doors closing with an almost ominous ‘thunk!’ as I advanced along the now blood red carpet.
‘You know you’re in for it when even a Royal Guard breaks his silence to wish you good fortune’ I mused with oodles of sarcasm.
I kept my gaze focused on the carpet as I drew closer and closer to the dais of the throne. The curtains were drawn halfway down the many stained glass windows that lined the chamber, so it was in between well-lit and shadowy. The very air itself seemed to be thrumming with a kind of ethereal energy that only grew stronger as I walked along the crimson rugs. I recall feeling two distinct presences in the room. One was warm and bright without being too garish, and spoke of reassuring comfort to those in need while also promising righteous retribution on those who would do others great wrong. While the other presence was of a calm and cool attitude that held a kind of composed and calculating charm to it, yet there was something else behind it… a feeling of remorse for not being strong enough to resist becoming one with the darkness and a firm resolution to never again succumb to the gilded temptations of power that evil offered.
I was contemplating how I could discern so much from such transcendental sensations when I was promptly addressed by a voice as sweet as honey and yet sturdy as steel.
“You are the one called Zenith?” The Solar Monarch inquired.
“I am” I humbly replied, keeping my eyes to the floor.
“Don’t be afraid to look us in the eye young one, we won’t bite… I promise” She finished with a harmonious sounding laugh.
“I avert my eyes not out of fear, but out of respect your majesties” I clarified with complete candor.
“Oh, and what about us do you hold in such high esteem? Our precious niece Cadence was not shown such reverence” The Lunar Monarch pointed out with some skepticism. She also sounded irked with how I didn’t fully prostrate myself either. I might show a person respect when it’s well deserved, but never subservient submission.
‘As long as they don’t threaten to have me drawn and quartered for lack of obeisance’ I grimly joked to myself.
“I never mentioned to Princess Cadence how much admiration I hold for the both of you, your integrity under the most trying of circumstances…” There was a slight waiver in the air from her, as though she believed me mistaken in my assumption.
“… and your determination to set things right and redeem yourself despite your past mistakes. I also admire your sister’s incredible endurance and patience for holding a kingdom together for an entire millennium while awaiting the return of her precious sister, not to mention pulling double duty on raising and lowering the astral bodies” I ended with a slight chuckle.
The intrinsic flow of energy from the Sun Princess swirled and churned in response to my verbal accolades, whether in approval or heartfelt appreciation was lost to me in the vortex of power that clung to the atmosphere like a thick blanket of fog.
“We see that our niece was not mistaken, thou art… you are a most intriguing individual indeed” She corrected herself, probably still adjusting to the vernacular after a thousand years. Her appraisal was decidedly neutral; it could have meant anything from a criticism to a legitimate compliment.
“I do pride myself on being unique your highness” I finally raised my head to peer upon the immortal sisters.
They were as magnificent as one would expect them to be, positively radiating power befitting of their stations. Celestia was statuesque for a woman, almost able to meet me eye to eye should we had been level to each other, and I am by no means short. Her multi-tone ethereal hair seemed to undulate and ripple as if caught in an invisible solar wind. Ghost like Angel wings extended from her back, and much like her hair were intensely pulsating with light. A very Romanesque inspired Stola that hugged and accentuated her goddess like features was draped over her body, an opening in the sheets exposing her sculpted midriff…
‘You know what? I should really stop staring right now; I sincerely hope that they aren’t the telepathic type or I could end up in some really hot water…okay maybe one more glance’ I cautiously did so, but only to observe Luna this time.
Luna was no less majestic a being for the polar opposite of her sibling. Her starry hair cast a nebulous glow that seemed to take in the surrounding light and refine it into something spectacular in scope. She was shorter than her elder sister but no less impressive to gaze upon, wearing a navy blue dress that served to emphasize her moon white skin. Her wings were less flashy and more opaque in their almost smoke like appearance. Unlike her sister, I noticed that she openly kept a sword sheathed at her side. It clashed horribly with her gown, but I doubt that she cared about aesthetics. I could only imagine the weapon served an intimidating visual purpose over a combative one since she was a powerful magic user that probably didn’t even need one.
“Art thou finished with thy leering?” Apparently Luna slipped into ye’ old English when agitated. Giving me a baleful glare that would have withered a lesser man into a pile of ash. I reacted quickly in order to save face… and the rest of my body too!
“Forgive me your highness; I have not had the pleasure of beholding your fathomless beauty. It has left me…star struck” I grinned at the end, internally satisfied with the witticism.
If she was flattered by the remark, she didn’t express it in any way. Choosing instead to narrow her sight as if scanning me for something, a faint glow emanating from her moonstone bindi. I don’t think she found what she was looking for because I could see her furrow her brow in frustration at something. She abruptly turned to her sister to speak her mind.
“I do not trust him Celestia, he hides his inner nature quite masterfully. Burying it within himself so deeply as to make the depths of Tartarus look shallow” Her words made me flinch inside, she was attempting to scry my very personality!
Celestia raised a hand to silence her, “Be at peace my dear Luna” She then returned her attention to me, “It is quite obvious that this isn’t a social call, but we intend to discover if you are indeed the far lander that the Sisters of Fate foretold of”
“Sisters… of… Fate?” Was my nonplussed reaction.
‘What have I gotten myself into this time?’
The Princess didn’t clear up my confusion straightaway, instead launching into a monologue describing what Cadence had informed her of.
“Our cherished niece Cadence wrote of a ‘strapping young man’ who had vanquished a renegade and feral Snow Dragon before she had even met you. One who also went through the effort of helping to retrieve an artifact of dark power from a demented madman intent on securing immortal life and vast magic for himself. Thereby removing a second Sombra before he could threaten the Krystal Kingdom once more. A man who could recognize the need for negotiation over needless bloodshed, as evidenced by your redeeming of the sell sword Jomar” She calmly listed my achievements in the short time that I’ve been here, her measuring eyes not leaving me for a second.
I bashfully scratched at the back of my head, “Well yeah, but I didn’t do it alone. I was a part of a coordinated team for both of those occasions”
She beamed me a splendiferous smile, “It appears that you are humble as well, a virtuous trait to have mastered”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how were you informed of this so quickly? I can’t think of any letter carriers who are that fast!” I seriously just got here, and the Krystal Kingdom’s railways were still shutdown as far I knew.
“Are you not familiar with bottled Dragon fire? Two flames of the same gout can be used to transmit messages near instantaneously between correspondents” She plainly elucidated as if it were a common thing. Knowing this world, it probably was.
“Oh… I can’t imagine that those are easy to collect” I lamely responded, shocked that they had a wizard’s version of instant messaging.
“If they were taken from an unwilling drake, I would agree with you. However we have a few native dragons that willingly provide their magical fire for such applications” She expounded with a slight giggle.
“You’ll have to pardon my ignorance. As your niece might also have mentioned, I’m not exactly from around here” She nodded in response, that enigmatic smile remaining on her face.
“Yes she did, describing you as a originating from another ‘world?’ as you put it?”
“That’s the long and short of it, yes” My answer received a scoff from the Lunar sovereign.
“During my ‘absence’ on our moon, we had more than enough time to observe the universe. We could see nothing that indicated that life was anywhere but on this good Earth, therefore we find such a notion completely ludicrous” Luna presented her opinion, with a tinge of anger directed towards herself for obvious reasons.
“Allow me to restate that then. I’m not just from another world, I’m from another universe altogether” The unconvinced look didn’t depart from her features, but she said nothing in response to rebuke me.
“That is…quite the claim Zenith, you must understand that we place great faith in the many prophecies that the Sisters of Fate made during their tenure. But for a foreigner from outside this very cosmos to be this world’s salvation…” She trailed off, allowing for a tense and uneasy silence to sink in.
“About that, who and what are you referring to regarding these Sisters of Fate and their prophecies?” I queried. Whether I liked the implications or not, I knew that this wasn’t something I could ignore lightly.
“Perhaps it is best if we show you” She answered.
Celestia motioned for me to walk with her to which I complied, her fellow monarch trailing close behind to keep an eye on me. I get that she didn’t trust me, but did she really have to express it so passionately? I could all but feel the cold glare that she projected on the back of my neck. To take my mind off of the disconcerting feeling, I took a gander at the rows of colorful stained glass murals that lined the pillared chamber; each one memorializing and commemorating the achievements of the individuals portrayed within. These visual illustrations apparently went very far back, showing events all the way from the unification of the three clans to the first defeat of Sombra by the Royal Sisters to even the more recent redemption of Luna by the wielders of the Elements.
Using her magic, the Princess of the Sun flung open the heavy metal doors with a casual flick of her hand. The Guards attending it from earlier immediately snapped to attention. Only to return to a more relaxed posture after she had issued a soft spoken command for them to be at ease. I was shepherded down the bannered corridor to another set of doors that were just as easily magicked open with the golden glow of the Solar Sovereign’s spell.
Inside was another hallway also embellished with various stained glass windows. Unlike the ones in the throne chamber however, these murals did not show great feats being performed by heroic people. Instead they were more prescient in their design, delineating wide scale events with far reaching consequences. There were positive occurrences such as bountiful harvests, prosperous economies, and a general period of peace for all. But there were catastrophic scenes as well; earthquakes that tore the land asunder, a tyrant potentate necromancer that led armies of the undead and oppressed the natives of strange and exotic lands, dastardly demonic beings breaking free of their bonds and emerging from Tartarus to wreak death and destruction, and other disasters that plagued the land and left great suffering in their wake.
‘This world has a lot of hidden history, much of it tragic’ I sadly observed.
“This is the hall of prophecies” Celestia explained with solemnity as we progress through the interior, “Every prediction that the Sisters of Fate ever made in their time as foreseers has been recorded and subsequently depicted in their incidence here in this very room”
“And how accurate were their predictions?” I anxiously asked, though I was curious in equal quantities.
She gave me a very serious stare, “They were never mistaken in their foresight” she then pointed to another mural on the wall, this one showing a frightening and armored figure cloaked in shadow descending upon the Earth with the stars resonating with power in the background.
“And the stars shall aid in her escape” Luna whispered somberly behind me, “If only we had known that it was myself that was prognosticated about, we could have preve-” She choked up as she was interrupted by an embrace from her sibling, who calmly whispered comforts and reassurances in her ear.
I left the two immortals to their private moment and took the time to observe more of the murals in detail. Before each window was a metal engraving on a pedestal with the actual predictions written on them. The predictions were always in rhyme and structured in sets of four lines per stanza.
‘I guess anything involving Oranges is safe’ I laconically thought as I moved on to the central mural.
This one was of the Sisters of Fate themselves, as evidenced by the placard that listed their names and identities before they became foreseers and their new titles after being granted their precognitive visions of the future. The dual background of serenity and ruination was fitting, as they predicted both positive and negative happenings. They transcribed their visions into scrolls and other material while they dwelled in their Tower of Destiny. An amusing side note on the placard stated that the checkered pattern painted on the tower was the idea of the cheerful one in red; it soon became a tradition of sorts to have the design on any tower that was even minutely important.
It also indexed information regarding the women themselves beginning from left to right, although I noticed a distinct lack of info regarding their Mana Marks and to my minor frustration, the mural did not depict them in a way that visibly showed what their marks represented. I had to deny my inquisitive need to ask what they were when I remembered that now was not the best time. So with an exasperated exhale, I resumed examining each woman’s profile.
The aforementioned woman in red was born as Dayshine, an agrarian clan woman who was renowned for spreading smiles and laughter everywhere she went as well as keeping in touch with all the people whose lives she touched.
‘That explains the clown nose and jester’s cap’ I drily noted.
She renamed herself Delphi when she inherited her gift of foretelling the future. The woman in the middle wearing blue was called Windsong before her conversion into a prophetess. She was a Skyborn woman who was loved by all for her legendary selflessness and good will. There was never a moment in her life where she wasn’t working for the well-being of her people and even the people of other realms, constantly caring about others and giving of herself to the world at large.
‘She sounds… nice’ I wished I knew more people who were like that.
Her new name was to be Alethea when the responsibility of witnessing auguries was placed on her delicate shoulders. The well-dressed woman with her eyes open was named Star Gem, who was incredibly gifted in the field of magic in her day. She was also very truthful and spoke her mind whenever she felt that there was an injustice that needed correction. Despite being a high born Stellar Magi, she insisted on working her way up in the schools of magic, never once exploiting her connections to raise her station. She became known as Ophelia once she developed the capability of divination.
‘That’s a fancy neck ruff that she’s sporting’ Sixteenth century fashion was pretty flamboyant in my opinion.
“They were the Archetypes for Elements of Harmonious Virtues you know. I sometimes like to imagine that their spirits lived on in the form of the Elements themselves” Celestia’s musical voice piped in, jostling my mundane thoughts. I turned to her and noticed that there was a Lunar Princess now missing from the room.
“Luna has decided to retire to her quarters to reconstitute her mental fortitude for the rest of the day light hours before attending to her duties of raising her valued namesake” Celestia automatically answered for me, having seen the question formulate in my eyes. I merely nodded in understanding before she continued speaking.
“She… relapses every now and then when reminded of her transformation into the Night Terror. I do everything in my power to comfort her and console her, gently nudging her to go out and reacquaint herself with her subjects. To see that they would accept her despite the mistakes she made over a millennium ago, but progress has been slow… even today there are those who would entertain fantasies of the harsh Mistress of the Night and spread fear over a threat that was erased from this world years ago. Eliminated by the fellowship of a close circle of young women who embody the very virtues that these three exemplified” She gave a near imperceptible sigh as she finished confiding that in me. I was truly touched; we haven’t even known each other a full hour and she’s already telling me about her sibling’s readjustment issues, that's real trust right there.
‘Night Terror huh? Not as scary a title as say…Deathmoon Destroyer, but I digress’ I mentally entertained as a quick tangent.
“Time heals all wounds, but that doesn’t mean that it won’t leave a scar in their place” I philosophized; empathetic conversations were something I could do with ease thanks to my excellent listening skills. I returned my focus on the Prophetic Sister’s mural and asked the question that’s been bugging me since this whole thing began.
“What does their ‘far lander’ prophecy have to do with me being here?”
“Before they passed, the Sisters made one final prophecy that shocked their listeners so much that they couldn’t in good conscience reveal to the public what was the last grand prediction was. So they banded together to weave a false prophecy in its place and keep the real one hidden from the world forever”
“And since you know this last prophecy of theirs, do you agree with their actions?”
She shook her head in a cheerless fashion, “No I do not, but I understand why they did so. One does not treat the end of life with a perfunctory attitude after all. They believed that a harmless lie was a better alternative than a painful truth”
“That serious huh? So how did you find out what the actual prognostication was?”
“When my sister and I ascended to our roles as the leaders of Arcania and stewards of the Sun and Moon, the last of those men who hid the truth had requested us to come to his deathbed so he could reveal a secret he had originally intended to take to his grave. He recounted to us precisely what he and his colleagues had done and recited the last fateful prophecy of the Sisters, for he had memorized it and knew it by heart”
She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, then relayed the memory to me in a voice that was as deep as the Ocean and as solid as the Earth. Why the prophecy was delivered to me like it was an incantation was beyond my current ability to comprehend. Her words reverberated so much that I swear I felt the ground shake from their very utterance. Compounding my confusion was the fact that her golden bindi was inactive, meaning another form of magic was at play here.
“In the twilight age composing the realm of harmony, Would there be a fulfillment of prime prophecy An outsider would arrive from lands far away hurled, Into the shifting balance of this world
With a spirit befitting the sky, And a moniker matching the stars on high Our saviour would consist of humble worth, Yet be the greatest benefit to bless the Earth
Though at first doubtful and largely reluctant, This valiant venturer will find the encroaching evil most repugnant Despite having no sovereign in his heart's domain, He would possess incredible skill and latency arcane
His advancement need require great diligence, As his wry wit might lessen his vigilance A crimson eyed personage of unusual circumstance, Only he can silence the forthcoming dissonance
People from all walks will he direct and unify, Together, oblivion shall they stand to combat and defy The crucial contender in this immortal’s game, Without him... all the world shall be wreathed in flame”
My mind ran a thousand lightning fast calculations over the wording of the prophecy. No matter how many times I crunched and re-crunched the data, it all boiled down to the same conclusion. I felt my palms start to grow clammy and my fingernails unconsciously dug into my skin. My teeth clenched and would have ground themselves to dust had I not kept some small semblance of control.
‘I don’t believe it…damn you Murphy, damn you’ If this truly alluded to me, then it could only mean one thing.
‘I’ve been Gary Stu-ed!?’ I would have fallen to my knees and tore my shirt off in a disappointed and berserk rage, but given my current company that would have been bad form. Instead I chose to settle for just standing there like a statue, my left eye twitching occasionally from all of the pent up stress brewing inside.
‘It all makes sense now! The new physique, the wings, the levitating chalice… this whole time I’ve been nothing but a…!' I paused in my hysterical distress, what were the human versions of Alicorns called here?
“Excuse me your Highness” I didn’t sound fully calmed down, my voice cracking a little bit, “Might I ask what those rare individuals with the abilities of all three Arcanian clans are labeled as?”
“We are Trifects Zenith” She answered me in a sage like tone.
The way she spoke told me that she wasn’t just referring to herself and her sister, but myself as well. Deductively it made sense, Cadence might have described me as having been Skyborn when I was really much more than that, first hinted at when I subconsciously levitated the Crystal Chalice out of that chasm and now finally confirmed with this blasted Prophecy.
“I need time to think” Was all I could eke out.
I felt just like Atlas with the weight of the world firmly supported on my shoulders. It was a harrowing feeling that tested the integrity of my own soul; never would I have imagined that I would find myself in such a situation regarding the fate of an entire world. I had to have some time to myself to sort out everything that had just happened to me if I was to have any chance of egressing with my sanity still intact.
“I can’t pretend to know how you feel Zenith, but I’ll do everything in my power to see that you overcome the many challenges that will no doubt show themselves in the future”
She then ushered me out of the hall and into the main Palace corridor, from there she personally led me along a maze of twists and turns that culminated into another long set of stairs going up some kind of tower. The whole way I found myself in some kind of daze, mindlessly following in the footsteps of the immortal Princess who was as she put it, guiding me toward a ‘special place’ in the Castle’s vast interior. When she saw that I was in no mood to converse, she mercifully stayed quiet for my sake.
We came upon a set of double doors that the Princess actually pushed open instead of using her magic, perhaps to maintain some sense of normality or balance, it mostly escaped my attentions. What with the emotional storm I was weathering at the time. The moment they opened, a midday breeze caressed my face with its cool touch, momentarily breaking me out of my internal funk.
Eager to further distract myself, I used the lull to observe my surrounding once again. The first floor of the tower wasn’t something I’d recognize right off the bat, to my immediate left was a sofa bed overlaid with circular pillows along with a balcony view of the bustling city below. There were potted plants and even a small section of hedges planted to my right. Up the half spiral staircase was a platform furnished with numerous bookcases, a massive hourglass filtering down time as well as grains of white sand, stood like a silent guardian awaiting its next custodian. Alongside it was a statuette of a Unicorn head, reminding me of the same symbolism I saw back in the Krystal Kingdom’s library entrance. Large window panels allowed for a view of the surrounding spires of the castle. Shelves upon shelves of books neatly arranged in side-way stacks and haphazard piles dominated the majority of the serene sanctuary, indicating that whoever previously inhabited the quarters was a huge bookworm.
‘And I have an idea who’
“These shall be your accommodations for now. I hope that you find them to your liking, if you have any questions or concerns then feel free to bring them up with me personally” She paused, as though unsure of what else to say to alleviate my distraught state of mind.
“I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts” She turned to leave when I stopped her with a few words.
“You have my gratitude, Princess Celestia”
“Please Zenith, you can be casual with me. You are technically Royalty after all” She revealed to me with a slight titter.
“As you wish Celestia, so long as you never refer to me as ‘Prince’ in kind” I fired back with the ghost of a grin. My American pride wouldn’t allow for such exuberant titles.
“I think I can agree to that” She flashed a friendly smile, one that held no traces of hidden or ulterior motives this time. Just pure genuine cordiality. She then gathered an impressive amount of light around her bindi and allowed it to envelope herself before disappearing elsewhere in a magnificent flash.
“Hate to see her go, love to watch her leave” I idly commented to myself at the ‘flashy’ exit.
I headed straight for the sofa bed that first drew my attention when I arrived, the events of the last few hours having taken their toll on me physically and mentally. I set my things aside at one of the desks close by before changing into something more comfy. I flopped onto the cushions and drew the sheets over myself, inhaling and letting out an exhausted sigh.
“Hmm…. Smells like Lavender” Were my last words before I slipped into my nap.
I found myself in a clearing of some sort, walking aimlessly toward some unnamed destination. There was no light source of any kind yet everything was perfectly clear, my feet treading on top of what could have passed for a void. The atmosphere of the place was shrouded with a murky brand of mist that clouded anything and everything in the seemingly empty nothingness. I couldn’t recall when I arrived or what I was aiming to accomplish in the vastness of the dull space.
‘I imagine this is what an entity like Sithis would call home. Neither cozy nor cold, just pure unadulterated emptiness’ I drolly observed, wishing for there to be some life in this drag of a place.
My simple desire was almost casually granted as the clouds of mist in the void space coalesced and condensed, forming solid objects in their place. And so out of nothing sprung life, Pine trees grew tall and swayed in a wind that blew over the newly minted frost capped mountains, fields of flowers in every color and breed bloomed and greedily drunk in the sunlight like parched children. A frigid lake shimmered and surged with activity from freshwater fish migrating to their spawning spots up river. I stopped my meaningless wandering and took in the scene with some indifference, I wasn’t much of a nature person but even I could appreciate the beauty that happened to appear simply because I wished it.
That’s when an epiphany struck me, ‘I’ve achieved lucidity! Oh man I haven’t had one of these dreams in forever!’
I would have chuckled with glee and wrung my hands together menacingly, but I felt that it would have been a bit much. So instead I set about remaking the scenery to my exact specifications. Instead of the Skyrim-esque temperate setting, I switched it to something more exotic and even alien with a snap of my fingers. The pine tree shifted and morphed into massive bio-luminescent flat mushrooms, the flowers more or less remained the same…save for the new glow and the teeth like stamens, the mountains became covered in thick clumps of moss and other more ferocious carnivorous plants that would have made a Venus flytrap shrivel in shame. And the freshwater lake was turned into sparkling sprite soda… because why the heck not?
I was about to change into one of those stereotypically ridiculous looking swim suits and take a dive in the sugary watering hole when my capering was cut short by a suppressed gasp from my right. I turned around to see the Princess of Night (and apparently dreams by extension) gaping at everything in a confused stupor, she was no longer wearing that ball gown, instead donning a kind of official looking uniform. She kept a tight grip on that sword of hers as though she expected something to attack her at any given moment. I observed her with some disdain, with that feeling reflecting in the dreamscape as a distant crack of thunder. To say that I was un-amused to see her intruding in my brain would have been a gross understatement.
‘Figures, the moment I fall asleep is the moment she decides to probe my mind’ I silently griped before deciding to attend to my ‘house guest’.
“Something I can help you with?” I directed toward her with plenty of sarcasm.
She looked perturbed of my awareness of her intrusion, “How can thou be knowledgeable to our presence? We masked ourselves perfectly!”
I gave her a dry look, “This dream is entirely lucid, therefore I am self-aware and will notice anything out of the ordinary. Say… a Lunar Princess against the backdrop of the planet Felucia”
She looked around once more with barely hidden awe, “Is this where thou art from?” She tried touching one of the plants only to flinch back as it snapped at her.
“Don’t touch anything, half of this stuff will try and kill you just for looking at it funny. And to answer your question no I am not, this is just one of my many mental screensavers” I responded before re-shifting the scene into something more conducive to our chat and inevitable follow up storm of questions and misunderstandings.
I flashed away the scenery with a snap of my fingers, something that garnered an accusatory glint in the Princess’s eyes. I kept everything the way I originally found it, a starless void that prompted some existential introspection the more one stayed here. I conjured a short table and some tatami mats before sinking to my knees with a teapot in my hands. I also summoned a couple tea cups before proceeding to fill them.
“Would you care for some tea?” I proffered the steaming cup to her, which she eyed warily.
“Dost thou even knowest our favored beverage flavor?” She inquired skeptically.
“Any flavor you want, this is my special-tea” I responded with a smug grin, I haven’t made a good (awful) pun in a while.
She gave me a strange glance before awkwardly shuffling and sitting on the tatami mat, postured in a cross legged fashion that would have made me groan at the sheer ignorance of Asian tradition, but I forced it down with some delicious tea.
‘Who knew that orange and mint flavored dream tea could be so relaxing?’
She kept that malicious stare of hers going and spoke with harsh honesty.
“We don’t trust you”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear Princess, what you haven’t explained is why you foster such animosity towards me” I gave her a pointed look, this cold aggression towards me was getting old real quick.
“Thou blatantly withholds your inner nature and intentions from us, lack the proper respect to show my sister and I demanding of our station and bend what exists with the same gesture that pestilent lord of chaos uses. It should come as no surprise as to why we regard thee with suspicion” She took the teacup I offered her and crushed it in her magical grip to emphasize her point.
‘That wasn’t very nice’
I finished my cup and with a smack of my lips set it down on the table. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was starting to get on my nerves. I interlocked my fingers on the smooth wooden surface and gave her the most irksome smile I could muster.
“In regard to those three points respectively, perhaps you’ll just have to get to know me the old fashioned way…” That jab got a rise out of her, “I am technically equal to you and your dear sister in the grand pecking order…” That one really made her grit her teeth, “…and perhaps that one gesture just completes the thought? Who’s to say that everything the self-proclaimed lord of chaos did was a bad idea?”
That was the straw that brought the camel low, Luna sprang from her spot and gave me a seething glare that made all her others seem tame in comparison. I thought she was going to break out into the Royal Concordian voice but just barely kept her composure. I probably should have been a little more worried about my well-being, but when someone pushes my buttons so arrogantly like that then it doesn’t matter who you are. You’ll know my disdain and the acidic bite of my words, to say nothing of what I would do if I got physically ornery. Luna drew her sword and leveled it at me; its metal surface gleamed dangerously and just screamed ‘sharp!’ at me.
“Mark our words Zenith, we shall expose thee as the threat thou art. Thou mayest have fooled our sister, but thou shalt not pull the wool over our eyes!”
She then proceeded to slice the table in half as though it were nothing more than wet toilet paper before menacingly advancing on me with murder in her eyes. Little did she know that she was standing right on top my contingency plan. I gazed back at her defiantly before speaking in a soft but self-confident tone.
“I do believe you’ve overstayed your nonexistent welcome here Princess. Perhaps you need a quick time out on the moon again” I punctuated my statement with a snap of my fingers.
The floor she was walking on suddenly opened up and she slid inside the barrel of a massive cannon. Her expression changed from one of intense anger to surprise as she was blindsided by the unexpected move. The candy striped gun whirred and roared to life as it rose out of the pit that I had conjured it from. Its gears ground and gnashed together as it re-calibrated its aim to point straight towards the moon in the background, which I had also taken the liberty to decorate with the mare in the moon symbol, simply to add insult to injury.
The disgruntled Princess was then launched towards her precious namesake without further ado with a loud bang and the extra ‘oomph’ that the shockwave from the recoil offered. Disappearing into the sky with a brief twinkle that Team Rocket could have trademarked by this point. I stood there with a look of casual indifference that lasted all of three seconds before busting out laughing.
“Friendship is magic! BEE-YETCH!” I cackled like a madman before calming down and wiping a few mirthful tears from my face. Deciding that my fun was over with I re-summoned that lake full of sprite soda before back flopping into it, deciding to test the kick theory from Inception for myself.
⁂
I jolted awake with a start, the last rays of light from the sinking sun seeped in through the tower windows, illuminating everything with an orangey tint. Marking the end of the daylight hours and the beginning of the evening. I yawned and stretched in place, debating over whether I should just laze there or get up and do something. It was a pretty tough choice since Twilight’s old bed was really freakin’ comfy, almost as soft as the clouds themselves (And I would know!). In the end, I decided to get off my ass and peruse the selection that the improvised library tower provided. A lot of it was pretty complicated stuff, books with diagrams and charts, equations and formulas, theories and treatises on the inner workings of magic, maps of the local star fields and a whole lot of other complex subjects.
I mean… I wasn’t exactly slow by any measure of the imagination, but I couldn’t quite decipher what ‘A thousand different ways to think about your thinking’ was even supposed to mean. Did it just mean contempla-ception? Or was it an analysis of how to measure and quantify one’s own thoughts and systematically file them away like a think tank? I shook my head exhaustively, hopefully this ‘saving the world’ shtick didn’t involve too much in-depth cramming or everyone here would be royally screwed.
‘Heh, that’s quite literal in my case’ I drily noted, the memories of the last few hours then hammered themselves home with the force of a red hot railroad spike.
‘Doh! How could I forget about my condition!?’ I chastised myself with an epic face palm, the slap echoing across the tower.
I was tempted to pace back and forth before sternly reminding myself that I wasn’t nearly as neurotic as the tower’s last inhabitant.
‘Okay Zenith, cope how you know best…with rationalizing! Just because you’re a Trifect does not make you a Gary Stu by default. The true symptoms of becoming a Gary Stu involve a multitude of things… mindless love and adoration from everyone you meet for instance! So far I can say with certainty that Luna definitely hates my guts and Daring probably feels something similar’ I paused in my musings, the thought of Daring struck a sensitive chord in my normally guarded heart.
‘Oh yea… Daring hates me too’ I thought with crestfallen slouch of my shoulders. That was one more thing I had to reconcile in the not so distant future. Not Luna though… nuts to Luna for all I cared.
‘Right, so that’s a definite check against Gary Stuification in my favor. A Stu wouldn’t really snark nearly as much as I do, with them preferring to act and then express how cool they were. While I just tend to just point out how uncool others can be and encourage them to work on their faults’ I paused in my thinking, I wasn’t exactly a shining example of flawless perfection myself. Don’t want to fall into the trap of hypocritical standards do I?
‘A dead giveaway for a Stu would be having a portable garage full of cool guns, cars, swords, and the occasional stripper or two. All I got was backpack full of my stuff and a Tantō that seems to escape most people’s notice… and is NOT a miniature Katana!’ I’d like to see someone stealthily sneak a sheathed Katana past anyone with functioning eyes.
‘Most Gary Stu’s also have an innate knowledge of their powers preprogrammed, as if they’ve always been the greatest thing since sliced bread. I didn’t even know I had wings attached to my shoulders until… Crystal pointed them out to me’
I face palmed once again, I need to write a letter to Crystal before I get lost in all the craziness that life is throwing my way! I scurried over to one of the many desks that occupied that tower and pulled out a blank scrap of parchment. I chose to forgo the quill and ink because it was just too rudimentary for my tastes, instead I fished a pen out of my backpack and clicked it before sitting down to write.
‘Wow, where should I even begin?’ I decided the beginning would be the best, and then carefully word the more recent happenings so as to keep her guessing. The last thing I want is for Crystal to prostrate herself before me the next time I see her.
Dearest Crystal
It’s only been a short time since we last spoke, but already so much has changed since then. My companion Daring and I traveled to the city of Concordia on one of those airships you told me about, and boy was that something. Almost as cathartic as flying under my own power! We arrived at the incredibly lively city and docked alongside one of their many loading docks. After expediently taking care of the paperwork involved, Daring left me to my own devices while she spoke with her superiors within the Institute of Archeology regarding the success of her retrieval mission. Oh right, I forgot to tell you last time that I retrieved that Chalice along with Daring Do, whom Cadence paired me with. You might have heard of her actually, she has this really popular series of adventure novels detailing her journeys; you should give them a read sometime. So back to where I left off, once Daring and I parted ways for the night, I decided to see more of the capital city for myself. It’s quite nice actually, very classy districts all around, although the people can get a bit snooty at times. I attended a Jazz restaurant and was pretty much pressganged into giving them a cabaret that they’ll be talking about for days. I was found interesting enough to attract the personal attention of a well-known Cellist named Octavia who invited me back to her place to discuss more about music. Now before your presumptuous motherly instincts kick in, we didn’t do anything untoward with each other. That would have been unbefitting of a gentleman like myself and a lady of her standing. I spent the night there and some of the early morning hours before Daring tracked me down. Needless to say, she assumed some unscrupulous things of me and gave me the passive aggressive distant treatment after she had informed me that the Royal Sovereigns of all Arcania had summoned me. It’s seems as if I have a penchant for involuntarily meeting with royalty no? I’m not quite free to write down what we discussed, but suffice it to say that they will need me again for a doubtlessly monumental task. I can only hope that I’m up to the challenge required of me. As always you shall be in my thoughts.
Sincerely yours
Zenith
Satisfied with my message, I rolled up the parchment into a scroll and wrapped it with some ribbon that I found in one of the drawers. I contemplated just how I was going to get it sent; I doubted that the rail lines leading to the Krystal Kingdom would be used until they repaired the damage that I had accidentally caused. Sending some poor messenger Valkyrian sap to fly all the way there just to save on time would have been needlessly cruel. And unless Cadence was feeling charitable enough to allow me to transmit the message with her Dragon fire connection with Celestia, then I was short of viable options to use.
‘Bah! I’ll just ask. It’s not like they can outright deny a fellow Trifect the use of their texting contrivances right?’ I set out right away, descending the many steps leading down from Twilight’s tower.
Once I reach the bottom however, I noticed a huge gap in my itinerary plans. I had no way to navigate the maze of twists and turns that Concordia Castle’s interior was composed of. Having paid little to no attention when the Princess was escorting me to the tower. I silently cursed the lack of any nearby directories in the bowels of the elephantine Royal palace.
It was then that a strange bout of inspiration struck me; I closed my eyes and recalled the memory of Celestia’s warm and amiable essence, latching on to it and imagining it guiding my steps towards her whereabouts. My darkened vision was then lit up by a ghostly string of bright ethereal energy that could have only belonged to Celestia, I followed the trail, eyes still closed as I traversed the many hallways and corridors of the palace. While my newfound tracking ability pointed me towards the Princess, it didn’t quite point out the obstacles that were in the way, evidenced by my bumping into random objects like pillars and old suits of armor on display. Or those could have been Royal guards who were too nonplussed to visibly react to the moron meandering around with his eyes shut and a scroll in his hands… goodness they were quiet.
Eventually my wandering lead me to the stair steps of what I assumed was Celestia’s personal tower. Sighing to myself over the lack of elevators in this place, I grudgingly ascended them two at a time and it still took me a few minutes to scale the stairs all the way up. I happened across another duo of guards policing the entrance to her Royal Majesties quarters who immediately crossed their spears together to deny me entrance.
“Look gentleman, I know how seriously you take your jobs and I can respect that. But can you confirm that I wasn’t expected in any way shape or form before restricting me access so callously?” They remained silent despite my plea.
“Guys, could you at least do me the small favor of knocking and letting her know that I would speak with her? I’m sure she told you to possibly expect me right?” Again they kept silent; it was like with the Citadel guards all over again.
I groaned in frustration before unleashing my whiny voice, and you do not want to hear what my whiny voice sounds like. It’s the perfect and profane combination of heart wrenching squeaky and tear your eardrums out scratchy. I had practically mastered it by emulating all the annoying people I’ve ever met and joining together the worst of their voices in unholy matrimony. Both Rarity and Harley Quinn could learn a few lessons themselves from this Surly Sensei.
“Celestiaaa!!! Your guards are being DICKHEADS!” I decided to use the jerky kind of whiny persuasion for these two tools.
I heard the metal in their gauntlets scrape together as they clenched their spears with barely restrained fury. Whether at my insult or my continued insistence on seeing their liege I couldn’t tell, probably both. They looked close to breaking their legendary stoicism just to clobber me when the door was magicked open by Celestia’s familiar magical aura. I smugly advanced by the guards who begrudgingly uncrossed their weapons to allow me passage.
I came across the Princess lounging across one of those nice recliners that you would find in a psychiatrist’s office. Occupying herself with various manuscripts and other papers that needed the Royal mandate imprinted on them. I suppose even in the evening the Princess was a busy woman.
“Yes Zenith?” She asked, never taking her eyes off of the paperwork.
“Good evening Celestia, I was wondering if I could use your Dragonfire connection with Cadence so I could ask her to pass on a message to one of her subjects”
At this did she momentarily glance up from her work, “What kind of message and to whom?”
“The harmless kind, and the person who discovered me and took me in when I arrived here; a kindly woman named Crystal Clear”
“I suppose that can be arranged, the jar for the Krystal Kingdom is the one with the magenta flame in the cupboard over there” She directed with the feathered end of her quill.
‘Geez, I need to show her the wonders of having a simple ballpoint pen sometime’ I thought as I opened the cabinet she spoke of.
Inside was a menagerie of jars, each one with a different flame and destination marked on it. I sifted through the collection till I found the one I was looking for. I returned to Celestia for further instruction.
“You have the jar? Good, now all you have to do is pop the lid and ignite the item that you wish to send”
“I still find it weird that burning your messages delivers them at the same time” I remarked with some confusion.
She gave a slight chuckle in return, “It doesn’t actually incinerate the letter Zenith, it merely converts it into intangible information to be reconstituted at the other end”
“Magic is truly a wonderful thing” I replied with a mix of sincerity and humor.
“It certainly can be, yes. Do you have different magic where you come from?” She curiously inquired.
“Honestly you highness? None whatsoever, what we call magic back home is either sleight of hand or another form of skillful illusion” My response gained her full attention as she set her papers on the round table beside her.
“How can that be? Magic exists in everything! Everything from the mightiest mountains to even the lowliest bits of gravel have magic in them! Life itself could not be sustained without the nurturing hand of magic” She exclaimed in confusion, her normally flawless expression sullied with an intense frown.
“It just does alright? Magic is only a concept back in the states, anyone who believes otherwise is regarded as being either incredibly naïve or superstitious by the majority of rationally thinking people” I calmly explained.
“But how have your people found their way in harmony? Who maintains the weather patterns or ushers in the changing of the seasons? The flora and the fauna would simply subsist by themselves?” She paused as the final realization hit her, “Who raises the Sun and Moon?”
‘Goodness, maybe Twilight got some of her intensely inquisitive nature from her mentor’
“In order: they haven’t achieved much in the way of Harmony, the weather and seasons change on their own accord, yes they do, and no one. Some people satirically say that they rise and fall by the grace of God” I answered for her.
“Is this God your deity?” She asked offhandedly, momentarily catching me off guard.
“Depends on who you ask, people back home don’t exactly follow a single faith in unison” I deflected, this question always made me uncomfortable.
“But I ask if this God is your God” She pressed.
“Yes Celestia, the Creator is my God” I conceded.
“So you are a man of faith then” She spoke more to herself than to me.
“Indeed I am. What of it?” I responded defensively.
“I’m just getting to know you better Zenith, is that a crime?” She replied with what she thought was a disarming smile. What it really said to me was that she’d file that fact away for later, something I wouldn’t forget easily. I crossed my arms in vexation before replying.
“If it was, the Spanish inquisition would be on your case post haste and you’d never see it coming. May I use the Dragon fire now?”
“Of course Zenith, you don’t have to ask you know” She spoke, showing minimal bemusement to my misdirecting statement.
“Just being courteous”
I attached a quick note politely asking Cadence to pass on this message to my previous caretaker before setting the message alight. It burned and cremated itself before turning into a wisp of smoke that spirited out the window by an unseen gale. I took a few seconds to marvel at the sight before turning to egress from the room.
“Leaving so soon Zenith?” The Princess expressed with faux indignation at my impromptu departure.
“Well you looked kinda busy, so I thought I’d leave you be once I finished my little errand” I slowly explained, not expecting this kind of theatrics to come from the millennia old monarch this late in the evening.
“Hrumph! Typical man, using a woman up and then abandoning her without so much as a thank you!”
I decided to play along for the helluva it. Even if I was knowingly feeding her inner troll.
“I thought my gratitude was already implied? Perhaps I should run out to retrieve her Royal Highness some Sunflowers and a box of chocolates as a way to formally apologize for my atrocious behavior?”
Her eyes actually lit up in giddy anticipation, “That’s a splendid idea! Here’s your Royal stipend for the day” She lackadaisically tossed a hefty bag full of bits my way using her magic before delivering her (admittedly expected) corollary, “Do be a dear and pick up some Cherry Chiffon cake from Sweet Tooth’s Confectionery as well would you?” She subtly commanded with a gentle smile.
‘Figures’ I internally grumbled.
I opened my mouth to voice another quip when my ears picked up on the sound of someone storming up the stairs. I’ll give you one good guess as to who that was. Thinking quickly, I scanned the room for an exit strategy and found it fast. Celestia’s tower had a balcony overlook perfect for someone in my current predicament.
“It would be my pleasure Celestia, in fact I’ll get on that right away!”
I sprinted across the room and flung open the doors to the balcony before proceeding to toss myself over the edge. It wasn’t as dramatic as say… defenestrating myself out one of the windows instead. But I heard that shit actually hurts, so I smartly refrained from doing so. I brought out my crimson wings and turned my free fall into a steep glide. Even with the shrill rush of the wind shearing past me as I dove, I could still clearly hear the stentorian voice of the Lunar Princess expressing her monumental discontent.
“WHERE IS HE CELESTIA!? WE SHALT FLAY HIM ALIVE AND MOUNT HIS WRETCHED HIDE ON OUR WALL!”
‘She certainly sounds angry, lucky I made my escape when I did. Hope Celestia can successfully rein in her sister’s temper or she won’t be getting any cake from me!’
I swooped down to the Palace gardens below, using the powerful beats of my wings to slow my descent until I landed softly on the verdant grass. Using the landmarks I had made note of when Daring led me through here, I backtracked back to the gates where I had first entered the castle property. One of the gate guards spotted my approach and took the courtesy of lowering the drawbridge for me without any inquiries as to my business leaving. I supposed they only needed clearance for those people entering the grounds rather than exiting. I crossed the bridge and politely asked one of the standing guards where I could find the so called ‘Sweet Tooth’s confectionery’ and that I was on an important errand. To my minor astonishment he gave me the full and comprehensive list of directions before chuckling to himself afterwards, probably knowing his liege’s propensity for sweets and the like.
So apparently this frequented confectioner’s was located just at the edges of the capital district, or as it was officially named, the Vertex district. Despite the fact that the Sun had fully sunk beneath the horizon, there were still plenty of people out and about. Going about their various affairs with a certain grace that the citizen’s here aspired to project themselves with. Their gait was preplanned and measured to the point where you could set your clocks by it, the majority held their heads high (but not so high as to appear pompous), and from what scant conversation I could pick up on; they also considered themselves to be model citizens vital to the functioning of society at large. A bit arrogant maybe, but I had no doubts as to their sizable influence on the Arcanian economy in general.
While I walked through and around the gaggles of people, I surreptitiously weighed and measured the bag of bits that Celestia saw fit to bestow upon me. I kept it clutched close to my chest on the off chance that there were cutpurses in the city, I may have felt a bit miserly but it was better to be safe than incidentally penniless (or bit less I suppose). The Solar Princess did not skimp when it came to her comfort foods, there were easily enough coins in here for me to buy half of Sweet Tooth’s shop and I haven’t even seen the place yet!
I eventually found my way there when I spotted the large line of people standing outside the confectionery doors. I grumbled to myself even though I was half expecting this kind of lineup. Within fifteen agonizing minutes of waiting in line and tactfully deflecting my fellow person’s attempts at small talk, I had finally progressed passed the doors. Sweet Tooth’s confectionery’s layout reminded me of a fusion of See’s candies and an old fashioned ice cream parlor with white and black tiling on the floors and a vast selection of colorful candies, pastries, and of course… delectable cakes behind chilled glass. I had to resist drooling a little at the sight of this beautiful display of sugar and focus on the task at hand.
‘Okay so I have a free hand with choosing chocolates, but I need to grab the Cherry Chiffon cake in particular first’
“Welcome to Sweet Tooth’s Confectionery, how might I service you today?” An attendant and overall cheerful looking girl asked of me. She was wearing the full candy makers’ getup along with a boater for a hat, the hat alone made my night more interesting.
“A Cherry Chiffon cake and a box of your finest chocolates if you would”
“A slice or the package deal?”
“The whole cake please” I specified.
She flashed me a coy smile, and for some reason the outfit she was wearing only made it more appealing to my grand befuddlement.
“Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Pardon?” I wasn’t expecting her to ask that.
“Guys don’t come in here and order a whole cake and a box of chocolates for themselves silly! So who’s the golden gal?” She leaned towards me as though she was eager to hear some juicy secret.
“She’s… golden alright. But you’ve got me all wrong. I’m running an errand for her, not lavishing her with saccharine gifts to express some kind of adoration”
“Sure you are!” She cheerfully remarked, clearly not buying it despite my total insistence of the truth. She then gathered the products I had requested while keeping that knowing smile of hers plastered on her face.
I shrugged to myself with indifference while the presumptuous confectioner rung me up. The total cost was only thirty five bits, twenty for the cake and fifteen for the chocolates since it was their supreme selection. I would have considered it pricey were it not for the fact that I was currently rolling in the dough. I debated with myself over whether that was a pun since this store wasn’t a bakery but I dismissed that tangent in favor of more pressing matters. Like whom the original Sweet Tooth person was. From what the girl at the counter told me, Sweet Tooth’s was one of the first confectioner establishments in Concordia and one of the best, even the Princesses were known to frequent the place for all their sugary requirements. Sweet Tooth himself was appointed chief confectioner to the Royal Palace in his lifetime, an impressive career indeed for someone so lanky looking in their portrait. Come to think of it… this Sweet Tooth has suspiciously orange looking hair.
‘Maybe he’s Carrot Cake’s great ancestor or something’
I set out with my newly acquired aliments in search of a florist. I wasn’t quite expecting to find one open in the early hours of the night, but sure enough I found a stand with a rather bored looking vendor tending to the cut flowers in order to keep them fresh. This vendor deviated from the normal populace in the fact that she was an agrarian. She looked quite surprised to have a customer so late in the evening, but was more than happy to accommodate me with a nice bouquet of Sunflowers. Since I had accomplished all of my objectives, I debated over immediately returning to the castle or shading out my inevitable confrontation with Luna. In the end I picked returning to the palace since I currently had no way of providing refrigeration for the cake and chocolates.
I trudged past the many well-dressed natives and ignored their loudly voiced opinions against my simple attire of jeans and a T-shirt, criticisms such as ‘tasteless’ and ‘gauche’ aren’t really something that gets to me. It’s called casual wear for a reason; these judgmental, ostentatious, top hat wearing jackholes wouldn’t know the difference since they were born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Although I had a strange feeling that the next time I would be doing errands on these streets I wouldn’t be so under-dressed for the occasion.
I shifted the bundle of offerings in my arms as I neared the drawbridge leading back into the castle grounds. My possessions seemed to draw the attention of quite a few of the more casual guards patrolling the walls above who whispered among themselves and chuckled, I picked up on the words ‘Royal stooge’ and growled to myself at the jab. I was no one’s lackey (especially not Royalty!) and they would come to regret the next time they dared assume such a thing of me. I’m guessing that Celestia had me cleared with the gate defenders because they lowered the drawbridge without any hassle on my end. I nodded to myself at the convenience and decided to make use of my wings to skip having to scale up the stairs to the Sun monarch’s room all over again.
I found the Princess waiting for me with a neutral expression on her face as she sat in an elegant looking chair by her desk. I assumed that Luna had explained in detail to her sister exactly what she thought of me. I used my newfound ability to scan for her in the shadows in case she felt like eavesdropping on the ensuing conversation, finding nothing to indicate her presence immediately nearby I addressed the contemplative looking Princess.
“I got what you wanted Celestia, and made good time too!” I was always the efficient type.
“Set them aside for now Zenith. We need to talk” Her tone was decidedly serious.
‘Gah! The four words that every red blooded male hates hearing’
“What is there to discuss?” I wasn’t quite obfuscating ignorance since Luna could have said any number of things to get me on her sister’s bad side.
“Shortly after you left, my sister brought to my attention some observations she had made about you”
“You mean the time she was intruding on my dreams earlier?” I sarcastically stated with a raised brow.
“I am aware of my sister’s inability to trust that which she deems suspicious, your resilience against auric discernment spells is rather curious. There are very few beings capable of resisting magic of my sister and I’s magnitude”
“Yeah, Cadence tried scanning me to check if I was something called a changeling and seemed to be surprised by something. I’m guessing that was it”
She nodded in affirmation, “Indeed it was. Since you were impervious to auric spells, Luna decided to better gauge your character by observing your dreams”
“I won’t abide by people who dig around in my head without my approval your highness, regardless of who they are” My tone warned against further trespasses in my psyche.
She shook her head, “My sister’s acts are of her own accord and I do not condone them in the slightest. I believe in giving a person the benefit of the doubt before judging them so resolutely. It’s a good thing you left when you did, I only managed to persuade her not to eviscerate you the next she saw of you. Especially for that last stunt you pulled on her”
The way she put it was probably meant to make me feel guilty about it. But something in her admonishing tone was enough to dissuade me from feeling faultless.
“And I thank you for that” I scratched the back of my head timidly, “I guess launching Luna into a representation of her moon with an Über cannon might have been a bit much huh?”
She momentarily dropped her serious demeanor to allow for a brief giggle, “That was just cruel of you! Don’t you know she abhors being reminded of that particular tidbit of her past?”
“Can you blame me? She was this close to cutting me to ribbons in my own dream! You don’t just intrude in a man’s private dojo and not expect him to open up a can of whoop-ass on you”
“Be that as it may, Luna will only give you a chance if one of us is allowed to see into your mind so that we may better understand your heart. She does not feel at ease around someone who could be an eldritch horror for all we can tell” She concluded with a short titter, obviously not meaning it literally. Although with the subject at hand, she may not have been that far off. As I made clear with my next statement.
“Besides, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of trusting someone the normal way?”
“Yes it does, but my sister and I have lived long enough that we prefer to err on the side of caution. Your cooperation will also serve to propagate the trust that I have given you” She emphasized the last sentence deliberately, guilt tripping me into agreeing I suppose.
“Additionally it will also get Luna off of your case, and allow me to get to enjoying those lovely looking treats you’ve so gallantly retrieved for me” She eyed them with an almost longing expression.
I sighed in resignation, “Fine… but just you. Luna lost the privilege of rummaging through my brain when she ruined my dreamscape montage with her bellicose presence”
“Then let us begin” She directed me to her recliner, I laid back in comfort as the soft leather enveloped my form. Once I felt adequately settled in, I asked my question as I shut my eyes.
“So how will this play out?”
“Just relax and empty your mind of anything that whittles away at your sense of inner peace”
“I don’t know Celestia… there’s quite a bit of that”
“Then focus on something tranquil instead, calm the storm in your mind. The less turbulent your thoughts, the easier this will be for the both of us”
I did as she asked, closing my senses to the world. Not paying any attention to the dim lighting of the room, not hearing my breathing as my lungs contracted and expanded with every breath, not allowing the intense softness of the leather recliner to impede my progress, not letting the pleasant aromatic perfume that the Sun Princess wore suffuse through my nostrils, and not feeling the thrumming energy that built up by my side. What I did feel however what a faint vacuuming sensation at the back of my mind that grew stronger with every passing second. Eventually it got so strong that all of my senses were cut off in their entirety, I opened my eyes to see nothing at all whatsoever. Indeed, I had returned to that formless void with infinite possibilities.
‘Well… better spruce up the place in anticipation for the latest visitor in my head’
I decided to go with the hotel entrance look, taking a page from the Bellagio’s front lobby with the coffered roof and an upside down flower garden showcasing a spectrum of various colors. Unbidden, I heard a faint song being played in the background that served to foreshadow the absolute absurdities to follow. Smiling to myself at my inner creativity, I went ‘backstage’ to make a few adjustments before lying back on a conjured lounge chair with a tall glass of virgin mimosa. Satisfied with the presentation of the open house, I went to take a sip of my newly created drink.
‘Matrix was right; this does taste like the real deal!’
Soon enough, swirls of bright light coalesced in the center of the lobby and everyone’s favorite Sovereign of the Sun showed up in that bright flash that she was iconic for. She observed the deceptively tidy entrance lobby with a hint of caution, like she was expecting a nasty surprise to rear its ugly head at any moment. I couldn’t blame her since she was in for a few surprises, although calling them nasty would be a stretch. I gave her a friendly wave and beckoned her closer.
“Heyo Celestia! Welcome to the beautiful Château Zenith! Conveniently located inside my own cranium!” I greeted her in my best impersonation of Steve from Borderlands.
“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting anything so…organized” She said mostly to herself. I felt kind of insulted by that to be perfectly honest.
I rolled my eyes as I got off the lounger, “I intend to make this process as straightforward as possible, but allow me to lay down some ground rules before we begin” I held up a finger, “First and foremost, this is my mind that we’re exploring here. So I need you to bear in mind that not everything you see can be easily explained, not even by myself”
I held up a second finger, “Rule number two is a follow up of the first, I will answer what I can and only if I feel comfortable doing so”
“As long as I do not see the need to press for more, I can agree to that” She interposed, likely needing to insert some of her own authority so as not to be completely subject to my whims.
I held up the third appendage, “Rule number three is very important, do NOT stray from my side. There’s a lot of hidden nasties in my head that would like nothing more than to find and erase you. Think of the relation between an antibody and a microbe” I also needed to keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t do any unsanctioned snooping.
“Your mind is very well fortified for someone so young, how did you achieve this level of defense?” The Princess inquired with a curious look in her eye.
“I know my mind better than you’d think your highness. Being more on the introspective side of things only strengthened the bulwark” I explained as I led her to the ‘elevator’ and pressed the button, the wait not taking long since it was only a visual metaphor.
We got into the compartment that wasn’t playing any cheesy elevator music since I thought of myself as being more refined than that. The panel had a large number of ‘floor’ buttons that each represented a part of my head. Things like memories, opinions, beliefs, and etcetera were just the push of a button away. I decided to be a gentleman and ask where the sovereign wanted to go first.
“Let’s start with your memories first, I wish to see what kind of world you originated from”
“Okay, but fair word of warning. My memories can be a bit of a mess, there are also some things that I have exiled to the back of my mind on purpose”
“And why would you feel the need to do so?”
“There are just some things that I’d like to remain buried” I expressed with detachment, not wanting to explain any further.
I pressed the button for the memory floor and built up my stoic countenance. The elevator dinged and opened its doors to reveal what could only have been described as organized chaos. Or as I liked to call it, Bizarrchitecture. Non-Euclidean shapes were abound as a labyrinth of staircases zigged and zagged between corresponding memories, each locked behind doors that opened like the irises of a Stargate with metallic overlapping blades that closed in each other. Ladders and pillars running parallel and perpendicular to what constituted the ground provided additional nuances to an already complicated setting. The Princess standing next to me looked somewhat discouraged by the sight, not that I intentionally designed it that way or anything.
“So which memory would you like to view first? I’m sure my early adolescence is somewhere in this maze of the reminiscence” The Princess stood there in stunned silence at the spectacle before slowly speaking.
“In all my years I’ve never seen anything this convoluted in scope. No other individual save for Discord has anything so jumbled and disorientating to look at”
“Well it’s a good thing we’ve got a virtually indefinite amount of time to sort it out then hmm?”
Celestia’s last comment made me internally scoff. Discord would probably have added something juvenile like checkered porpoises and flying pigs. I may be a strange individual, but I usually get straight to the point when I want to make a statement. No lollygagging or trifling around is my modus operandi.
“How do you know that we are not limited by conventional conceptions of time?” She dubiously asked.
“Simple, I’ve seen Inception”
And that was the only answer she was going to get from me as I enthusiastically set off to choose a door at random. I’ve never been this hands on with my own brain before after all. I walked downside up one of the stairs that led to a door called ‘Christmas Mornings’ before knocking on the iris of the door. It opened slowly as the light poured out from the expanding opening and into my eyes, bringing with it the memories of my favorite Christmases. It also included every sense to go along with it, the smell of the gingerbread men and houses that I would meticulously decorate before devouring in one fell swoop as a child, the laughter of my grandparents who would come to visit from across the sea in my later years, and of course the joy I felt from when I opened presents that had something awesome in them or even the disappointment that sunk into my very being when it turned out to be something lame like clothes that were a size too big (My grandparents said it was so I could grow into them, even though I cannot recall ever having worn them despite doing so). But the most powerful feeling of all was the love that permeated the atmosphere, still strong despite being only a memory. The flow of imagery dissipated after a while, leaving a faintly evocative touch upon my heart as it faded away behind the closing iris. Were it not for the intense stoicism I had screened myself with earlier, I’m sure I would have been shedding tears of nostalgia.
“So your people celebrate this ‘Christmas’ in place of our Hearth’s Warming” Celestia noted beside me, having experienced the same memory I did. Her eyes were even misty with the heartfelt emotions that initially belonged to me.
“Partially correct, only traditional American’s call it Christmas though. The politicians felt it was more inclusive to name it ‘The Holidays’ instead” I replied with another roll of my eyes, politics always did strike a negative chord with me.
“How can you re-experience such profound and joyful emotions and yet remain so apathetic?” Celestia exclaimed with confusion, temporarily ignoring the revelation of my nationality prior to arriving in Arcania.
“They’re memories Celestia, what I felt then has no relevance on how I feel here and now” I left her to mull on that while I walked a ground paralleled corkscrew staircase to the next door.
‘Good thing gravity has no meaning here’ To my relief, my inner thoughts were not expressed aloud in the chamber of my own mind. Although the walls did warp in color a bit in response, so it was not without effect.
The following door was labeled with an acronym ‘PTDND’ and made me widen my eyes in response. I did NOT want anyone to see what was behind those doors if I had anything to say about it.
“What’s behind this one I wonder?” As if on cue, Celestia reached out to touch and activate it. I swiftly conjured an impressive series of locks and chains that barred her access and made a loud series of thuds as they dropped in place.
“That’s off limits Princess!” I grabbed her arm and forced it down to her side again.
“Is there something you do not wish me to see in there?” She asked with a suspicious edge in her voice.
“Do you know what that stands for?” I pointed to the letters above the door and she shook her head in response.
“Private Thoughts, DO NOT DISTURB. You may have been around for a very long time Princess, but without a doubt there are some things behind that door that will leave a permanent scar upon your very soul! Next door now!”
I wandered off in a huff, smarting at how close I came to being in deep water. There were more than a few skeletons in that closet, and one of them revealed that I had foreknowledge of this place. Even if it was indirect in its nature, that would have raised more questions than I would have liked to answer. Plus I really did not want to mar the fragile relationship that Celestia and I had only just established. Not to mention that it contained all of my more prurient thoughts too, and no one save for me should have that in their head.
The next door was a little more innocent, ‘Disneyland Magic’ and prompted a raised brow from a relatively miffed looking Princess.
“You told me that you did not possess any magic back home”
“We don’t, but that doesn’t mean that the concept of magic doesn’t exist there. And that a certain business company hasn’t strived to achieve the next best thing in its place” I tapped on the door to show her what I meant.
This time the memories were of rollercoasters and theme parks, cotton candy and glowing spinners, those mickey eared hats that every young child loved to wear, water rides and animatronics of various characters, and of course the fireworks that occurred every night the park was in operation. To this day, the memory of riding Space Mountain and Star Tours for the first time still brought a smile to my face, as evidenced by the small grin to grace my features as the memories gradually ended.
“That was certainly…something” The Princess spouted with uncertainty, “Do other sentient creatures inhabit your world as well?” She asked in succession, probably in response to the speaking machinery.
“Nah, those are just robots” I waved off her bemusement before searching for a door that would better explain technology to her. I found it in the form of a conveniently named ‘Wonders of the modern world’ portal.
“Ready to have your mind blown?” I asked her with a cheeky simper, with her cautiously nodding in return. She’d need to brace herself for the incoming whirlwind of information.
This door was like all of the modern marvels episodes all wrapped up into one. Showcasing all the various things that I took for granted (Thank the Lord I still have my laptop and IPod!) before being raptured over into this world. Everything from dragsters to space shuttles buzzed by in a flurry of information that would have made me dizzy if this wasn’t my own head. Memories of common things like automobiles and airplanes that ferried us around in bulk from anywhere to the grocers to across the planet in only a matter of mere hours sped through my recollection like greased lightning.
Spectacles such as laser lights and tesla coils dazzled and amused people like me the world over. The wonders of the information superhighway (No one calls it that!) allowing limitless knowledge to accessed with such a simple notion as the push of a button. Social networks and multimedia devices that stole the attention spans of millions. Video games were my particular vice; I’d spend hours at a time with my gaming sessions. Endlessly accomplishing intangible deeds all from the comfort of my deskchair.
To my dismay, it also reviewed a lot of military technology as well, and I watched a lot of Military channel in my free time. Attack helicopter gunships and main battle tanks fired their lethal payloads at unseen targets, entire strips of land being turned into slag by strafing runs, and how else to finish off a montage of destruction than with the mushroom cloud from a thermonuclear explosion? It was almost as if I subconsciously wanted my mental passenger to know how just far my people have advanced in terms of lethality. It was appallingly obvious that our technology had exceeded our humanity indeed.
As the stream of information ended I stood solemnly in silence with the Princess actually panting in exertion at absorbing all of that data. When she sufficiently recovered, she gave me a fearful gaze and hesitantly made her inquiry.
“What was all that? It was so much to comprehend; I can barely make heads or tails of it”
“That dear Princess, is the double edged sword of modern technology, knowledge that could shake this world to its very foundations. Something I hope you can keep between us… unless the most dire of circumstances presents itself and requires the knowledge I have locked within”
“Some of those machinations looked familiar, like incredibly advanced versions of the marvels that they’re pioneering in Steelhatten”
‘Is that this world’s variation of Manhattan? How quaint’
“Hmm… you’ll have to tell me more about that sometime” I remarked as an afterthought. Celestia continued on as if she hadn’t heard me.
“… others were so terrible, an explosive device that could turn entire cities into smoldering wastelands? How monstrous a world you must live in, to know that your very civilization could be destroyed in nothing more than a flash of light and a wave of heat. And by using the same process as the one that fuels my precious Sun”
She spitefully finished as she leveled her sight at me, she looked angry… though not with me, more so at the idea that people could create such horrific things in the first place. I was honestly expecting this and responded in kind.
“You’re not gonna give me the whole, your people are monsters outlook for inventing weapons of mass destruction are you? Have you just decided to ignore everything else? The advances in medicine that allow us to render entire diseases as things of the past? To mend broken bones without needing to slice a patient open? The capacity for bringing humanitarian aid to anywhere where it’s needed? The augmentation of agriculture that lets us sustain countless billions of people?” She still looked unconvinced, even if her eyes widened at the billions fact. So I resumed with my reasoning.
“You take the good with the bad dear Princess, as with everything else in life. Yes, my people are capable of making great evils… but they are equally capable of bringing great good into the world as well. If that were untrue, we would have wiped ourselves of the face of our planet eons ago”
My words seemed to have a perspicacious effect on her as her hard stare softened and her eyes lowered in pensive meditation. She looked back up at me with a somber expression, the youthful vigor in her eyes had depleted to the point where she looked a lot older than her immortal visage disclosed. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes before emptying her thoughts.
“Perhaps I have been too quick to judge, I like to think that with my age has come sufficient wisdom to see existence as it truly is. But within moments of realizing that reality is a good deal larger that I believed it to be, I became reactionary in my conduct and in doing so, disgraced the good esteem of the position I uphold”
She opened her eyes again and looked at me with a more humorous gleam in them, “It’s a good thing you had decided to reveal all of this to me. I don’t know how my dear sister would have reacted to such things; simple things like toasters frighten her thoroughly. The first week of her return, she blasted a gaping hole in the Royal kitchen!” She brightened up the surroundings with her melodious laugh.
I chuckled despite myself, recalling a rather adorable picture of a toaster Luna, “There’s a funny image, dour Luna shrieking at the toaster popping up bread and blasting it to kingdom come”
“So do you wish to see more? We’ve barely scratched the surface of who I am and everything is remarkably more tame in comparison to what you’ve just experienced” She didn’t even consider it before answering.
“Perhaps another time, I’ve seen enough to know you aren’t anything like Luna fears you to be. A great deal different than anyone else on this Earth, but a good person at heart”
“And how exactly do you know that with certainty? I haven’t shown you everything you need to see to make that judgment for yourself” I skeptically ejected.
She gave me that same friendly smile from earlier, “You don’t need to. I can see it in your eyes” With that her bindi lit up and I felt everything around me disperse like fog in the warming rays of the Sun.
I was back in Celestia’s personal chambers in the same exact spot as I had ‘left’ it, although I discovered some new additions on my person; such as Celestia’s incredibly soft hands on my forehead. It was kind of an awkward situation for me, but I did my best not to show it. I proactively cleared my throat to get her attention since her eyes were still shut in concentration.
“You can let go now your Highness, my forehead isn’t really in need of a massage”
She did so slowly, as though cancelling her mind delving spell was a delicate process. The golden glow of her bindi died down to nothing, signaling that her spell was finished. She inhaled deeply before exhaling in a very yoga like state of entrancement. She opened her eyes and looked down at me with that same amicable smile.
“I trust that our business here is concluded?” I asked as I bent forward in my seat to stretch my back.
“Indeed it is” She replied as she rose from my side, “I suggest getting a good night’s rest Zenith, for I suspect you will have a long day ahead of you tomorrow”
“I hope you don’t mean that too literally. What about Luna?” She still harbored some resentment towards me after all.
“Leave her to me Zenith. I’ll get her to relent from her aggressive stance towards you”
“I am most grateful your Highness, I’ll leave you to your treats then” I said as I exited the room.
And with that I walked to her balcony, spread my wings, and took flight. Heading back to my tower loft, a few of the guards patrolling the skies took notice of me but backed down from any defensive action when they verified my identity. I touched down on my balcony next to the planters and made headway to the lovely sofa bed that smelled like its previous occupant. Plopping down with tired sigh, I pondered about the things that would happen tomorrow, or if Luna would feel brave enough to invade my dreams a second time. I casually dismissed the notion before clearing my mind of any other worries and letting the tender embrace of sleep claim me once more.
My awakening was brought on by a particularly bright beam of Sunlight forcing its way past my eyelids and into my retinas, burning a yellowish afterimage into my mind. I groaned in discomfort and covered my face with one of the round pillows that smelled faintly of lavender. Despite my uninterrupted and strangely dreamless sleep, I still didn’t feel like getting up from that insanely comfortable bed. I was feeling content to lay there and catch some extra Z’s when there was a series of knocks on the door that was not five feet away.
I let out a small whine of frustration before painstakingly dragging myself out of the bed and rolling onto the floor in a jumbled heap. I may have been an early riser when I felt like it, but last night’s activities left me with the desire to sleep in a couple extra hours. The persistent rapping on the door encouraged me to stop sulking on the ground and quicken my pace in answering it.
‘Why would anyone rouse me at this horrific hour? It’s barely six o’ clock!’ I mentally grumbled while fumbling with the doorknob, slowly opening it to glare at whoever disturbed my desire to laze.
On the other side was a man wearing a black coat tailed suit who was practically the picture definition of a butler. The businesslike and flat expression, the balding head with patches of gray hair at the sides, the penciled mustache… the guy was practically the twin brother of Alfred for crying out loud! That didn’t stop me from being a bit grouchy though, I was still rudely awakened after all.
“There a good reason for bothering me this early?” I voiced with a complaining tone, prompting a raised brow from the butler.
“You are expected at the Royal breakfast table sir” He even sounded like Pennyworth!
“Is there a specific reason why it’s held so unforgivably early?” I asked with frustration clearly evident in my voice.
“Their majesties felt it most sensible to ‘break the bread’ as it were, at a time corresponding to the end of night and the beginning of dawn” He explained, still wearing that calm and stolid expression.
“I see, since Luna’s shift is over and she formally passes on the ‘baton of responsibility’ to her sister starting at breakfast right?” I declared with hefty amounts of sarcasm.
“That is the predominant reason correct” He nodded, “They also wish to discuss important matters with you that require both of their expertise, otherwise they would have let you be until later. They sent me to fetch you and take you to them”
“Of course they do” I replied with a roll of my eyes, “Mind giving me a minute or two to get ready? I’m not exactly what you’d consider presentable at the moment”
He stooped in a servile bow, “Of course sir, I will wait here until you have concluded with your morning routine. Do not tarry for long though, it would terribly impolite to keep their Royal Majesties waiting”
“Perish the thought” I murmured to myself as I gently closed the door and made for the small cubbyhole that functioned as the tower’s bathroom.
I turned the knobs of the washbasin so I could splash some warm water on my face to clear away the remaining fatigue clouding my thoughts before grabbing a tiny hand towel and drying my face with it. In the cupboard below was a small selection of mouthwashes, none were titles I had sampled before. I was very much blindsided by the oddity that was named ‘Bacon flavor’ mouthwash alongside other amazing ‘Omelet’ and ‘Donut’ labels. I shrugged to myself after mulling it over a bit, those were breakfast flavors right? The tower’s previous occupant must have pulled plenty of all nighter’s that lasted well into the morning hours and breakfast flavored mouthwashes like these probably served as a stand in substitute for the real deal.
‘Twilight must be a strange girl if this sort of thing was a regular part of her wake up routine’ I confusedly pondered as I gargled the bizarre liquids.
I had to admit, the resemblance in taste to the real deal was uncanny. Granted the pit in my stomach that had decided to make its presence known with a rumbling growl was still unsatisfied, but it was a tasty novelty none the less. A small part of me compared it to a more practical version of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans (Although I highly doubted that they came in Bogey flavored variations). I finished up with my other restroom necessities before combing my hair so that the patch of bedhead wasn’t as noticeable. Contented with the level of fixing up I put into myself, I exited the miniscule lavatory feeling bright eyed and bushy tailed.
‘Hah! I still feel like crap’ I instantly corrected myself, at least there was nourishing food for me in the cards, I was positively famished! I briefly slipped my only physical means of defense (in case Luna was still out for blood) through my belt loops and made for the wooden portal.
I swung open the door, fully ready to be escorted to the comestibles… err I mean their Royal Majesties! The valet guy whose name I’ve yet to learn looked somewhat surprised that I took all of two minutes to make myself decent. He emphatically expressed as much.
“That was rather expeditious sir!” I gave him a cross look in response with a tilting of my head.
“I said I’d only need a couple of minutes didn’t I?”
“Indeed you did sir, although I did not expect you to mean it quite so literally. Most of those I serve tend to… dawdle with their grooming habits” He spoke with no small measure of disdain.
“I don’t doubt it, but that will not be the case with me. When I say I need a specific amount of time, I mean what I say” I sternly declared, I won’t be anything like one of those starchy nobles or worse yet… a Blueblood.
‘God, I hope I don’t bump into him anytime soon. Or least not without a cattle prod, a banana cream pie, and a spray bottle filled with mace’ However, in my heart of hearts, I knew that an encounter with the blonde Ken doll of a man-child was highly likely since he resided in the palace as well.
“Very pragmatic of you sir, if you would follow me please” He motioned for me to follow him as we descended the many stairs of Twilight’s old study tower. I used the lull in conversation to ask about his name.
“So…I never caught your name” I slowly let out, unsure about how to politely ask while at the same time ignoring the fact that I was being a cantankerous dick earlier.
“It’s Shillingsworth sir, Jeeves Shillingsworth”
“Okay Jeeves, can you tone it down on the sir business please? It makes me feel more senescent than I’ve a right to be” Formal titles every once and a while don’t bother me, but people who constantly ‘sir’ this and ‘sir’ that are liable to get on my nerves.
“As you wish, young sir” He replied, making me groan in response. I ultimately let it go since he probably was conditioned to address his male charges as such.
We did not speak much more after that, Jeeves because of his objective oriented tunnel vision mannerisms and I didn't because I was tired of being sir’ed. I noticed that the castle staff had returned from wherever they were yesterday. Maids dressed in more conservative looking French maid uniforms cleaned house and kept everything neat and spiffy looking. Outside the windows in the Royal gardens, Agrarian groundskeepers trimmed hedges, pulled weeds, and tended the flowers. I even saw them catering to all of the various garden critter’s needs. I couldn’t imagine that kind of comprehensive upkeep came easily. I asked Jeeves why the Castle staff was largely absent the day before and he merely told me that they had Saturdays off.
‘I don’t know whether to feel relieved by that or insulted. Their absence is what put me on high alert yesterday!’ I inwardly scowled to myself about stressing over nothing.
After what felt like ten minutes of an agonizingly slow walking pace, we eventually reached the Royal Dining Hall as it was officially named. Jeeves opened the door for me to reveal something that could have been taken out of a Harry Potter book, the dining hall was at least as long as Hogwart’s hall (Likely used for similar populous and official occasions) and had atmospheric effects happening on the ceiling. White puffy clouds billowed and rippled in an invisible wind as they floated above the massive dining table, some of them even became rainclouds that unloaded their cargo of moisture in the form of mist like droplets that fell but left no water marks. I had to admit that seeing such a thing up close was pretty neat.
Way on the other end the Princesses themselves were seated across from each other, an empty chair at the foot of the table to their respective sides. I read between the lines and made my way over to them, keeping eye contact with wall on the opposite side of the room. I couldn’t feel either of their eyes on me so I was guessing that this was going to be more of a casual breakfast. Various platters of fruits and other breakfast items dotted the table cloth. My stomach chose that moment to growl in anticipation.
‘Aww...and here I was hoping it would be à la carte’ I wiped away an imaginary tear in faux disappointment.
I stopped next to the empty chair to address their Royal Majesties. I imagine that if I just chose to sit down and stuff my face without a word of acknowledgment, it would come off as being a little rude.
“Good morning your majesties” I didn’t feel like addressing them singularly since that meant directly speaking to Luna, who was still eyeing me with some aversion visible in her expression.
“Good morning Zenith! I trust you slept well?” Celestia cheerfully exclaimed, either ignoring her sister’s disdain or subtly discouraging it by being Sunshine and Smiles.
“Well enough, last night’s activities notwithstanding” I answered as I sat in the cushioned dining chair. I internally debated whether to dig in or wait for permission to start eating, I doubted that I could hold my voracious stomach at bay for much longer. Thankfully the Princess felt it opportune to answer my unasked question.
“Feel free to help yourself Zenith, my sister and I are mostly finished ourselves”
“Alrighty” I filled my plate with a little from column A and some from column B before settling in to stuff myself, properly of course.
“So how is today going to work out?” I asked as I bit down on the most buttery biscuit to ever grace my taste buds.
“We wish to determine the extent of your abilities; the prophecy itself was not precise enough to give us an idea of what you were fully capable of” Celestia explained.
“I haven’t much of a clue myself your highness; I’ve only been able to channel magic twice so far, and I’m pretty sure one of those times was an unconscious action” I said after I swallowed the rest of the tasty morsel.
“Care to be more specific?” Luna’s first words of the day to me harshly directed, earning a reproachful look from her elder sister.
“Sure” I paid her belligerent attitude no mind. It seems to upset her more anyway, “The first time was when I was just beyond arms reach of the Crystal Chalice, I remember resenting the fact that I had no means of grappling onto it when it decided to just float its way into my open hands”
“And you’re sure that this was caused by you?” The Sun Princess inquired.
“It was surrounded in a red aura; I don’t really see who else that could match” I shrugged noncommittally.
“I see…” She looked deep in thought as she processed that.
I used the silence to continue with consuming everything on the table. Waste not want not right? I decided to pointedly ignore the looks of disgust that Luna projected my way; I was well past the point of caring about earning her favor, and furthermore I was hungry. At least I was still using a fork instead of my face! I suppressed a satisfied belch as I finished my meal, feeling loads better and ready to take on just about anything.
“Art thou finished being a glutton?” Luna asked with a dry tone.
“Well… since that’s everything on the table, I suppose so huh?” I answered in kind.
‘At least she’s not trying to tear my face off or something. Bitchy Luna is better than murderous Luna any day of the week’ I cynically thought.
“Luna, stop antagonizing Zenith. I thought we went over this last night” Celestia was using the ‘big sister’ tone of voice. Luna grumbled something to herself but otherwise remained quiet and fumed.
“What about the second time?” She directed towards me.
“The second time was just last evening actually. When I set out in search of you, I realized that I had no way of actually finding you. There was no one else around to ask, and your guards have this nasty habit of not speaking even when spoken to by anyone else besides you two”
“They try their best; our guards are rather protective of us as one would guess. They’re all volunteers you know” Celestia informed me, something I wouldn’t have initially postulated.
“Why are they so unswervingly quiet anyways? I can actually count the number of times I’ve heard them make noise on one hand!” I asked, curious about their majesties armed escorts.
“To keep their identities ambiguous, because their armor masks their physical identities, their voices are the only other give away as to their ipseity. Of course, some take this a little too far, evidenced by your need to ‘inform’ me of their obstinance”
“I’m sorry that you had to have heard that, I’m sure even a muffled version of my whiny voice must have been grating on your ears” I apologized with gusto; the whiny voice was a terrible weapon to use, there was always the risk of collateral damage after all.
“Get to the point” Luna said irritably, “How did thou- …you manage to find your way to our sister’s tower without guidance?”
“Well that’s the thing. I did have guidance of a sort”
“Explain if you would, please” Celestia politely asked.
I looked up in deep thought, “How should I describe it, has anyone ever told you two that you have a very distinct ‘ambient quality’ about you?”
They looked at each other briefly before Celestia spoke, “We have been told that our presence has a calming or intimidating effect to those with highly attuned senses, but they could never tell which of us it originated from. Are you telling us that you can determine our location based off of our very magical auras?”
“Umm, yes. I can also partially tell your mood based off of them as well. For instance, Luna’s was of cold aggression towards yours truly a few moments ago. And now it’s of a surprised bafflement, kind of like yours is actually” I answered the straight faced monarch, but the confusion was there in her eyes.
“I assume that’s not a common occurrence around here?” I rhetorically stated.
“You are the first, is that how you found me the night before?” I nodded in affirmation.
“Empathic magic, how fascinating” She remarked to herself in hushed tones.
“May we ask what your Mana Mark is?” Luna unexpectedly questioned me.
“I don’t have a Mana Mark” Was my laconic answer.
“Surely thou jest!? One does not retain such unique capabilities and not have a Mana Mark to show for it!” She exclaimed in bewilderment.
“Well, unless there’s a Mana Mark for invisibility then yes I can. And don’t call me Shirley” I esoterically remarked with a chuckle, before pulling up my shirt sleeve to show them the lack of any arbitrary mark.
“The more we know you Zenith, the more of a mystery you become” The Sun Princess silently spoke.
I nodded in agreement, “I am a pretty strange individual aren’t I?”
“So those are the only times you were able to cast any iteration of magic?” She continued her line of questioning.
“To my knowledge, those are the only times I’ve been able to cast any magic. Unless Harmonious Synchronization Events count as well” I added in response, remembering what Octavia told me. Hopefully the next time our paths intertwine it won’t be so awkward…considering our last parting moments.
Celestia shook her head as a negative to that, “No, such events are not made singularly. Those are more of a reflection of the ambient magic being expressed through multiple channels and depend on the ‘mood’ of the occasion if you would. They aren’t terribly common, I myself having borne witness to only a few dozen in the last five decades”
‘Geez… I’ve seen three in the past week alone! At least that means musicals shouldn’t be a recurring theme here’ I thought with a small amount of relief, I sing on my own terms darn it!
“I am aghast as to how this one can harness the Arcane forces without the manifestation of a Focal Gem” Luna remarked, clearly ruminating on the implications.
“Focal Gem? You mean those Bindi’s on your foreheads?”
“That is a strange name for it, but those are indeed our Focal Gems. When a Stellar Magi earns or discovers their subject of expertise, represented by their Mana Mark, they also receive a custom Focal Gem as well. It materializes out of the magical Aether itself, and allows for a Stellar Mage to channel more sophisticated spells” The Princess explained.
“I doubt it’s done their humility any favors, the folks around here are primarily Stellar Magi and most enjoy acting like the world revolves around them” I expressed dubiously.
“Do not mind them Zenith. They may think highly of themselves, but all Arcanians are considered equal under our watchful reign” Celestia said with forbearing pride.
“Just not all clothing, I can’t walk three minutes in this town without one of those stuffy nobles criticizing my choice of outfit! It’s not like I care or anything, but any kind of scathing attention thrown my way irks me on another level” I shook my head; I was getting off topic here.
“So Mr. Shillingsworth told me that both of you were necessary for something that had to do with me?”
“Correct, today we shall get you started on developing your potential for magic” Celestia calmly explained, giving me an idea of how my day was going to play out.
“And who shall be my instructor? Unless magic is only a self-taught process here”
“That would be us” Luna gazed menacingly at me, “Pray you don’t disappoint me”
I stared back at her blankly, “Sure thing Darth” I glanced over to Celestia, “What about you?”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to provide much in the way of training, day court starts soon and I am duty bound to my obligations as Regent of the day. Perhaps later in the evening we will be able to converse more”
I nodded, “Of course your highness, I understand completely. I’ll do my best to learn what I can of my latent abilities”
“So you are finally accepting that you are among the Trifects?” Celestia asked with a sensible tone, remembering my state of mind from yesterday.
I inclined my head forward in agreement, “I am your highness. Never you mind how I felt about it yesterday, nothing fazes me for very long” I reassured her.
She gave me a faint smile in response, “That’s good to hear. It would be a shame if you felt a loss of identity simply because you changed into something different”
“I am who I am, and no change of status is going to shake that” It just meant that I was a human that could fly, use magic, and was probably a lot stronger than your typical Arcanian; even agrarians. That was when an important question popped into my head that needed to be asked.
“Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask your highness, but how many Trifects are there?”
“With the addition of yourself Zenith? There are four. My sister, myself, and Cadence composing the rest” She explained.
‘I see... so no Twilicorn then. Or would that be Twifect?’ I humorously thought.
“Are there any other concerns you mean to voice?”
“No your majesty, I’m eager to begin exploring the possibilities of knowing how to formally use magic”
“Then we are of one mind. Do try and get along with Luna would you?” She pleaded before leveling an admonitory look at her younger sister, “And try to give Zenith a chance dear sister, his instruction in the Arcane arts may be important, but it would be prudent for all of us if you both play nice”
“Will do Princess”
“Very well sister”
We may have spoken at the same time, but only Luna dared acknowledge it with a glimpse in my direction. The Solar Princess politely excused herself from the table to attend to her royal duties. Leaving Luna, myself, and an ensuing and unpleasant silence alone in the great hall. As if sensing the dour mood, the white cumuli became full storm clouds that released thunder and precipitation. I slowly cleared my throat to break the intangible barrier that surrounded us. I fricken hated being thrust into these situations but at least I was making an effort to tolerate the currently lethargic Lunar Lady.
“So what’s the first lesson of the day teach?” I slowly asked, mindful of her foul mood.
“Walk with us” She commanded with a gesticulation of her hand, wearing an unreadable expression.
I did as she ordered and followed her out of the dining hall. Together we traversed a multitude of twists and turns that led us down countless corridors and hallways until we reached a set of doors leading into a large circular room. The padded walls and solid floor panels were a combination of woods and alloys. My guess was that this room was very sturdy for containing heavy duty spell casting. The room’s inventory consisted of a multitude of objects such as metal spheres of varying sizes, some kind of training dummies, Archery targets and other apparatuses meant for drilling routines; marking this as some kind of exercise room.
‘Minus the gym equipment of course’
Luna walked to the center of the room before facing back to me. Her expression was that of a strict instructor about to evaluate a student’s ability by throwing challenge after challenge at them until they failed. It wasn’t a look that brought any reassuring safety with it, evidenced by my hand unconsciously moving closer to my knife sheath. After a minute of silently staring at me she spoke.
“Before we begin showing you the ways of magic, we wish to see how well you can handle yourself in a sudden combat situation. We’ll start you off lightly”
Her moonstone focal gem (Bindi) glowed briefly before she conjured three shadowy humanoid projections wielding poles with blunted spear tips.
“A trio of simple opponents should prove easy for someone who claims to be our equal no?”
‘So that’s how she wants to play? Fine, but this cat still has claws’ I unsheathed my blade and held it in a reverse grip. Glaring defiantly at the Lunar Monarch.
“If that’s how I’m going to earn the right to learn more about magic, then so be it” I spoke before dropping into a defensive stance, with the three shadow men slowly surrounding me.
We held the standoff for a few seconds more before the one to my right lunged forward with its weapon. I parried its pole arm away with my Tantō and jumped back as the shadow in front of me attacked with a sweep of its spear. The leftmost shadow man used the distraction to jab its weapon into my left arm. It stung like a red hot poker despite only being a magical projection, making me hiss in pain as I rubbed at the newly created sore spot. I could have sworn I heard Luna chuckle from across the room in morbid satisfaction, but I had no time to analyze the thought any further for the three shades charged all at once. I dove between the two on my left and quickly spun around, the momentum they built up meant that one of them didn’t get the chance to recover before my blade found its way into the neck area, causing it to dissipate into a cloud of black haze.
With one less combatant to deal with I suddenly had some more breathing room. The flipside to that was the remaining two increased their aggressive actions, forcing me into a defensive backpedal, at this point my blood was pumping and I could feel it pounding in my ears. My mental faculties cleared themselves of any errant thoughts and devoted all of their resources to the fight. I felt myself give into a kind of battle trance as I danced between the thrusting spears, my enemies’ moves becoming slower and clumsier to the point where I could have seen them coming a mile away with my eyes blindfolded.
The first shade made a critical mistake when it tried to nail me in an overhead swing, as it brought its weapon over its head I kicked out its legs from beneath it. The seemingly surprised shade dropped its shadowy weapon that I then proceeded to appropriate for myself and sink into its skull, making it go ‘poof’ in the same method as its fallen comrade. I didn’t even give the last shade standing a chance to move before hurling my blade into its chest, my Tantō sailing clear through its abdomen as it burst into nothingness before burying itself into the wall section right next to Luna’s head. To her credit she didn’t flinch, but I could see a kind of faint tremble in her eyes. She tried to magick my blade out of the wall before frowning to herself and removing it manually. She appraised it with a short cursory glance before speaking.
“This dagger…where did you get it? It’s resistant to our magics in a manner most similar to you”
“I found it stored along with the rest of my belongings. And don’t call it a dagger, that blade is technically more of a short sword”
I then recalled it over to me in a purely automatic motion, a crimson glow surrounding the weapon before prying it free of Luna’s grasp and returning it to its sheath. I stood there silently, fully realizing that I had just performed magic in a nearly nonchalant manner. The Princess also mirrored my shock at not being able to take hold of the blade with her magics, but seeing it yield to mine. I brushed off the surprise quickly and stood at attention.
“So! Have I proven worthy enough to learn under you, oh Princess of the Night?” I may have sounded a bit dramatic but she did just make me fight for it after all.
“Indeed you have, well done” She actually congratulated me?
‘Hey hey! Finally making some progress here!’ I inwardly high fived myself in celebration.
“Splendid, what are we going to start off with?” I asked with delighted fervor. I was going learn how to actively cast magic baby!
“Because your knowledge of this world’s magic is equal to that of a small child, we will have to begin with exercises suitable for one” Okay, so maybe she was being a bit condescending, but we all got to start small right?
“Fine by me” I shrugged in response. Something that actually seemed to trip her Royal Highness up.
“You are not bothered by this?” The expression she was making was hilarious; too bad I couldn’t take a picture. Guess I’ll settle for a mental snapshot.
“No, should I be?” I replied in an irksomely coy tone, causing her to scowl in disappointment. If Luna was still trying to push my buttons, she was just going to auto troll herself.
She huffed to herself before continuing, “Then we shall begin with simple levitation exercises”
She used her telekinetic grip to grab a trio of those metal spheres I saw earlier and placed them in front of me. The smallest was the size of a bowling ball and probably just as hefty, the second was the size of a beach ball and had a good deal more mass, and the third was the size of a tub-thumping boulder.
‘Must be Tom’s metallic cousin Jerry’
“So teach, how do I harness basic levitation spells?” I asked the Moon Monarch.
She held up two fingers in reaction to my inquiry, “Utilizing magic in any form consists primarily of two facets. The first is merely an expression of will; to put it simply you have to will your magic to do something. The second requirement is having the reserves of magical power needed to cast the desired spell. As long as a magic user has the will to carry out a spell and the means to channel the power necessary, the possibilities are beyond limit. Elementary spells such as levitation do not require much in the way of focused mental effort so this should be easy enough. Each Mage looks upon their own internal pool of magic from a different perspective, but we would recommend reaching out with thyself and compelling the spheres to levitate towards you”
“So the magic will direct my actions?” I purposely probed for an abstruse reference.
“Partially, but it will also follow your commands” Luna even got the sage like tone down.
‘I can’t believe that actually worked. Okay time to focus’
I stared long and hard at the smallest sphere before reaching out with my hand. When that did nothing I tried a different approach. ‘Maybe the magic here is an ambient energy field like the force. Something that I can intuitively access instead of trying to strong arm it’ I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, controlling my breathing rate as well. It was kind of like doing a little soul searching, but instead I was digging for an inner medium of power instead.
Sure enough, I found it in me and directed it to surround the small metal sphere and bring it closer to me. The energy traveled from the core of my being and into my hands, giving them a feeling I couldn’t quite pin down. It was sort of like having that prickly sensation in your limbs when the blood flow is constrained and when your hands felt completely numb. Only they weren’t numb, in fact they were thrumming with Arcane might, evidenced by a bright red glow encompassing both my appendages and the sphere I had directed the energies to. The weight of the sphere registered as a kind of pressure in my mind, although I can honestly say that it was feather light to the point of being negligible. I brought the sphere to bear and let it settle into the palm of my right hand, I held it up and down to gauge its actual weight. My enhanced strength meant that it was still very light, but I’d still say that it weighed the same as a weighted bowling ball.
“You grasp these things quickly; perhaps we won’t be spending all morning watching a Trifect struggle with lifting a simple training sphere” Luna spoke in a harsh judicial tone, but there was a small measure of positive regard underneath.
“It became easier to grasp the concept once I put it in terms that I inherently understand on a deeper level” I explained.
She waved a hand dismissively, “We do not wish to hear how you conceptualized the inner machinations of magic, we only care that you are capable of doing so. We will move onto the next exercise after you can levitate them all and stack them together”
‘That could be a little more challenging’
I brought my inner magic to bear once more and tackled levitating all three spheres at once instead of individually. The first two were easy but the third one gave me pause, it was a lot heavier than it looked!
‘Ugh! Jerry needs to go on a diet’
I remembered what Luna said about will having a significant impact on the outcome of using a spell. This was good for me, if there’s one thing I possess a lot of… its stubborn will. I delved deeply and shunted the power into my current efforts, the intensity of the glow around my hands tripled in brightness while the sensation of pressure in my mind practically disappeared. Jerry floated off the ground along with the other two spheres before I neatly piled them into a metallic snowman. With the task complete, I let the magic seep back into my center. I heard a slow clap emanating from the Princess, she wasn’t impressed by any means but at least she was appeased for now.
“Superb, you’ve proven yourself to be at least level with that of a small child”
“A child mage can levitate all that?” I expressed my doubts while pointing back at the pile of stacked metal.
Luna however ignored the question and took hold of the training dummies with her magic, inserting their staves into outlets on the floor. They were crude creations but were covered in the same heavy armor that the Royal Guard made use of. I had a feeling that offensive magic would be next on the list.
“Your next lesson shall be something that we hope is not taught to young children. Combat spells are a rugged practice that requires a degree of finesse and focus that are tested by the strains of battle. Despite how dangerous it can be, low level combat spells are still relatively facile. Try shaping your magic into a projectile and propel them towards the targets”
She demonstrated by forming a midnight black javelin of pure magic and letting it fly towards one of the dummies, entering through one end of the torso and exiting out the other as if it were not even there. The projectile dissipated just before it could burrow into the wall, possibly hinting at some kind of magic nullifying material in the bulkheads.
‘That is so cool. I think that I’m gonna put my own spin on it though’
I built the energies up in my hands and mentally shaped it into a small serrated dart. This tiny package held a big surprise though, since I focused another command into its formation. I held up my right hand and mimicked a gun, aiming for the flat surface of the helmet forehead. I ‘thumbed’ down the hammer and sent the dart soaring straight into the helmet of the dummy I aimed it at. Luna stood to the side and remained clearly unimpressed. I smirked to myself and triggered the additional effect with one word.
“Bang”
The miniscule magic missile abruptly imploded in a contained but violent reaction. The gravity well it created began sucking the armored head of the dummy into a vortex of force that crumpled it and the helmet into a rigid lump of cloth and metal that promptly rolled off the shoulders and onto the floor. Silence dominated the room for the next thirty seconds as Luna stared in awe at the display of lethality. I would admit that I could be a bit of a showman when the opportunity presented itself.
“Astonishing…” She said after regaining her senses, “You managed to weave together a projectile and an implosive enchantment into one spell. Perhaps you are without question the chosen Trifect that the prophecy spoke of”
“Please don’t refer to me as a chosen one. Not only does it make me feel needlessly venerated, but bad things tend to happen to the ‘chosen one’ and everyone they care about, I’d rather that not happen” I carefully explained, still knowledgeably wary about this world’s penchant for exploiting themes like that.
She gave me a funny look, “We have no idea what you speak of, but we shall acquiesce none the less”
“Thank you” I inclined my head to her in gratitude, “Are we going to resume mangling these crude targets or move on to another application of magic?”
“You do not feel any fatigue? Combining spells like that is at least at the middle of the tier and costs a good deal of power, even we could not last more than a few hours casting such spells and not be weary by the end of it. And you have only just begun to realize your Arcane powers” She pointed out. Now that she mentioned it, my mind did feel a bit worn out, but I could still go another thirty minutes.
“Let’s resume training, I’ve still got a good half hour left in me yet!” I exclaimed with zest.
“Enthusiasm is good, but do not strain yourself Zenith. Overuse of magic for a neophyte mage results in a migraine most severe, we still remember ours even though it was ages ago” She spoke with a slight giggle and a self-deprecating grin.
‘Is Luna actually warming up to me? People sure change their attitude towards things quickly around here’
“I am convinced of your highness’s wisdom on these matters, I suppose a recess is in order?” I proposed.
“We believe that to be a sound idea. Would-… would you like to rest in our quarters?” She tentatively asked, looking uncertain of herself.
“Uhm… sure?” I responded with a raised brow.
I didn’t sound very sure, but Luna smiled as her focal gem lit up and the ground surrounding us did the same. My senses were then assaulted by the alien sensation of standing on a platform that felt like it was moving in all directions but going nowhere all at once. The dull grays of the exercise room were replaced with the navy blue and blacks of Luna’s humble abode. I stared in annoyance at Luna for not telling me she was going to teleport us there.
“A little warning would be greatly appreciated next time, but that was certainly…a unique experience” I then paid more attention to my new surroundings.
Luna’s room was almost exactly what I would have expected. It was circular in nature since it was built inside a tower; the walls were essentially a panorama of the night sky with an assortment of stars, clouds, and Luna’s namesake in its full glory. Her balcony had a telescope pointing straight up, although I could see that she also had a good vantage point over her city in the same manner as Celestia’s did. Next to her veiled and luxurious looking rotunda bed was a dresser and a vanity mirror in the shape of a crescent.
‘Cute’ I drily thought.
“What dost thou think of our chambers?” Luna apparently slipped in her grammar when worried about someone else’s opinion as well.
“It is… adequate” I spoke neutrally but with sincerity too. I’m not really someone you’d ask for their interior decorating opinion.
She didn’t seem delighted with my ambiguous answer but pushed no further or made any allegations against my non obsequious viewpoint. I spotted a leather recliner and made my way to it before relaxing upon its cushiony goodness. I was about to close my eyes for some R&R but inquisitive Luna would have none of it, choosing to riddle me with a barrage of questions.
“Where do you originally hail from?”
“A place remarkably similar to this one in some respects, but vastly different in others” Was my equivocal answer, causing Luna to frown intensely.
“How were you so quick to realize that you were dreaming? We waited for the exact moment you fell asleep so that we could survey your mind. We were very surprised by the oddities that we found”
“I just did that one time, my other dreams were either bland or were strangely insightful. And next time try to knock before entering my dreams, the sanctuary of mind is one of the many things I hold sacrosanct” I looked at her vehemently to make sure she understood how determined I was when I said that, only backing down when she agreed with a quick nod.
“That place we saw in your dreams… Felucia you called it? If that wasn’t your home, then what was it?” She spoke with fierce curiosity.
‘Oh boy… how am I even going to begin explaining what Star Wars is to Luna?’
“It’s just some place I’ve seen on the big screen, the actual answer is more complicated than I’m willing to explain. But suffice it to say, you won’t find it looking through that telescope of yours” I answered with a brief flick in the direction of said spyglass.
“That was not the answer we were hoping for, but we understand that you have your secrets…so long as they do not endanger our subjects” She warned.
“Quite the opposite actually, if anything the things I know of could only help them. But the world is not ready for such knowledge…not yet”
I neglected to mention that I also knew of things that could render this planet lifeless if misused. But again, it was nothing anyone else needed to know. Celestia knows and she was visibly distraught by such things. Speaking of whom…
“How long does your sister hold her day court?” It was my turn to ask some questions anyhow.
“It varies; sometimes my sister ends it as early as noon” She answered from her position on the bed, quietly observing me.
“Do you host something similar?”
“We do yes, but it is not as…occupied as our dear sister’s court” She said with a crestfallen look in her eye.
“Probably for the best, I hear those things can be tedious and boring as hell” I shrugged in my comfortable chair.
“But we would appreciate our subjects showing that they rely on us, even for such trivial matters” She responded with an agitated huff.
“Princess, I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who appreciate you for all that you do” I reassured her, even if I hadn’t seen the way she ruled previously.
“Do you appreciate us?” Luna suddenly asked, looking and acting a lot smaller than she usually did as she awaited my reply. I thought a moment before I spoke.
“As long as you keep the cycle of night and day in motion so this planet doesn’t end up looking like Ryloth, and also keep the night sky as breathtaking as it normally is, then I will always appreciate you Luna” I truthfully said, looking her in the eyes as I did so.
“We are…happy to hear that” She said with a slightly misty composure. It was only after she sniffled did she realize that she was acting out of Royal character, she then hastily excused herself and got up to make way for her restroom stall.
‘Geez, people here can get so emotional sometimes’ I dryly thought as I continued lounging on the chair.
Luna did not return for what was probably twenty minutes, I wasn’t surprised since women in general love to take their time sprucing themselves up or fixing themselves when their makeup starts running. Although I was somewhat shocked that Luna belonged to that category since she didn’t seem to devote that much of herself to her aesthetic charms, plus I didn’t see any kind of makeup on her; she didn’t really need it to be honest. I brought both hands to my face and groaned in exasperation, what was I just thinking? Luna’s wonderful and all, but I wasn’t going to become magnetized to her simply because she was being genial to me for a change.
When she eventually emerged from the Royal lavatory, she wore the same stoic face befitting of a reserved monarch, although she also looked worn down too.
“We apologize for our most unfit behavior; it is not often that we find someone who is thankful for our efforts in bringing the night. We found ourselves momentarily beholden to you Zenith” She then did something unprecedented; she bowed her head to me in respect. I was a bit taken by that, but I replied with equal candor.
“Princess, I want you to know that I will never judge you unfairly. If you ever need someone else to confide in besides your sister, you need look no further than to me for support” I held a hand to my chest as I said that to reinforce the notion.
“And we are most grateful for your compassion” She smiled in response.
“So now that I’ve rested a little, are you going to teach me more magic?” I asked hopefully, ready to get back to casting stuff.
She sighed and shook her head, “We are afraid not Zenith, the events of the past have caught up to us and we are most exhausted. We are in understanding if you feel disappointed” She said apologetically.
“No its cool, I’ve been meaning to observe the proceedings of the day court anyway” I fibbed. Truthfully I was a little let down that there were to be no more magic lessons today; it was just getting interesting too.
“Plus magic is a lot more intuitive than I would have thought, it won’t be long before I can start doing really complex stuff with it” I grinningly replied.
“Refrain from setting anything on fire if you would? Spells can be more combustible than one might think” I’d have taken it as a joke had she not looked so serious.
“Fret not your highness; I don’t plan on blowing up anything anytime soon” My reassurance seemed to ease her doubts at least.
“We are relieved by that, would you like us to teleport you there?” She politely proffered to me.
“Thanks for the magnanimous offer, but I believe I’ll take the second fastest way down” I said as I walked to her balcony.
“Rest well Luna” Were my last words to her before leaping over the edge much the same way I did last evening. The feeling of the wind rushing up to greet my ears and my wings gripping the air as I dived never got old.
I landed in the castle courtyard and bid everyone working there a good morning which they cordially returned with a friendly wave to accompany it. I walked through the cheerfully serene gardens with the intention of finding the main entrance to the palace and the throne room sub sequentially. I optimistically began humming a special tune from ‘Hello, Dolly!’ as I meandered along the courtyards many winding paths. I was tempted to strut like I owned the place too, but I remembered that I wasn’t that rakish... or a prince, I’d have to talk to Celestia about if I was to be formally recognized and if I could choose to forgo such formalities.
It wasn’t terribly hard to find the main entrance since there was already a congregation of people lining up just outside the doors. The gaggle of people was comprised mostly of the usual noblemen and women, but there was also a sprinkle of more casual looking folks as well. I usually shied away from large crowds, but I didn’t have much else to occupy myself with in the meantime and I doubt that they’d take kindly to me cutting in front of them just so I can bug the Princess.
So I decided to experiment with my magic again, only this time I channeled it in a way that encompassed my entire body and adhered to its every curve. With phase one complete, I willed the field to become transparent so that light passed through unimpeded, resulting in an active camouflage that behaved just like it did in Halo. The only telltale sign that I was even there to begin with was a faint outline that could only be seen if someone was meticulously searching for it, and only if I was moving across their line of sight.
‘It’s official… I love having magic on my side. Maybe being a pseudo Stu isn’t something to entirely bemoan’ I quietly mused as I stealthily waded passed the people impatiently waiting in the line.
I wasn’t able to avoid all of them, occasionally bumping into a person who felt like arbitrarily shifting in place, who then consequentially either glanced about in confusion or decided to blame it on their neighbor and start a petty dispute. I rolled my eyes at their antics; these spoiled adults were practically bratty children on the inside. I was worried that there was some kind of magical sensor that would expose me to the public, and therefore the guards’ anger at would could mistake as a potential assassin, but my paranoia was unwarranted since no such thing occurred. My cloak held up wonderfully as I sneaked up the stairs and made way for the throne room.
I had to time my entrance corresponding to each party of people being let in to have their concerns (complaints) voiced and mediated by the Sun monarch. Of course that meant waiting a good fifteen minutes for the next opening, I was sorely tempted to groan in boredom but held it together for the sake of my disguise. At long last the mammoth doors opened and both parties stepped out, one side looking particularly smug and the other visibly pouting in defeat. I didn’t know the details of their mundane disagreement and I didn’t care, I zipped past the gates as soon as they opened. The next party in line had to speak to some official looking fellow who was probably the court herald so I had some time to approach a bored looking Celestia. I dropped my cloak and shimmered back into sight, Celestia’s eyes immediately snapped towards me and her hands automatically lit up with was probably a defensive spell.
“Hey Sunshine! Miss me?” I wasn’t terribly worried about getting zapped; I did have my own magic after all.
‘Oy! Don’t get cocky kid, lest you leave yourself open for a rude surprise’ My rational side reminded me, making me tone down on my bluster when I realized that I was right to be wary of my own hubris.
When Celestia recognized my voice she immediately calmed down and shut off whatever spell she was cooking up. She then glared disapprovingly at me, clearly upset over something.
“Please don’t do that Zenith. I’d expect such things out of Discord, not you. I could have seriously harmed you!” She scolded me
‘Could Discord actually be here in the castle?’ I cautiously thought.
“You’re right, sorry for dropping in unannounced your highness. Sometimes my need for irrational skylarking gets the better of me” I implored her forgiveness, which she was quick to give with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“On another note… I see that you are making tremendous strides in your magical progress” The monarch remarked, clearly impressed herself.
“I guess so; it’s fairly easy to comprehend once you operationalize the concepts for yourself. I simply envisioned it as power within myself that I could harness and mold to any purpose I need it for. By doing so, I all but breezed through exercises like basic levitation, projectile spells, and even spell weaves. Luna wasn’t half bad of an instructor either, minus the rough initiation of course” I concluded my explication with a short chuckle.
“You’ll have to tell me more about it later, the next batch of quarrelsome plebeians is about to make their presence known”
“I could keep you company if you want?” I offered, having nothing better to do anyway.
“That’s most kind of you, but you’ll need to look like you’re important. Here” She handed me a blank scroll and a quill from a hidden compartment in the armrest of her throne, “Pretend to take notes with these” She pragmatically suggested.
“Isn’t that a little underhanded?” I asked with a raised brow.
“It is” She admitted with a curt nod, “But most of these disputes are trivial matters that can be solved swiftly, the ones that are not I can delegate to the bureaucracy. If Discord’s erratic personality can’t discourage them from dropping whatever it is that they’re fighting over, then I’m positive the red tape will”
“Discord runs the bureaucracy?” I said in disbelief, picturing the crazed ex-villain dressing up for the occasion.
“Of course he does! The Arcanian bureaucracy is so needlessly convoluted that Discord’s disorderly outlook fit perfectly with it. From what he once begrudgingly admitted to me and I quote, ‘I couldn’t make that bothersome mess of paperwork and contradictory regulations more chaotic if I tried… I love it!’ I’d say he finally found a productive use for his powers” Celestia remarked with a wry smile as the next group of people made their way to the throne.
I looked at the feather quill in vague amusement before tossing it aside and fishing a pen out of my pocket and clicking it. The noise briefly drawing the Princess's attention before she focused it on her subjects. Her bored expression was soon covered up in a regal mask that revealed nothing but shone with authority. The subjects stopped just shy of the dais and bowed respectfully to their monarch. The Princess’s voice reflected that same professionalism that one would expect from the Solar Sovereign.
“Good morning my precious subjects, what is it that concerns you today?” Celestia gracefully addressed her citizens with a matronly smile.
The somewhat portly fellow on the left wearing the classic top hat and monocle combo was the first to speak, “Good day your most radiant majesty! I am Cogsworth, owner and propriety of Mantelpiece clock industries. As you might know, I have holdings here in this city and throughout the whole of Arcania. Quite the ways since the company’s humble origins in my grandfather’s tinkering room” He pride fully boasted about his accomplishments as he adjusted his monocle.
“And the other debonair gentleman?” Celestia looked at him; he recognized his cue to introduce himself.
“Salutations your highness! I am Clockwork the timepiece crafter. I own a small but very successful trade here in this most prestigious of cities. Timekeepers Emporium may not be as large as my fellow ‘Entrepreneur’s’ business, but we pride ourselves with providing clocks that are as elegant as they are intricate!” Was his long winded introduction, complete with histrionic flair.
“And what is that you two wish to bring to my attention?” The monarch asked of the two gentlemen.
I had a feeling that this was where the debate regressed into finger pointing and hissy fits. I only paid half attention to everything while I doodled random objects from my spot at the side of the throne.
“I am convinced that Mr. Cogsworth has replicated one of my designs and marketed it without my approval!” Clockwork articulated with some indignation before fishing out what looked like a rolled up schematic and an advertisement for a fancy looking arched mantel clock. He then levitated the materials over to the Princess who looked them over; I couldn’t really tell the difference since all timepieces looked the same to me in my opinion.
“Look! Were it not for differing dial shapes and the obvious emblem change, they would be the exact same appliance!” The businessman asserted.
The portly one bristled as if insulted by the accusation, “I’ll have you know that I have done no such thing my good man! Mantelpiece industries is purely authentic in its contrivances and any such allegations to the contrary are as believable as the baseless rumors Concordian housewives relish spreading amongst each other” He clutched the lapels of his coat with a ‘hrmph!’ as he ended his defensive statement.
I know that it may have been pushing my ‘sway’ in official matters, but I chose that moment to pop a question.
“And does this violate any established copyright or patent infringement laws?” They both looked at me as if I had spoken in a foreign language.
“Copyright?”
“Patent Infringement?”
I had to resist the urge to face palm at both their ignorance of such elementary statutes and the very real possibility that this land did not operate under that particular tidbit of vital legislature. At that point the Princess decided to take the easy way out.
“I think that there’s a certain head of bureaucracy who would enjoy hearing your case, would you like me to refer you to him?”
They spared a brief glance and each other and both involuntarily shuddered at the idea, they likely had met the Lord of Chaos before and did not entertain the idea of meeting him again. The simultaneously bowed and spoke.
“That won’t be necessary your majesty”
“That’s quite alright your majesty”
And with that they departed, their quiet bickering between each other was completely muffled once the throne room doors shut behind them.
“I am appalled that there are no laws against plagiarism here” I remarked disdainfully, worried that the corporate fat cat might have gotten away with screwing the other businessman over. I’m all for Capitalism, but only when it’s backed by original innovation. It was yet another reminder that this land was a bit behind in terms of overall technology and legal ordinance protecting intellectual properties, but I digress.
“I never felt the need to sign anything like that into being, usually matters like those appear very rarely” Celestia explained with an exasperated sigh as she rubbed at her temples.
“Is that some kind of advanced writing implement you were using earlier?” She asked out of the blue.
“Yeah, it’s technically called a ball point pen. In laymen’s terms, it’s like a quill that has a well of ink running down the shaft of the feather; only it’s a little more tricky than that. The internal reservoir of writing fluid is dispensed via a tiny metal ball in the pen tip, which can be retracted and extended by pushing the plunger in the back which is connected to a spring that clicks the head into place.” I clarified further by pointing to and interacting with each component as I summarized the basics of an ordinary ink pen.
“Such a simple item when one thinks about it” The Princess murmured to herself as she mulled the idea over in her mind.
I then handed it to her, “Keep it as my humble gift to you. Perhaps you can find a means of mass producing them and rendering quills and ink wells obsolete like my people did in the centuries long since passed. I won’t even ask you to credit me for their introduction” I added in good humor at the end.
She accepted it with a heartfelt smile, “That’s very generous of you Zenith. This will spare me the need to constantly re-dip the tip in ink whenever I need to sign something or write a letter of response to my cherished student Twilight”
I shrugged indifferently, “It’s only a pen your highness. But if I could make your life even faintly easier, then I can say that I did my good deed for the day”
‘Figuratively and literally’ I ironically observed.
“Know that even the smallest deeds add to the ocean of goodwill out there, and know that I personally appreciate what you’ve done for me. This will make finishing paperwork much faster for me!” She gleefully spouted, until the herald announced the next pair of nitwits with an undoubtedly meaningless squabble they felt deserved the ear of their sovereign. It was going to be a long day court… that much was for certain.
And so half a day passed with torturous slowness, round after round of disputations passed through those golden doors. Shockingly, not a single justifiable altercation could be found among them, if there was ever a trace of me that envied Celestia of her job; it defenestrated itself out the window in sheer terror in the first thirty minutes of keeping her company in that grand chamber of ascendancy (and apparently it functioned as a complaint receptacle as well). In between bouts of supercilious whiners, Celestia and I chatted and exchanged amusing observations about each person entering the chambers, so it wasn’t entirely boring.
I found it incredibly enlightening when she told me the exact method of how she raised the Sun after I had pointed out how the gravity was the same here as back home, apparently her innate connection to the Sun allows her to appear as many thousands of times its mass; though only in a way that the Sun alone is affected. I then made a jesting comment asking if jokes about her weight were out of the question, getting harmonious laughter as my only response. I had to admit that I wasn’t expecting a millennia old ruler who rose the Sun each and every morning to be so…relatable. Or perhaps it was just me being socially challenged, regardless of which it was; I could safely say that the Princess was a delight to converse with.
Once day court was concluded and early evening began setting in, Celestia told me that she had one more obligation to attend to. And that occasion was the Concordian garden party, a little get together for the nobles hosted by the castle every other Sunday that was meant to encourage good relations amongst the high born families and strengthen ties between trade owners. The Sun Princess encouraged me to enjoy myself while she dealt with the sycophantic aristocrats who were already surrounding her and showering her with ingratiating compliments.
Of course the garden party was also legitimately a socializing event as well, so ritzy drinks and classy music were abound. Glowing lanterns suspended by a string that ran throughout the gardens cast an illuminating glow that allowed the nobles to see how well they could hammer wooden balls across the grass with their croquet mallets. Noblewomen gossiped amongst themselves and ostentatiously complimented each other’s choice of wear, while the men either discussed commerce agreements or which of the single ladies they thought and I quote ‘had the finest looking arse’. I decided to go along with it since I was curious to see what the specifics of the garden party entailed, although spotting both Octavia and Daring in the crowd made me more than a little hesitant to go out and mingle. I had already attracted the attentions of some of the party goers who whispered back and forth over the plainly clothed new comer who walked so casually alongside their ever magnificent Princess.
‘Face it Zenith… you have unresolved issues with both women that need to be addressed. Might as well kill two birds with one stone’ I steeled myself for the abhorrent task of hobnobbing it up with the locals and delved into the crowd.
“Would you care for some liquid courage? You look like you need it pal” A servant carrying a tray of martini’s offered to me.
“I’m afraid I don’t partake of the drink, but thanks for the vote of confidence” I snarked as I brushed past him. I made my way towards Octavia first since she was closest, I didn’t think she was part of the ensemble tonight which I found odd; instead she was idling away next to the punch bowl and generally looking like she had swallowed something that didn’t agree with her.
“It seems that we meet again my fair lady, looking good by the way” I sincerely spoke as I poured myself a glass with the ladle. It was true too, instead of her suit and bowtie attire, she was clad in a rather lovely strapless dress decorated with symbols of her Mana Mark.
“Better men than you have tried that line before and found themselves rebuffed quite expeditiously” She automatically responded before actually looking at me and having that spark of recognition light up in her eyes.
“Oh! Its-…you Zenith” She said nervously, twisting at the hem of her gown.
“You’ll have to forgive me for my abrupt departure the last we spoke, and for under-dressing for this most festive get together” Yeah, I decided to play the ‘obfuscating ignorance’ card; knowing that it would probably be more believable than just pretending nothing happened. She seemed to pretend that nothing happened either, although the tense chuckle she vocalized told me that it was still definitely on her mind.
“That’s quite alright. With how these people react to someone they see rubbing elbows with her majesty, you’d likely set a new fashion trend” She replied with a giggle.
“Somehow I doubt that, although her highness is an absolute pleasure to speak casually with. Very down to Earth once you really get to spend enough time with her”
“It still boggles my mind how coolly you can act around the monarchs of all Arcania” She spoke in puzzlement.
I shrugged, “They’re not much different than you or me, they’ve just been around longer and have an innate connection to the astral bodies is all” I reasoned.
“To say nothing of their authority” She acerbically murmured and downed her glass of punch, before she asked me an unexpected question.
“Would you care to dance?”
“Uh… I don’t know, I’m not much of a dancer” I anxiously tried to exempt myself.
“It’s just slow dancing, c’mon it’ll be fun” Without waiting for my response she took me by the hand and led me out onto the lawn where the other couples were slowly swaying with each other. I silently prayed that Daring didn’t happen to be watching or there would be hell to pay.
Once we made our way onto the small field where the other couples danced, we assumed the usual slow dance position; my right hand holding her mid back and my left hand holding her right at my shoulder level. We then commenced smoothly oscillating side to side as we moved along an invisible circle in the grass. Even though I typically hated these things, slowly rocking back and forth with the musician felt…nice for a change. I struck up a conversation as we peered into each other’s eyes.
“So what brings you to the garden party?”
“Members of the Royal Orchestra receive an invitation every so often, I don’t typically attend them. But I suppose I made an exception for this night” It sounded like there was more of a reason behind it than that, but I didn’t bring it up.
“And you?” She returned the question, “Why do linger here? Your summons by their Royal Majesties is over is it not?”
“I’m not free to speak about our discussion or what was revealed to me. But I can tell you that they need me for something important, so you can probably find me here if you needed me”
“I’ll certainly bear that in mind”
We didn’t say much after that, instead losing ourselves in the music. Cast adrift in a sea of melody. It didn’t even register with me when Octavia laid her head against my shoulder and sighed in contentment. As with all good things though, it gradually came to an end. With a heavy heart, I pulled away from the graceful woman and bid her farewell after explaining that I had someone I had to mend relations with. She told me that she understood and would look forward to crossing paths again in the future.
I set out in search of the adventuress, combing the crowds for her distinctive pith helmet and khaki uniform. I found her involved in a conversation with a very familiar looking gentleman wearing the snazziest looking pair of trousers I ever did see. I was indeed looking at Concordia’s own Fancypants, he was a tall man with an air about him that just chanted ‘classy’, he also wore a monocle like every other refined gentleman I’ve met so far. Unlike the other aristocrats though, I knew beforehand that Fancypants was the least priggish out of all of them.
I was unsure of how to approach this situation however, it would be bad form for me to just interrupt them in the middle of whatever arrangements they were discussing; something about the partial financing of her next expedition from what little I could make out amongst the buzz of general chatter. My decision was made for me though when the man spotted me and ushered me over with his jovial yet sophisticated accent.
“I say! Isn’t that the young lad who was your first rate companion from your last expedition Daring?”
“Who? Oh yeah… him, I don’t recall telling you I had a partner on my last trip” Daring said with suspicion, only sparing a short glance in my direction; still unhappy with me I take it.
“You seem to forget how well informed I am my dear! Don’t be bashful my good sir, come on over here and formally introduce yourself!” He beckoned with a pulling motion.
I obliged, but only because I already knew that Fancypants was a good guy. I waded past the constantly shuffling party goers and stood before the two of them.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance mister Fancypants, as you may or may not already know, I’m the guy who found himself caught up in Daring’s last escapade. Call me Zenith” I held out a hand which he proceeded to grab and shake energetically.
“Please, you can call me Nigel. Mr. Fancypants is my father’s name” He explained with a warmhearted chortle, “I must say, I find your choice of apparel to be…” He trailed off, searching for the correct yet polite description.
“Charmingly rustic?” I jocularly finished for him; he looked like I had just read his mind before bursting out into hearty laughter.
“A man after my own heart! You certainly know how to pick them Daring my dear!” He exclaimed between his hysterics, causing her to sputter in response.
“What are you talking about!?” She flustered, an intense blush appearing on her features.
“I saw that familiar glint in your eye whenever you look at him. It’s the same one my darling Fleur gave me before we became romantically involved!” He smiled like he solved a most entertaining puzzle.
“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about” She evaded, looking anywhere else but at me.
“I see, well perhaps I should leave you two to get reacquainted then? And do be sure to sign a copy of your next book for me when it comes out, you know how much I enjoy reading tales of your adventures don’t you Daring my girl?” She nodded timidly in response. Before excusing himself from our company though, he gestured me closer to him to speak his mind.
“A word of advice from an older man to one just in his prime, make sure the special women in your life know how much they mean to you” I was a little confused with how he worded that, but I nodded in agreement never the less.
He grinned roguishly before sauntering off and attracting a swarm of admirers in record time and vacating a major portion of the area we were in. All of whom were vying for his opinion on something or just brown nosing in general. Allowing me and Daring to have some alone time to ourselves as a heavy silence befell us.
“Wow… this is awkward” She broke the silence with an agitated sigh.
I slowly shook my head, “There are no awkward moments, just awkward people” I decided to address the metaphorical elephant in the room post haste.
“Listen Daring, I just wanted to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. It was insensitive and a dickish thing for me to do, but I will fervently maintain that Octavia and I did nothing that was not platonic in the strictest sense. Can you find it in you to forgive me for my other transgressions though?”
She looked upwards as if giving it careful thought, before looking back at me and smirking, “I think I can do that, and I believe you”
She then crossed her arms together before adding, “Besides, it’s not like you’d have the courage to make the first move anyway”
“Excuse me?” I spoke in a wholly besmirched tone.
“Yeah, you don’t even have the pepper to-…” Was all she had time to say before I swept her up into a passionate kiss, surprising her greatly before she relented and pushed back into it, humming in euphoric bliss all the while.
I broke the kiss and gave her a fierce grin, “Never talk smack about my pepper”
“Are you kidding? I should have done that a long time ago if I knew you’d react like that” She replied with a satisfied smile, leaning into our embrace as the stars sparkled overhead.
The next seven days passed by in what felt like half that time. There was never a dull day or night for me in the city of Concordia, between honing my skills with magic accompanied by Luna as my tutor during the early morning hours and moonlight trysts with Daring going about the metropolitan burg, even a couple of visits from Octavia as we chatted in the Royal gardens; I was quite a busy guy. Despite running all over the place and operating at the crack of dawn till well past midnight, it didn’t feel as if I was burning the candle at both ends. I just shrugged it off as some kind of Trifect stamina trait and carried on with the life in the fast lane.
All in all I felt… involved for a change, not just with my new commitments but with my life in general. No longer was I feeling malaise at the thought of just trudging through another day filled with meaningless banalities. I now had a direction to work with, even if the portents were ominous in nature. Despite my usual misgivings over repetitive established routines, each day was a unique and enjoyable experience in the grand capital city.
Speaking of unique, there was nothing quite like utilizing the forces of magic. I was very much elated by the fact that other than the need to have the power necessary on hand, spells were formulated using imagination and will; two things that I had abundant reserves of. I asked Luna once why the city even had a university for gifted Stellar Mages if harnessing magic was such a simple deployment of one’s own willpower. Her answer revealed to me much of the nature of Arcanians, that a firm resolve was something that every Arcanian actually had to struggle with in order to master; that even the slightest hint of doubt in one’s self could mean the difference between the successful casting of a spell and the backlash that results from magical feedback when the spell is unsuccessfully channeled.
Even the clans that didn’t actively cast magic needed to have a strong will in order to best make use of their abilities. So a Valkyrian that steadfastly believed in themselves and aimed to be swift in the air would fulfill their own beliefs much in the same way that a self-fulfilling prophecy functioned. For another example, if an Agrarian were to lose faith in their abilities, their inherent magic would regress and leave them feeling sapped of their strength and natural green thumb. It was something that made me ponder the psychological makeup of this world at large.
As for my newfound relationship with Daring? Well, we haven’t taken to calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend yet, but apparently she found the nickname ‘Zenny’ to be an appropriate counterpart to my ‘DeeDee’ for her. Whenever she wasn’t consolidating the necessary materials for her next expedition; ‘the big one’ she called it, we were palling around doing the things that a normal couple with a big city as their oyster would do. Walks through the communal park, hikes up to the peak of the mountain that Concordia was located upon, or even just aimlessly wandering through the city.
Of course, a lot of those activities ended up with me escorting a piss drunk Daring back from one of the local pubs to her interim residence in the city. She would often make inviting comments with a slurred voice for me to come inside, but I could never in good conscience take her up on them. She would sober up the next morning and apologize about her excessive binging on the hardier drinks, saying something about how dry the outside world tended to be and that she was just ‘stocking up’ on a good buzz. I would always be dismissive of it, but inside I couldn’t help but worry about her possibly self-endangering habits.
⁂
That’s not to say that there weren’t great times spent together, in fact just three nights after the garden party I was waiting at a fancy dining and dancing styled restaurant dressed in a nice tuxedo that the royal tailor managed to whip up for me (Nice guy, though he wouldn’t let me pay him for his work out of reverence for Celestia, who personally referred me to him). I was sitting there drolly thinking about how Daring would be catching everyone’s attention in an unexpected fashion by strutting inside with her safari getup and not a care in the world. So surprise surprise when instead I saw an exceptionally fetching looking woman wearing a black satin dress that hugged and accentuated every curve of her toned body approach my table with a characteristic jaunty grin.
“…Wow… you look absolutely stunning tonight” I complimented with complete candor.
I wasn’t the only one with their jaw on the tabletop; I saw plenty of other men eyeing my date with jealousy in their countenance and women who either chastised their dates for not paying attention to them or were also green with envy themselves.
“You really think so?” She said with a nervous simper atypical of her self-assured mannerisms.
“I know so, and everyone else here seems to share my opinion” I emphasized with a nod in their directions, Daring followed it furtively with slight distaste in her features.
“Normally I love being in the spotlight, but tonight should be just you and me. C’mon!” She pulled me out of my chair and back out into the city, heading for the docks where her ship was moored.
“Why are we heading to your ship?” I asked as I was dragged past bemused bystanders, curious as to her intent.
“I want to show you the best view of the whole city, from the air” She replied with an adventurous grin.
“Isn’t the whole leaving and re-docking thing a paperwork nightmare to deal with?” I asked, wary of the bureaucracy’s idiosyncrasies, especially those of its head executive who I had yet to meet.
“It won’t be a problem if we’re only gone twenty minutes and Gangplank knows how I sometimes like to take the Maverick out for a spin. Besides! Where’s your sense of adventure?” She spoke with a faux chastising tone.
I rolled my eyes but agreed anyway, “I’m all for it, but only because it’s you”
“That’s the spirit!” We boarded her vessel after covertly loosening the mooring lines. At this hour the docks weren’t very busy, with only a skeleton crew performing maintenance on the various other docked vessels and other upkeep tasks, so it was easy to get by unnoticed.
I stood next to the helm while Daring approached the wheel and removed the quatrefoil ignition key from a necklace she was wearing and inserted it into the wheel’s slot. Attempting to keep any undue attention on us to a minimum, Daring twisted the key in a way that guaranteed a slow spin up of the engines. We clandestinely slipped out of the docking areas before Daring fully fired up the engines and we whizzed into the night. We banked into a sharp U turn and cut power to the turbo props once we reached a sufficient altitude overlooking the city below.
I stood by the banister railing and took in the sight of Concordia from a bird’s eye view. The lights of the city were illuminating it in a way that I had never seen before, the nightlife in the capital wasn’t particularly active but there was enough activity going on that added to the visual panorama below. The valley beneath the city was also looking resplendent as it caught my attentions. Bathed in the light of the full moon, the river running through the verdant lands appeared almost silvery as its waters shimmered in the distance. A small cluster of lights was positioned in the distance, marking the location of a famous (infamous) village where the Element Bearers resided. I often wondered what its name in this world was, but dissuaded myself from becoming too embroiled in that school of thought.
‘Doubtless I’ll wind up there eventually, but tonight I shall think on it no longer’
I turned to the woman observing the view next to me and gave her an inviting smile as I held out my hand. This night was about us after all.
“May I have this dance?” I offered happily.
“You may, it’s a shame we don’t have any music though” She accepted with an equally merry grin as I led her onto the main deck where we had our first duet.
“That is where you’re wrong. Allow me to show you something cool this time”
I closed my eyes and brought forth a set of mental instructions I had committed to memory the morning before when I was experimenting with my magic. Holding my palms together, I began pouring my inner magic into the arcane contrivance until it was fully formed before summoning it with slightly dramatic flair. Hovering just in front of me was snow globe sized sphere that swirled and revolved with strands of white and bluish light. I smiled at my successful summoning while Daring stared at it appraisingly.
“I still haven’t quite registered the fact that you’re an actual Trifect, but you’ve certainly got the hang of casting magic quickly” She complimented at my elementary demonstration of conjuration.
“Do you like it? I call it the sound and sonancy spell or SASS for short. I originally wanted to name it the audio sphere spell, but the acronym didn’t work out” I explained with a humorous chuckle.
“So what does it do? Act as a portable record player?” She ventured a guess.
“That and more, it can play whatever I can think up so it’s rather versatile in its uses. I have the perfect song for tonight in mind too” I focused the mental command into the sphere and it changed colors in response as it began filling the air with a melody perfect for this date.
I took Daring’s hand and began to lead as we waltzed atop the main deck of the Magnificent Maverick with the twinkling stars just overhead. Despite her gung ho attitude, Daring let me command her movements without so much as a fuss. She looked happy enough just being held as we cavorted across the wooden planks, although that didn’t stop her from giving voice to some curiosities.
“So I never knew you could dance, you didn’t seem like the type”
‘She’s one to talk’
“I’m not, but I know just enough to passably get by at high societal functions. But it’s not so bad, as long as I have a dance partner like you at my side” I gave her my equivalent of a content smile.
“Let’s not get too sappy all right Zenny?” She replied with a jocose grin as I twirled her during one of the song’s crescendos.
“What about you? You seem to be holding your own pretty well for someone who abhors the nuances of high society” I questioned as I held her in a dip.
“For practical reasons, if I’m to garner any positive regard from patrons with deep pockets like Fancypants, I’ve got to at least know how to act like one”
‘When in Rome I suppose’
We continued to dance for a while longer until Daring felt that it was time to bring the mighty mav’ home to roost. Because we were not absent for an exceptionally long time, we crept back into port with no one else the wiser. After we secured the sky ship back to its mooring posts, Daring chose to be the one to blitz me with a sudden kiss. She broke it and gave me another one of those delightfully cheery smiles.
“I’m glad we’re together” She happily declared as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Me too Dee, me too” I replied with an equally satisfied smile.
⁂
A small upward wrinkle found its way to my lips as I reminisced about that particular night. I was currently alone in the training chamber furthering my arcane abilities. My tutor Luna had been pleasantly surprised with my progress, saying that the sound and sonancy spell I had created earlier was a completely new innovation in the Arcane arts; the likes of which had not been seen since the days of Starswirl the bearded. A wizened old fellow whose portrait was just shy of being the carbon copy of the wizard Gandalf from Lord of the Rings, the only discernible differences being the bell strung hat and the numerous glass like beads that Starswirl interweaved into his whitish namesake chin locks; each one marking an important event in his long and storied career as the official Archmage of Stellaria (The kingdom of the Stellar Magi before the founding of Arcania) and inventor of practical and functional spells.
As for my magic itself, I found that there were a good deal of benefits and limitations as to its usage. I couldn’t go more than forty five minutes of medium tier casting the day after the garden party, but managed an hour and a half the day afterwards, to even three hours the very next day. Luna explained to me that one’s personal magic reserves were not unlike a muscle, and that repetition was the key to developing it and fortifying it. I did this by repeatedly casting projectile spells and using the training room and its many dummies as a shooting gallery.
Although as a Trifect, I naturally had a drastically reduced learning curve due to my additional wellsprings of internal magic, so I suppose the rules that applied to Stellar Magi were significantly negated when applied to myself. Since there were only a handful in existence, Luna didn’t have much of a standard to compare it against, the normal parameters of what she thought were possible for me were steadily extending day by day. When I asked how much stronger Trifects were in their abilities on average when compared to the usual Arcanian, Luna told me that it tended to vary but that Trifects were at the very least five times as capable as a typical Arcanian (She was judging this based on my progression so far).
I also found out more regarding the nature of thaumaturgy and that it was intrinsically linked to emotion, strong emotions powering a spell gave it a significant kick. But it was also a very dangerous action, high emotional investment in a spell can make it very volatile and even increase the possibility if it breaking free of the control of the caster and causing major damages to both the user and everything around them. The analogy would similar to pouring combustible fuel on a fire, if you poured it all at once then the reaction would be very violent to all in close proximity. I once threw caution to the wind and channeled a pyro kinetic spell using my most hated memories. I nearly burned through the walls surrounding the training room before quickly shutting off the spell; I had only had the spell active for six seconds, significant kick indeed.
I also learned a few more things about my Tantō. According to Luna, it was a heavily enchanted object. The first and foremost of which was a ‘Notice me not’ enchantment that kept it all but invisible to the most perceptive of beings when sheathed, some kind of combat amplifying enchantment that augmented my fighting prowess in ways that guaranteed that I could hold my own against multiple opponents, and it also functioned as an ad hoc wand for rapid castings of spells (kind of like an Athame now that I think about it).
To make the most of my training in close quarters combat, Luna taught me how to conjure dueling opponents as well. Depending on how much magic I poured into the spell I could alter their choice of weapons, how many hits they could take before being vanquished, and even their competence in combat. I’ve had plenty of sessions using that spell and plenty of sore spots to go with it too, but I was getting better at facing close range opponents. The ones I had equipped with crossbows had a significant advantage over me though, something that I would have to find a crafty remedy for in the future; since my skill with projectile magic wasn’t quite fast enough yet to take on multiple ranged targets. The opponent conjuration spell was considered upper medium tier so it also made for a good magic endurance trainer.
My relationship with Luna had also markedly improved since that one Sunday morning. I had actually found out that it was getting close to Fright Night from her excited near ramblings during one of our magic training sessions, meaning that it was the month of October. I was somewhat confused since when I departed my world it was still March, but I shrugged it off and dismissed it as some kind of temporal discrepancy between worlds. Anyway, other than the magical training I was receiving from the Lunar Princess, we were also spending some time together in the realm of dreams. I paused in between my shifting of cyro kinesis to pyro kinesis spells to sublimate a block of ice I had flash frozen just moments before in order to recall the memory of one particular night’s dreaming.
⁂
Whenever I had achieved lucidity in my dreams, I always took full advantage of it. Unceasingly, it always happened in that blank void that I’ve taken to calling the ‘conception canvas’, as it was always ripe for new scenarios and ideas. And I, the dreamer would paint it like an artist would an empty portrait suspended on an easel. That night I was feeling like playing the role of a secret agent sent to obtain vital information held in locked up documents before proceeding to make a punctual escape filled with swashbuckling action that would make any double 0’seven agent bristle with pride. I was all but giddy with anticipation as I snapped my fingers and set up the scene appropriately. Modern buildings burst forth from the darkness as roads were laid down tetris style interspacing the gaps between them. I made the centerpiece of the city a grand casino that was decorated with so many lights that it could have put the entire Vegas strip to shame if it were actually constructed.
Content with the architectural décor, I then focused on populating the setting with various characters; adding civilians to the streets going about their business like they would in reality, cars that zoomed up and down the streets before backing up the lanes behind red stoplights, and of course the various patrons arriving at the casino in their fancy cars. Along a similar vein, I conjured up my own ride for the night summoning a sleek and speedy looking vehicle fit for a spy. Back home it would have only been a concept car but I’ll be battered and baked if it didn’t look amazing. Popping open the scissor doors and grabbing a chair, I pushed the ignition button to hear the satisfying startup growl of the five hundred and forty horsepower V10 engine housed behind the seats.
Grinning with delight I shifted into drive and floored it, the car shooting off into the roads like it had been kicked with a giant boot. Eager to put the car through its paces, I weaved in and out of traffic like there was a payload in the car that would go off if it ever fell below sixty miles an hour. It may have been the dream physics speaking, but my ride stuck to the road like a wad of gum, making it incredibly easy to cut in and out between the city traffic. Nodding to myself at the completed test run, I imagined myself up a shiny velvet tuxedo and striped slacks with pockets full of gadgets. It was time for the fun to really begin, but just as I was about to spin my ride around in the direction of the casino I heard a distinctive knocking sound coming from all directions.
“Come on in! The real fun is about to begin” I spoke and imagined the words, already knowing who was on the other end.
A coalescing of darkness in the passenger seat formed to reveal the Princess of the Night, who observed her surroundings with barely concealed stupefaction. Although she pushed aside her confusion in order to address me.
“Greetings Zenith, art thou pleased that we ‘knocked’ this time?”
I chuckled and imperceptibly shook my head, “Only you would take that request literally Luna. But I’m glad that you’re respecting my personal space anyway”
“What manner of transport are we occupying? It has no steeds pulling it” She idly commented, engrossed by the many lights and materials on the dashboard.
‘Oh Luna, you’ve so much to catch up on with your own world’s innovations. Let alone my world’s inventions’
“Using extremely antiquated terms, this is what is referred to as a ‘horseless’ carriage Luna, it has a self-contained engine powering it”
“I see” She said pensively, looking out the window as all the other automobiles passed by.
I gave her an appraising stare, “You seem to taking all of this in quite well, I was half expecting you to freeze up at the sight of so many lights invading your senses”
She looked vaguely insulted as if I had calumniated her honor, “We are of stronger mental faculties than you give us credit for Zenith” She stated with her nose held high in a haughty motion.
“Strong enough to avoid blasting a gaping hole in the wall where an activated toaster used to be?” I pointed out with a raised brow.
She stammered and her face went flush with emotion, “We told Tia to not breathe a word of that to anyone!” She hissed in frustration.
I couldn’t hold back a chuckle at her histrionics, earning another one of Luna’s famous glares for my slip up, “Don’t you worry Princess, your toaster killing secrets are safe with me”
“We should hope that they are. Our image as a monarch would suffer terribly if such secrets were to be made public” She professed with crossed arms and sniffed.
“Really?” I asked with a skeptical tone, doubtful as to whether such a trivial thing could do any more damage to a former Night Terror sovereign’s reputation.
“No… we are simply pulling thy leg, did it work?” She asked with a hopeful tone.
“You’ve a ways to go before you’re up to snuff with your sister’s level of ribbing, but it was a good try none the less” I tapped a special button on the wheel, getting a Siri like voice in response, causing Luna to search around the vehicle for the source.
“Input voice command” It droned.
“Activate Jarvis intelligence program” I commanded as we sped closer to our destination, the windshield then lit up with an information display; accompanied by the prototypical English accent of the classy artificial intelligence.
“What can I do for you sir?” It asked in a genuinely helpful tone.
“Give us the mission specs please” I politely asked, it may have only been a construct of a dream but that didn’t mean I could simply drop my manners.
“Of course sir” Jarvis complied and sent the data onto the screen, Luna was practically mesmerized by the high tech display.
“Your mission is to infiltrate the aptly named High Stakes Casino under the guise of a usual attendee, the casino is suspected of being used as a money racketeering front for the well-known extremist organization titled the Aces of Anarchy. If you were to find a way of retrieving sensitive information regarding the organizations activities around the globe, it would strike a major blow to the shadowy syndicate’s endeavors” An insignia of the organization was shown being crossed out.
Jarvis continued his briefing, “It goes without saying that the documents alluded to will be under intense security in the forms of both guards and alarm systems. Your objectives this evening are simple if not onerous: Infiltrate the casino which should be straightforward enough with the entrance tokens provided for you, proceed to gather any information you can regarding the whereabouts of the documents, gain possession of the data held within; whether directly or indirectly, and then promptly make your way to the pickup point at the harbor docks” A hologram depicting an open cargo container underneath the mammoth loading cranes marked our end goal.
“Right, as for my inventory?” I asked the machine.
“Obviously there will be screening at the casino’s entrance so firearms are out of the question, however for personal defense you have been equipped with a special reinforced obsidian blade that modern scanners will not detect”
“Obsidian?” Luna expressed with confusion.
“Indeed madam, obsidian has an edge so fine that some surgeons even prefer its usage in their scalpels over standard steel. It should give any blighters that come close a right nasty cut or two” Jarvis finished with a macabre chuckle, coming from the refined sounding A.I it ended up sounding more chilling than humorous.
“Neat, what else do we have?” I wanted to know what other gizmos my subconscious had decided to issue me with.
“In your front vest pocket should be a pocket crawler, it can be used as a means of surveillance for places where you otherwise couldn’t go. Its controls can be found via the crawler app on your wrist watch. It also has a camera function on it and should you stumble across any vital documents just asking for their picture to be taken, then you’ll know what to do” On the screen was displayed a rather spidery looking machine that had multiple photoreceptors dotting its body.
“Creepy, but effective enough” I stated with a shrug.
“And last but not least are the special contact lenses that come with x-ray function, probability counters, and a multipurpose heads up display. Those will help you blend in with the betting crowds until you can slip away for some good ol’ fashioned espionage” Jarvis then activated the lenses, my ‘vision’ lighting up with a display not unlike the one currently overlapping the windshield dash.
“Are all of your world’s spies this well-equipped?” Luna asked, clearly thinking on the implications of what she had seen.
“Only the cool ones” I replied with a cheeky grin.
“As a last reminder, I can be summoned using the distress function on your watch. Just activate it and I’ll come right quick to pick you up for an easier get away” The aforementioned watch lit up with an exclamation point icon adorning the glass screen.
“Sounds good to me” I turned to the Lunar Princess, “Do you want to be actively involved in this or just observe? I could alter it so that no one reacted to you”
She gave me an incredulous look, “We would be directly involved of course! We wish to see first-hand more of this world that your mind has so expertly crafted together”
We pulled up to the casino driveway in style, drawing the attentions of all the onlookers who couldn’t get access to the prestigious casino building. The scissor doors opened automatically with a showy venting of steam to announce our arrival on the scene. I exited my ride and ambled around the side to offer my hand to Luna and escort her like any proper gentleman would, her face briefly lit up but she accepted it in good grace as we began to walk down the red carpets to the entrance.
Photographers were scrambling over each other to get a good angle on the newest and most stylish couple to stride across their apertures. In real life this kind of situation would have been dreadful for me, but since this was a carefully set up dream I decided to roll with it. Luna was looking positively stunning with her light blue sparkling slit dress that drew plenty of attention to her marble smooth legs; I had to consciously resist the urge to admire them as we strolled down the crimson colored rug paving the way to the entrance of the casino.
Security was definitely not to be taken lightly, they had all the looks of a private military contractors being paid to stand around and look intimidating. Of course that’s pretty easy when you’re toting around large firearms and look like you have an itchy trigger finger. I passed Luna her token to enter that I had conveniently placed in another one of my vest’s pockets. Luna at first looked confused at what to do, but quickly followed my lead as I handed them to the guy manning the scanners. He visually appraised them before running them under something that reminded me of a barcode scanner, satisfied with their authenticity he handed them back to us and wished us a night of ‘fortune and excitement’
With the first objective out of the way, all we had to do was partake in various casino activities before possibly asking around for games located closer to the backrooms. Or we could just win enough games to automatically move up the ladders and I could ‘excuse’ myself for the restroom to do some surreptitious sneaking. I believed that going for the latter would be easier, not to mention I could show Luna just how people liked to gamble back home.
The main casino floor itself was styled after the Bellagio, with French and Italian styles blended together and illuminated with massive crystal chandeliers lining the ceiling. Various well to do individuals crowded around baccarat and blackjack tables and tested their luck against the house. Spotting a roulette table I urged my dumbstruck companion ogling everything in awe to follow me to the tables.
“Remember the scenario Luna, we start piling up the wins and attract the attentions of some of the bigger fish. Then I’ll find what we need and we can beat a hasty retreat”
“Oh how exciting!” Luna clapped her hands together, “And shall I act as your consort?” She gleefully spoke.
I scratched the back of my head in thought, “If you want I guess. The whole ‘eye candy’ appeal would work quite nicely into our dramaturgy and mystique theme”
“Excellent, let us commence with the theatrics post haste!” With that sonorous proclamation she latched onto me quite closely, attracting the attentions of some of the casino goers who looked on with covetous jealousy in their eyes. Meanwhile I was wondering if there was an ulterior motive for the sudden intimate contact.
‘Meh, just go with it dude’
And so our first batch of easy money was at the roulette tables with an inexpensive buy in. With my probability counters working full time to anticipate which pockets the ball would land in, we made some fairly quick and easy money. Before our win streak became suspicious we moved on to the next set of games and repeated the sequence until we were rolling in the credits. Luna became something of a personal cheerleader as she sat on my lap for most of the table games. It was difficult to deny that I enjoyed having her presence in my dream when she was adding so much fun loving enthusiasm to it.
With the vast amounts of cash that we raked in, we were abruptly approached by a concierge who asked if we were interested in playing some ‘High Stakes’ games upstairs. We agreed and were escorted to some gaudy looking poker room filled with shady characters that my mind randomly generated, one of whom look like the henchman Jaws with an eye patch, which just made me chuckle in amusement. I wasn’t really one for Poker games but the x-ray function on the contact lenses made it relatively easy to call everyone’s bluffs and check when their hands were better. It wasn’t too long before we began stockpiling a large stack of chips. Plus it was my dream, which meant that I was always dealt a decent hand. Soon enough, I began to fidget in my chair like I had one too many drinks and excused myself for the restroom by folding a hand, completing the act by mumbling about how they were crappy cards anyway.
Luna joined me after a couple minutes and we snaked our way down the luxurious looking hallways until we found an unmonitored office room that was empty and had an unlocked door. We entered inside and I began searching for a vent to make use of, it may have been cheating a bit but I already had the crawler preprogrammed with the casino’s internal layout. I tapped the map function on my watch and had the hologram projected onto a whiteboard next to the main desk.
“Alright Princess, now we are at objective three. So I’ll let you pick the room that the documents are contained in”
“Does that not defeat the purpose of finding out the difficult way?” She said skeptically.
“Not if you place it in a hard to reach place that’s absolutely covered in defenses, plus I couldn’t really imagine me doing anything but wet work in a secret agent fantasy, most casino goons aren’t witty enough for intelligent interrogation” I retorted, I was all about pursuing the action in my dreams anyway.
“Very well, and we are here?” She pointed to the orange dot on the map indicating our location, I responded with an affirmative nod.
“Then the documents shall be held here” She tapped a room on the other side of the casino, the one appropriately labeled ‘Vault chambers’.
“That should be fun” I dryly commented as I activated the pocket crawler, the disc shaped pocket mirror object sprung to life with its spindly legs and stood silently as though awaiting commands.
I dispelled the holographic map and activated the crawler function on my watch, a new holographic display with a screen and joystick was projected onto the flat desk surface where I was sitting. I took control of the crawler and had it infiltrate the ventilation systems, crawling past or disabling such defenses as laser trip wires and spinning fan ducts. Luna stood by and watched with growing fascination at the complexities that my subconscious had cooked up.
“Such advanced constructs your world has…” She observed out loud, making me scoff in amusement.
“These things do exist Luna, but not for the average person. Most of this stuff is just smoke and mirrors Hollywood type contrivances to make things more interesting”
“Does this Hollywood have anything in relation to Arcania’s Applewood?”
“I er... doubt it, they just share similar names is all” I had forgotten about that, but at least it’s not some horse pun.
I shook myself out of my mental tangent and focused on the crawler, it was growing ever closer to its target after traversing the half dozen ventilation junctions leading to the vault room. The crawler slipped between the gratings of the vent cover and crept along the ceiling panels like the spidery device it was before stopping in the middle to observe its surroundings. The vault chamber itself consisted of dozens of strong boxes, with the documents being held in only one of them. I sighed to myself and began perusing the isles using the crawlers drill function to penetrate the boxes and gain visual access to the contents held within using an extension cord with a camera attached to the line. I listed off the items held inside as I worked my way up and down the rows.
‘This one has gold bullion, this one has priceless jewelry, and this one has… a rubber chicken? My mind can be so random sometimes’
Eventually, I cracked open the right safe and beheld the papers within. A knock at the door followed by the sound of cocking guns told me that we had finally been discovered. I let the crawler do its photo work and send the data wirelessly to me before I had it self-destruct so it couldn’t be caught, and so the small explosion it created would draw attention away from us as we made our intrepid escape. Alarms sounded off and the members of the breaching party outside were distracted for a few precious seconds that we took advantage of by busting out the door and staggering the man behind it. I grabbed his pistol from its holster and emptied it into the other four witless goons too surprised to return fire before striking the man I had borrowed his gun from on the noggin and putting him under.
“Such lethal weapons, even our crossbow wielding soldiers cannot kill so quickly” Luna observed with a mix of admiration and aversion to the idea of handheld firearms.
“Yeah, well my people have had a history of impressive innovations in the development of lethal weaponry” I handed a pistol to her, which she eyed with detestation.
“We do not require such armaments. Our magic is perfectly capable of defending us”
“But that takes away from the pseudo realism!” I protested, but Luna would have none of it.
I gave up trying to make a secret agent out of her and refocused on our escape plan. The least subtle way out was though the front entrance which was probably in lock down, not to mention heavily guarded as well. Which left us with the options of making our own exit; I checked my vest pockets for anything that could assist in that and found a sizable block of C4 cleverly disguised as multiple cases of breath strips.
‘Wait, is my subconscious trying to tell me something?’ I thought, feeling a little insulted by my own self.
My companion and I set off for the loading docks in the back since Jarvis could pick us up there and it would make getting onto the roads easier overall. I grateful that Luna wasn’t wearing heels our this would have gotten a little more harrowing than I would have liked. I put down multiple targets on the way there, though to be honest they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed and they couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn from the inside.
‘Heh, just like in the movies’ I mentally chortled.
We made our way to the casino’s loading zone and past all of the crates stacked on the scaffolding to the metal gates where the semis would off load their cargo of casino equipment and other items. I set up the C4 block and was just about to insert the automatic blasting cap when I heard Luna gasp in surprise. I spun around with my gun held level as I took in the sight of the chief security agent holding the Princess in a hostage grip with the barrel of his pistol pressed firmly against the side of her head.
“Drop your weapon or the lady dies!” He threatened.
I did so reluctantly, kicking it away from myself as he additionally demanded and holding my hands up. The man loosened his grip on the Princess and exposed just enough of his neck to allow me to unveil the ace hidden up my sleeve. I aimed accordingly and flicked the switch on my wrist. The spring loaded mechanism launched my obsidian knife from its sheath and promptly created a large slit in the man’s jugular as it soared straight on through, which he weakly held before collapsing in a heap of blood and death. I walked up to the corpse to deliver a cliché but necessary post mortem one liner.
“Enjoy your severance package”
“How can you be so casual about killing? None of our subjects have had dreams this violent since… the time of my corruption” The Princess finished lamely, her last statement drawing her into a momentary bout of guilty introspection.
I shrugged noncommittally, “I played a lot of violent video games when I was younger, and it left a sort of taint on my imagination. I’m naturally not a violent person though, it’s not like I go seeking bloodshed or anything”
I walked over to the demolition charge and finished inserting the blast cap. Since it only had a ten second fuse time, I mentally commanded the scenario to pause before approaching Luna and gently cradling her hands in mine. Also summoning some cover for us as a good measure against the blast that was soon to follow.
“You shouldn’t always let the past sour your good mood Princess. That was another time and most importantly another you. Tell me, are you doing everything you can to make amends to those you have wronged? Even if it be only to their memory?” She meekly nodded, “Have you vowed to never again let the venom that seemingly ultimate power offers seep into your heart?” She gave a stronger nod this time.
“Then I say that makes you a penitent person Princess. Now c’mon, don’t you wanna see how secret agents make a high speed escape?” I gave her a roguish grin.
She looked at me with misty eyes and smiled, “We would very much like to see that Zenith”
“Splendid! You might want to cover your ears though” On cue the C4 detonated and created a large opening in the solid steel gate large enough for us to squeeze through. I tapped my watch a couple times in order to summon Jarvis, within a half minute or so of waiting our ride pulled up and swung its doors open to let us in.
“Hello again agent! I see you have the data we need, uploading it to the cloud drive now” The artificial intelligence cheerfully chirped as we took our seats.
“Yeah that’s peaches Jarvis, can we get going now?” I asked impatiently, chase scenes make me antsy for some reason.
“You are the driver are you not sir?” Was the machine’s riposte.
“Oh… right, buckle up Luna. Things are about get high octane” With that I slammed on the accelerator and sped out of the loading zone, heading for the city streets leading to the highway and from there our end goal at the city docks.
“Before I forget. Jarvis, initiate Spybreak program” The artificial intelligence complied and pure awesomeness filled the cabin of the car.
Of course, right at this time was when the bad guys appeared in the rearview driving menacing looking muscle cars armed with bull bars and low caliber machine guns. Guns that promptly started shooting once we were in range, but because this was a spy car however; most of the rounds were stopped by the cars advanced ballistic armors and bullet proof glassing. But the vehicle could only take so much punishment before its defenses failed. I felt like I needed to even the odds a bit and rack up another spy chase cliché by pressing the button that left a trail of razor sharp tacks in our wake. One unlucky car spun out of control as it tires popped and plowed into an empty city fabric store. I mentally kept the traffic to a minimum to reduce the hassle it would take to both dodge incoming cars and bullets.
“We still have four cars hot on our tail agent, may I make a suggestion?” The machine inquired.
“I’m all ears!” I shouted as I swerved onto the highway entrance ramp, our pursuers nipping at our heels and letting the lead fly whenever they could. Despite the dangers, Luna looked like she was having the time of her life, evidenced by the ecstatic grin on her face as we banked in between the various car lanes.
“It may be a bit risky, but the oncoming traffic lanes should weed out a couple of them” Jarvis ventured his radical idea.
“Sounds hazardous, I like it!”
I wrestled the wheel to the left and mowed down some traffic cones marking a break in the concrete highway divider as we began carving up the other side of the road English style. The rapidly approaching cars honking and deviating out of the way. As Jarvis predicted, two of our pursuers lacked the reflexes to dodge traffic and ended up getting into headlong collisions that ended their hunt for us early. The pursuer closest to us began trailing us directly before putting the pedal to the metal and ramming us from behind, the jolt rocking us in our seats and making a sizable dent in the rear bumper.
“You did NOT just damage my car!” I hit the switch on another defense mechanism to respond in kind, a couple flaps in the taillights opened up and unleashed their deadly payload of high explosive missiles. They tore into the offending car and lit it up in a colorful explosion of metal and fire. The remaining car observed what happened to its comrade and backed down, finally realizing that chasing this ride wasn’t conducive to its passenger’s health.
We reached the docks without further disturbances and drove into the open cargo container that promptly sealed itself up. Jarvis displayed a congratulatory ‘mission accomplished!’ message on the screen along with fitting credits music before the surroundings dissolved into the blank void fog once more. I sighed in self-satisfaction while Luna voiced her own gratification.
“Huzzah! We haven’t had that much fun since last Fright Night!” This time she clapped her hands together and jumped in place.
“I’m glad you had fun Luna” I spoke with sincerity before unexpectedly being embraced by the happy monarch.
“Oh we must do this again sometime; we had no idea that learning about your world’s oddities and customs could be so engaging!”
“Err right… customs. And anytime Princess, just don’t forget to knock!” I smirked at the excited woman as I returned the slightly awkward hug.
⁂
That was a few nights ago, I haven’t seen Luna since then because of some Fight Night preparations that she was making which involved visiting cities and towns all over Arcania to supervise festival arrangements. This left me to practice magic all by my lonesome, not that I really minded since I had a pretty good handle on it by now. Whenever I wasn’t in the training room slinging around magic, I was up in Twilight’s tower reading whatever books caught my interest. Including a few saucy ones that I found hidden behind more scientific books, I kept that information in reserve in case I ever felt like getting a rise out of the librarian once I met her.
All the pyro kinetic spells I’d been throwing around for the last few hours had really worked up a good sweat, I was just about to head to the palace washrooms and cool off when a scroll that smelled faintly of cotton candy materialized out of thin air and hovered directly in front of me. I sighed to myself at this inevitability and cautiously opened it, the distrustful part of me was fully expecting the scroll to suck me into it. But my fear was unwarranted as no such thing occurred once I broke the candy wax seal and unfurled the parchment to read its message. Inside were several crossed out words that were replaced others the writer felt were more ‘appropriate’.
Greetings Sir and or Madam
Your presence has been urgently requested by the eminent lord of the bureaucraticchaotic realm of paperwork and regulations. Please make your way to the southern bastion of the castle at your earliest convenience… preferably right now.
Signed
Your friendly avatar of chaos! (management)
The message then decided to self-destruct into a puff of confetti, followed by a party horn noise that reminded me of a specific portion of the second portal game where the main antagonist was trolling the player, as always. I was hoping to avoid meeting this particular character for several reasons, the first and foremost was that he was never to the point and always annoyed the crap outta me when I saw an iteration of him as Q.
But I suppose an entire week of not getting pulled into his madness was good enough for a start, although I had to actively avoid Blueblood who was snobbishly demanding to challenge the guy who the guards had started referring to as a ‘real Prince’ to a duel to the death. That guy also happened to be me, apparently not being a huge dick to everyone I crossed paths with and keeping to myself instead of ragging on every person I felt was beneath me was enough to start earning some respect from the palace guards. Or at least seem more of a Prince than that insufferable and spoiled prick could ever be.
‘Respect is a relative concept I suppose’ I mentally shrugged to myself before getting a move on to the southern bastion of the castle.
Living here for a week (as well as an ancient looking map I found in my tower) made navigating throughout the castle a cinch. It had an odd pattern about it once you got into the swing of things. I meandered down the many halls and corridors until I wound up in the portion of the castle dedicated to governmental matters. This section of the palace was always filled with a good deal of people going about their business or filing a concern of some kind. In a way it kind of reminded me of the Ministry of Magic; it was huge, crowded, and not particularly efficient in its dealings.
A couple of advance lookouts spotted me and pointed me in the direction of the lord of bureaucracy’s domain, which meant more stairs to my dismay. I begrudgingly ascended them and came across a wooden door with what sounded like muffled music coming from within. It opened itself up for me to reveal a fantasia like setting, shelves upon shelves of dusty files and papers being tended to by an army of animated brooms with arms.
Their movements were being coordinated by a strangely dressed man with a familiar snaggletooth jutting out from his lip and disarrayed grayish white hair on his head. His apparel consisted of a mishmash of coats, boots, business shirts, bathrobes, and an upside down dichromatic tie. The guy was a certain fashionista’s worst nightmare, and there he was happily humming away as he conducted his symphony of organized chaos. I was just about to turn heel and leave when I saw that the door that had let me in had decided to sprout legs and walk out of its own self (a very mind warping thing to witness).
“Leaving so soon? But we haven’t even conversed yet! Where are your manners my dear boy? Have you left them back in your home dimension?” The Lord of Chaos chuckled as he levitated his chair to face me.
“My apologies, mummy told me not to talk to strangers. And you sir are the very definition of strange” I quipped in response.
“Oh don’t be so contrary! Have a seat” A chair swept me up from behind and slid me uncomfortably closer to the man with red and yellow eyes.
“Can I interest you in refreshments? A chocolate milk of glass perhaps? It's nutritious!” He conjured up said drink and down the whole glass (quite literally) before crushing the remaining column of milk against his head like a soda can and tossing it into a waste bin that lit up with a ‘three pointer’ immediately afterwards.
“Err… I’ll have to politely pass on that. I was just wondering what you summoned me here for” I said with mild bemusement at his antics, the dude sounded just like John De Lancie.
“For many reasons! Most of them having to do with intense curiosity with this world’s first male Trifect and to see if he isn’t as much of a killjoy like his compeers”
“Is that all?” I raised my brow.
“Well… that and I wanted to ask a favor of you” He stared at me with that manic grin that grew more and more unsettling the longer I was in the same room as him.
“A favor?” I expressed with disbelief, “What could a powerful individual like yourself possibly need a favor with?”
“Correspondence of course! Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a person of my status to get a letter and a gift to his first and only real friend?”
“I’m guessing it can’t be too difficult, you have magic after all” I said with a healthy amount of sarcasm.
He frowned momentarily, “Normally I would agree with you, but since those buzz kill Princesses are monitoring my every expenditure of magic with absolute strictness, I’m not able to make use of such powers”
“You couldn’t just utilize the mail system in place?” I reasoned. I really didn’t want to become a glorified delivery boy for this guy.
“And have to fill out dozen and a half forms authorizing its delivery and evaluation for any errant chaos magic that could wreak havoc at any time? Not to mention having to wait weeks for it to finally be sent out? I think not” The chaos man groused with considerable irritation before literally turning his frown upside down.
“Of course, there’s nothing in the rules saying that I can’t make use of a third party to deliver it for me!”
“What makes you think I’ll be leaving Concordia any time soon?” I regarded him with ample amounts of suspicion.
“I believe a certain Princess will be notifying you soon enough… among other things” He wore that devious grin yet again.
“And does that have anything to do with you per chance?”
He held up a hand to his chest in mock surprise, “Moi!? Of course not, she was going to send you off anyway. I merely decided to alter the way she was going to tell you by slipping something into her morning tea”
At the look of alarm on my face he hastily added a corollary, “Nothing that would be harmful for her, scout’s honor! It would merely alter and enhance existing sentiments she has regarding you” The mischievous grin plastered all over his face did not make me feel any more reassured.
Anticipating my next question he shook his finger, “Ah ah ah! You’ll have to find out for yourself buddy boy! So whataya say? Will you help out a poor overburdened Lord of Chaos keep in touch with a good friend?” He flashed me a pearly smile, although the snaggletooth kind of took away from its charm.
“Since you asked so nicely, sure” My nice guy disposition won out over my reasonable distrust of the wacky bureaucrat.
He laughed heartily, “I knew you were different! Much more agreeable than those old nags I’d say” He snapped his fingers and an envelope and a calendar appeared in front of me which I took hold of.
“In what bizarre world would a calendar make a great gift?” I voiced my criticisms.
“Meh, it’s the thought that counts. I couldn’t really think of anything she wanted so I randomly selected something, and that something was a calendar. Is that a problem?” His censorious stare could have penetrated solid steel if he meant it to.
“Nope, just thinking out loud is all” I innocently stated as I put the items away on my person.
He chuckled, “I know exactly what you mean, now off with you! I’m busy doing the fish stick and it’s a very delicate state of mind!” He snapped his fingers again and the chair I was sitting on lifted off like an ejection seat out of the chamber’s open skylight, gravity soon caught up with it and it began descending back to Earth.
I summoned my wings to avoid being dragged into the plunge and gently glided back down to the palace grounds. I landed with gracefulness and shook my head, muttering to myself about nutty chaos avatars. I was dusting myself off for good measure when my name was called by one of the palace servants. I was told that my presence was requested by the Solar Princess and that I needed to get there sharpish. I warily agreed and took off in search of Celestia’s balcony, keeping my wits about me as I landed.
Her balcony doors were opened and a strange scent that I couldn’t quite place drifted past my nostrils. Whatever it was, it was aromatic and set off more than a few warning alarms in my head. Against my better judgment, I made my ingress into the monarch’s room. I didn’t instantly regret it, quite the opposite actually. Sprawled seductively across a large floor cushion was the Princess, who looked like she was eagerly awaiting my arrival. She still had her royal regalia on but her outfit was much more revealing, consisting of a nightgown that covered just enough but left plenty of room for the more active imagination to fill in the rest. She was also missing a brassiere, which I was very quick to take notice of. She could have competed with Aphrodite herself for the title of ultimate seductress with the sheer sultry aura that she was radiating.
“Hello handsome, come to pay your monarch a visit?” She sensually spoke with a lascivious grin.
“I’m pretty sure you requested my presence Princess” I said as I fidgeted in place, whatever was in that infuriating incense was slowly eroding at the fortress of my integrity.
“You look anxious, why not sit here by the fire with me and relax? Allow me to relieve you of those bothersome clothes” She suggested as she patted the spot next her, it did look pretty inviting…
‘No! Dammit, I’ve got to get out of here before I lose the coherency to do something about this!’ With some considerable effort I turned and made for the entrance I came in from when a golden aura slammed it shut and locked it tight. The aura also shielded the rest of the room against any teleportation attempts as well, which had me all but trapped me in the clutches of the insanely hot ruler right at that point.
“Oh you’ve decided to stay? How absolutely wonderful!” She got up from her spot and slinked closer to me, I immediately looked upwards to avoid the spell her ample bosom would have placed on me if I beheld them.
“Cease being so modest Zenith! Do I not entice you? I know you certainly have an appeal about you” She whispered in my ear as she made a teasing grasp at my manhood, making me inhale sharply.
“You’re not in your right mind Princess; I should leave before we do something we’ll both end up regretting” I tentatively spoke, my moral resistance was putting up a hell of a fight but if I didn’t do something soon it would eventually crumble.
“And just how would you do that? It would appear as if this room has been magically shielded against all conventional exits” She confidently spoke while gazing into my eyes with a sly leer. She looked like a predator about to pounce on her next meal… namely me.
“I suppose I’ll just have to get creative then” I remarked with a husky growl as my mind worked overtime to find a way out of this fustercluck.
I didn’t have a brain blast but the resourceful boys in the vamoose department came up with a crackerjack and radically different escape plan. I focused all of my considerable arcane reserves into a dual spell, one would reverse the effect of gravity on my body and the other would temporarily make me ethereal and therefore intangible. In my desperation though, I may have put a bit too much power into the reverse gravity spell, because once I cast it I shot into the ceiling and the subsequent sky like I had a jetpack attached to me.
Regardless of anything else, I was finally free of the confinements of the temptress currently in the guise of the laudable Princess of Arcania. I pumped my wings for all they were worth to put some distance between myself and the lusty sovereign. The frustrated screech that assaulted my ears only moments afterwards simply provided more motivation for me to get the hell out of there.
‘I swear the next time I run into Discord I’m going to strangle him with his own necktie!’ I swore under my breath as I took in the sight of the Princess giving chase.
I flew faster than I ever had before as the Princess tracked my every move across the premises of her castle, I swooped in between the many spires and towers hoping to shake her off but the millennia old monarch had a good deal more flight experience than me and was steadily catching up. I needing to find a way to return her to her senses or I would be assailed by the crazed woman. Despite the predicament I was in, I couldn’t help but wonder what the expressions of the guards patrolling the airways were as they watched me play predator and prey with their half-naked and clearly horny liege.
I had no time to further that line of thought as the Princess was only a few scant feet away from her prize, I had one last idea that I hoped would save my bacon as I descended into a death dive towards the waterfalls that cascaded from underneath the castle. My last gambit was admittedly last ditch but I was out of viable options. I passed through the falls and was drenched in its cold waters, unfortunately I was all out of room to maneuver and the equally doused Princess behind me caught me in a tackle.
We tumbled onto the walkways lining the grottos next to the falls and wound up in a rather precarious position with me being pinned to the floor and her Royal Majesty straddling yours truly. My eyes snapped shut; I gulped nervously and congratulated myself for the admirable effort before accepting my fate of a potentially fractured pelvis. That was when I heard the confused if not lovely voice of the Princess speak to me.
“Zenith? What just happened? And why am I soaking wet?”
‘Context is key, context is key, context is key’ I repeated my mental mantra to avoid getting aroused before explaining to the Princess that she was recently besotted with me, keeping my eyes shut all the while.
“To make a complicated story short, sweet, and simple; your minister of the bureaucracy slipped something into your tea this morning that made you get the hots for me. You lured me into your chambers and tried seducing me with your scantily clad wiles; I escaped and was chased by you thoroughly, with my last and only idea of returning you to your senses with cold water appearing to have succeeded”
“I see… I’ll have to have a long and very rigorous talk with him”
“Slap him across the face with a mackerel, it’s what I’d do” I recommended, still smarting about the situation the madman had just put me through.
“I don’t think the mackerel deserves to be wasted on the likes of him; perhaps I’ll just double his workload instead” She said with a melodious giggle.
‘Oh, burn…’
“Uhm… Princess? You can get off of me now”
“Hmm? Oh! Of course, my apologies Zenith” She removed herself from my person in a suspiciously hesitant manner.
“Are you decent? I don’t want to intrude upon your modesty” My eyes flashed with a golden light and I opened them, the monarch of Arcania was clothed once more in her regal Stola. I sighed in relief, the ordeal was finally over with.
“I must commend you, Zenith. I’ve not met many individuals who would turn a blind eye at the chance to behold their Princess’s physique”
I got up and dusted myself off for the second time that day, “I was raised better than that your Highness, though that isn’t to say that I wasn’t sorely tempted. You are an incredibly beautiful woman as you no doubt know” I may have been imagining it, but I could have sworn that the ghost of a blush tinted her cheeks.
“I am aware, but I appreciate your input regardless of that. My most virtuous and noble Prince” She beamed a charming smile my way.
“You know I don’t much care for that title right? Do I have to be officially coroneted? Because I’d really like to skip that and keep my sense of discretion intact”
She apologetically shook her head, “I can’t keep the knowledge of your position as a Trifect hidden forever Zenith, eventually you will have to be recognized as one of Arcania’s heads of state”
I hummed with malcontent, “But do I have to be broadcasted at one of those big ceremonies where everyone will have their eyes on me?”
“I know from your memories that you shun public attentions directed towards you, but you can’t keep to yourself all of your life Zenith. It’s not healthy and it is not the Arcanian way, one day you will have to step into the light”
We had been having memory exploring sessions in my mind many times over the course of the week, with Celestia learning more and more about me as a person. But this was the first time that she had voiced her opinions on what she witnessed. I wasn’t happy by any stretch, but I relented to her judgment.
“Very well Celestia, I’ll go along with it. But if I have to get dolled up or anything like that then I’ll disappear faster than those desserts that I fetched for you the first day we met” The monarch had the good grace to look somewhat embarrassed before nodding in concurrence.
“Your memories also revealed something I found highly discouraging. Your lack of firm friendships throughout your life is only outclassed by your indifference to your own social destitution” She almost sounded mournful, as though the idea were just as dolorous as the weapons of mass destruction that my people could annihilate each other with the mere figurative push of a button.
“I’m more of a solitary person anyway, so what?” I asserted, knowing where this conversation was going but being difficult anyway.
“Solitude will get you nowhere fast Zenith, by depriving yourself of fulfilling relationships with others you’ve not only been missing out on meaningful bonds with people, but the magic that flows through this land as a result of that and keeps us prosperous and strong” She explained, gesturing to the grassy valleys below and more subtly to a certain village in the distance.
“The magic of friendship right? Forgive me for sounding like a complete cynic, but I’ve never believed in that malarkey before and I still don’t now” I crossed my arms together for additional defiance.
“Then I suppose my prudent decision to send you to Magiville to remedy that outlook was not erroneous”
‘Is that what it’s named here? It’s almost as eponymous!’
“I guess I can’t fight you on this” I sighed exhaustively, “When do I get shipped out?”
“My faithful student has been busy with her studies and reports, but I believe she should be free to receive you the day that Fright Night occurs” That wasn’t for a few days at least.
“You’re not gonna make me write friendship reports are you?” I inquired with my most downtrodden expression available; I even got my lip to quiver for additional effect.
She laughed well naturedly before speaking, “You won’t, but Twilight will be sending me reports of your progress. She was similarly hermetic before learning the importance that good friendships instill in one’s life. You’ll be in capable hands I assure you. Now come along, my guards will be wondering what happened to us and I don’t want them to stress too much over our absence while we converse at their expense”
As I walked with her to the stairs leading back into the castle I couldn’t help but wonder. I couldn’t just be staying with Twilight to learn about the ‘wonders’ of friendship, I’d no doubt rotate with each of her friends to learn more about their virtues and how to be similarly inclined.
‘Does this mean I have to bunk with members of the main six?’
The last few days before my ‘transfer’ to Magiville were spent tying up loose ends, so to speak. I had progressed far enough with my magic to be considered proficient with its usage, so I spent my remaining time fostering my few social connections. One of the first things I did in that respect was to visit Octavia for a friendly meet up at one of the local coffee shops and notify her that I was being sent southwest on ‘Royal Business’. It may have been dressing the actuality up a bit, but it was more or less the truth. She seemed a bit downtrodden and nodded in understanding, but cheered up when I assured her that I would visit the city now and again, she did ask for one last thing however.
“Do you think we could…?” She trailed off, uncertain of her inquiry.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked as I set my iced mocha on the tabletop.
“Would it be asking too much if we could go to my place and…?” Again she trailed off, as if she was going to ask something scandalous.
‘I hope she’s not asking what I think she’s asking’ I worriedly thought.
“Please Octavia, don’t leave me in suspense” I spoke in a gentle but urging tone as I looked her in the eyes.
She steeled herself before making her request, “Would it be alright if we were to go to my home and perform a duet together?”
‘Oh good, it was a false alarm’ I almost sighed in relief, feeling as though I had just dodged a serious bullet.
“Of course we can!” I replied with a positive grin, “What brought this on if I may ask?”
“Ever since that one night at the lounge, the idea of being part of a harmonious sync event has been lingering in my thoughts. Its incessant tugging at my mental faculties has become quite bothersome, and I felt the only way to banish such desires would be to entertain them. You seem to be able to bring them about with casual ease, so I thought it would be reasonable enough to ask if I could share one with you…if that’s acceptable with you” She timidly added, even after I had just agreed.
“Yeah that’s fine” I brushed her worries aside with a short sweeping motion of my hand, “I remember you telling me that you didn’t have a piano, but is an acoustic guitar missing from your inventory as well?” I inquired with utmost contemplation, the clouds of thought concerning what sounds I was going to mix with her cello coalescing in my mind.
“I believe I do actually. That spark in your eyes tells me that you already have something in mind?” She correctly assumed as she flicked her satiny hair.
“Yes I do, and I think you’ll like it too… so long as you don’t mind singing along”
“I am unsure about that stipulation. I’m much more of an instrumentalist than a vocalist”
“Nonsense, you have a lovely voice” I countered with complete sincerity as I sipped at my delicious drink. I wasn’t much for caffeinated drinks, but I was a sucker for iced coffee.
It wasn’t until then that I realized that my comment had elicited a massive blush from the musician, who had visibly withdrawn into herself at the compliment and absentmindedly began caressing her long dark strands of smooth hair.
“You really think so?” She tentatively said, looking as if she was not expecting my positive opinion on her honey sweet voice.
“I know so. Why do you look so surprised? Has no one ever told you this before?” I remarked in confusion, one of the first things I noticed about her was her melodic voice after all.
“No…you would be the first, the only praise I would ever receive would be on those rare occasions where I would perform solo” She explained.
“Well that’s an outright travesty!” I exclaimed with gusto. There’s nothing quite as frustrating as having an under-appreciated talent.
“It doesn’t bother me really. I’ve just never had someone ask me to sing with them in concert”
“Well these harmonious sync events don’t seemed to be concerned with that, just pour out your heart into the words and the magic behind the music will take care of the rest” I explained, remembering what little I could of those near hypnotizing moments.
She seemed incredulous at my description of what was needed, “Is that really all that it takes? It’s so…simple” I couldn’t tell whether or not she was let down by its unchallenging requirements.
“Disappointed?” She slowly shook her head in response.
“Not at all, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so straightforward”
“Do these things not happen in the orchestra?” I asked with a raised brow.
“There are moments when I feel that the harmony we achieve is similar, but I suspect the lyrics sung in the sync event are the final component needed to reach complete euphony” She hypothesized as she looked upward in deep thought.
“Well I’d be happy to bring one about with you” I gave her an enthusiastic grin.
“Thank you, this means a lot to me” She smiled back at me.
“Shall we be off then?” She nodded and we departed the café after leaving the barista a nice tip for her diligence in remembering our specific orders.
The walk back to her place was spent wordlessly blending into the crowds, made much easier by my recently acquired formal attire in the form of a black suit jacket and slacks. I wasn’t much for that kind of fashion, but at least there were no more haughty remarks about my clothing from the local snobs. One of the reasons I had to be grateful for the upcoming change of scenery was that I’d no longer have to put up with the conceited crowds of Concordia, although the local newspaper’s reports of strange events occurring almost once a week down in Magiville was cause for some concern. I guess it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe that the odd happenings of the equine oriented countryside town would translate over into its Arcanian counterpart. Still, I wasn’t someone who handled crazy small town hijinks very well, but with my impending ‘assignment’ I would have to adapt quickly if I wanted to prosper. In my musings, I had hardly noticed that we had arrived at Octavia’s place until she started waving a hand in front of my face to get my attention.
“Zenith, are you alright? You’ve been standing there with that pensive look on your face for the past minute” She expressed with slight concern.
“I’m fine, just thinking is all” I brushed away her misplaced concern.
“Is it about your business in the valley?” She astutely inferred.
“Indeed” Was my short response.
“Would you feel better discussing it?”
“It’s nothing I won’t be able to handle” I did not feel like imparting any more of my thoughts on the matter, she looked unconvinced but after seeing my insistence on keeping it to myself she let it go. We ascended the stairs and entered through her apartment door, the fragrance of burning autumn scented candles greeted my olfactory senses this time.
“Do you always buy scented candles?” I asked, remembering the lilac aroma from the last time I was here.
“It’s one of my guilty pleasures, with the added benefit of being one of my sources of inspiration whenever I feel like making use of my cello” She explained as she rummaged through a closet before dredging a dusty acoustic guitar from its depths and handing it over to me.
“This thing hasn’t seen a lot of use has it?” I rhetorically stated, wiping away the thick skin of dust that had accumulated over the body surface with a dampened rag that I quickly borrowed from the kitchen.
“I’m afraid you’re correct in that assumption, one of my old academy acquaintances in the orchestra thought it would make for a good gag gift” She said with some disdain, clearly not amused by the notion.
“This was considered a gag gift? This is a decent guitar!” I exclaimed with disbelief, the guitar itself was a concert style cutaway with a rosewood fret board and a solid laminated maple tone wood body. This well-made instrument would have sold for more than a few hundred dollars back home.
“Something that I also have no talent for playing, therefore I think that its grievous state of disuse can be forgiven” She said as she strode over to the stand where her precious cello was kept and began tuning it.
I followed suit and gave the guitar a soft strum, the twang of standard tuning greeted my ears and informed me that I needed to adjust the turning pegs until it was appropriate for the song I wanted to use in the sync event. Octavia finished with her pre jam session inspection and was awaiting my input as she sat on the couch beside me.
“So how do these events usually occur? Are there some kind of preparations that I must undertake to achieve the state of Harmony necessary for our duet?” She inquired with expectant undertones in her voice.
“Leave it all to me. When I initiate the song, the surrounding magic will automatically flow through you like a conduit and you’ll know musical synchronicity like no other” I explained this based on my earlier observations on the subject.
“Okay then. I’ll let you take the reins and trust you completely on this” She let out an anxious sigh and relaxed her posture.
Without further words I began plucking at the strings of my instrument, filling the room with its rich tonal qualities. I didn’t even realize that I was tapping my foot against the floorboards in a steady rhythm. Something about the smooth progression of single notes ringing together with a wistful and almost melancholy impression struck a chord in me (No pun intended). Fingerpicking wasn’t something that I was excessively good at, but the ambient magic in the air didn’t seem to care. I strummed and picked at the strings like I was a professional pizzicato player. I didn’t even need to look at Octavia to see that she was being equally drawn in by the hypnotic feeling of the music permeating the atmosphere.
The lyrics to the song were desolate and beautiful at the same time, about leaving someplace close to you but making a promise that you might come back someday for those who would wait for you. It was also fitting given the time of year, knowing that soon that ‘Winter shall howl at the walls’ before too long. When it came time for Octavia to lend both her voice and the voice of her instrument to the music, she performed her role masterfully. Her vocal pitch complimented mine in a sort of dance, swirling and meshing together to create a mood filled with emotion. I couldn’t decide which one was more pleasant to the ears, her soft voice or the resolute firmness of her cello’s chords. The last notes of the song ended with a hopeful cadence as we hummed its final moments in contentment. It wasn’t hard to believe that we formed an even closer connection together after our duet, having established some manner of an unspoken mutual agreement.
“That was incredible” The musician spoke in an awed tone, having finally experienced her first musical sync event with me as its instigator.
“Happy to finally provide you with the experience you’ve sought for so long” I sincerely stated as I handed the guitar back to her.
She held out her hand in a stopping motion, “Keep it, you’ll make better use of it than I ever will”
“That’s most generous of you Octavia, you have my gratitude” I expressed my appreciation with a slight bow and a hand to my chest, something that I emulated from the Sith council’s demonstration of respect.
“On the contrary. You have mine, that was a duet that will forever be imbued in my memories” She smiled at me as she put her cello back on its stand and the bow in some kind of attachable sheath.
“May I ask what the name of that particular piece was?” She inquired further.
“A song called Promise, written by a man who had a fondness for the fall weather” I told her as I folded the strap of my newly acquired guitar over my shoulders. I was about to excuse myself and take my leave for the castle when I felt a hand wrap itself around my arm. I turned around to see Octavia with a rather vulnerable look in her eyes.
“One last question before you go” Her scrutinizing gaze bore into my very being, “Who am I to you Zenith?”
The way she phrased it to coincide with the lyrics that we just sang was not lost on me, but I had no time to mull it over since she was anxiously waiting for my answer. So I did the only thing I could in that situation, I spoke from the heart.
“Octavia Philharmonica, ever since I’ve met you in that Jazz restaurant that one night when I first arrived in this city, you have been nothing but an absolute joy to be around. From the way you generously offered your home to someone you hardly even knew, to just imparting me with this guitar. I know that you didn’t have much use for it but it was still a magnanimous thing to do anyway. You are also quite charming and dare I say, stunningly beautiful” There was that adorable blush from her again, “Those times where we spoke about life’s various foibles in the castle gardens were a much needed and appreciated reprieve from my exacting obligations in the palace. When I leave this fair city for the valley below, you will be one of the very few people I can honestly say that I will sorely miss” I genuinely explained, Octavia was practically hanging on every word I said, but still looked unsatisfied as evidenced by her next statement.
“That’s very touching of you to say Zenith, but how would you label our relationship?” Her bluntness was not making this easy for me.
“Before I tell you that, may I return the question of who I am to you?” It may have seemed like a ploy to buy some time, but I was legitimately interested in what she thought of me. She didn’t even have to give it time to quantify how she saw our relationship.
“I’ll admit that when I first saw you approaching that stage, I wasn’t expecting much more than you to make a fool of yourself in front of everybody” Her face went flush with embarrassment at the deadpan stare I gave in response to that, “But then you started playing that magnificent music. It was so charged with passion that I couldn’t help but yearn to discover more about the man who brought it about with such emotion as to put the entire audience quite literally under its spell”
She fidgeted in place a bit as though she was ashamed of something, “Did you know that I approached you on a whim?” I shook my head in response, “Well I did, of course that may have just been the chardonnay speaking for me that night”
“You were inebriated the first time we spoke? You certainly didn’t seem tipsy” I remarked in confusion. I was also a tad disappointed that both the working class women I had come to know recently both had a penchant for being intoxicated in my presence. A small egotistical part of me insisted that they were intoxicated by my company, but I slapped it silly and shoved it in the iron maiden that was known as humility.
She nodded, “I hide it well, it’s a skill I’ve refined over years of entertaining the musty lot that considers themselves the aristocracy of this city” She punctuated her opinion of the high born by giving a contemptuous sniff and folding her arms together, I would considered her pout cute but I realized that I was getting off topic.
“Is that all? I was just some guy who your mind deemed to be interesting under the influence of alcohol?”
“Of course not! You make me sound so callous when you look at it that way, I was still coherent enough to pick up on the fact that you were flirting with me in the first ten seconds we conversed” She almost accused, but she didn’t put enough ire in it to make it sound like genuine distaste.
“That was just me breaking the ice, I really wasn’t expecting anyone to find me intriguing enough to engage face to face contact with. Besides, I was nothing but honest with what I told you the first we met”
“I know. Another one of the things that I truly admire about you is your sincerity, which is free of any ulterior motives. You are one of the few men in this city that can look upon me not as someone they could coerce into taking advantage of using their status or wealth, instead you see me as an actual person. And the morning when you soothed my worries about you being yet another insufferable noble who would have seen me as a tool that could simply be disposed with like a piece of common rubbish only reinforced my belief that you were someone special, you even expressed your desire to know me further and establish a genuine relationship with me… something that no one has outright told me before” She glanced down before looking me dead in the eyes, “That was when I realized that I was falling for you”
‘This just got more complicated than I would have liked’ I groused, who in their right mind would ever want to be with a sardonic cynic like me?
“I’m extremely flattered by how you feel for me, and had I not just established a romantic relationship with a certain intrepid explorer, I would have been more than happy to connect myself with you in that respect”
At that she visibly sunk, slumping into a disheartened pose that I knew all too well, “So you’re one of the monogamous types then” Her wording confused me greatly.
“What do you mean by monogamous types? I thought that’s how most traditional relationships naturally occurred?”
“I keep forgetting that you’re actually from another land, do you really not know about Arcania’s socio-relational norms?”
“Enlighten me”
“It may be less pronounced here in the grand capital, but there’s a distinct deficit of eligible men for every woman to have to herself throughout the Kingdom. While there are indeed some individuals who prefer to fully devote themselves to one partner, the vast majority of men are all but compelled to take on multiple partners. This means that there won’t be as many lonely women out there with the additional benefit of also ensuring that the population stays at stable levels” She explicated, sounding as if she had memorized the line out of some schoolbook.
“Wouldn’t that mean that a lot of people here are closely related?” I let out, the biologist in me was mulling over the idea of such a homogeneously mixed society.
‘Then again, Vsauce taught me that everyone back home were at least fiftieth cousins in kinship to each other’ I immediately derailed the next line of thought, knowing that the implications involved were a tad unsettling.
“There are a lot of people here who have many half siblings because of this, yes” She affirmed for me.
“So men here can form an assemblage of paramours and its not frowned upon?”
“I believe the polite term would be a harem” She corrected with a huff.
“I have so many questions regarding that subject, but I’ll have to hold off on them for now” I’d never imagine that aspect crossing over here, so this whole revelation was an eye opener.
“Does what you know now change your stance on what I said?” She implored with a hopeful spark in her eye. Instinctively I would have said no by default, having been raised to find that ‘special someone’ and spend the rest of my life cherishing them, but I couldn’t in good conscience just flat out refuse Octavia, I’d feel like a heartless asshole. As it was, I was very conflicted with myself, so I settled for a compromise of sorts.
I sighed in indecision, “I need time to give this some thought, even if I said yes I wouldn’t be the only person you’d have to convince. And from what I know of Daring, she seems like she wants me all to herself”
Octavia’s eyes widened once I mentioned her name, “You’re in a relationship with the Daring Do? The one with her own book series detailing each and every one of her fantastic adventures as she braves strange and exotic dangers in the name of recovering ancient and mysterious relics from times long since passed?”
Despite myself I chuckled in amusement, “That’s her alright, are you a fan?”
“I absolutely love her adventure novels!” She gushed, complete with the whole balled fists held at neck level. The Brony in me thought she was going for the ‘so awesome’ face for a brief moment.
“Be sure to check out her next addition to the series, it’ll be a good one” I suggested with a somewhat self admiring grin.
‘And not just because yours truly is a supporting character’ I thought instead of speaking, I’m not quite as modest on the inside but I have to keep up appearances.
“I most certainly will, and to think that you actually know her! I have so many questions that I want to ask you about her, but I suppose I’ll also have to put them on hold won’t I?”
“Yeah” I then took her hands in mine, “Listen Octavia, I’ve got to go deal with some other things before I leave the city. But I want you to rest easy knowing that I’ll definitely be thinking about your proposal and discussing it with Daring” I engaged in one of those cheesy romantic novel clichés and gave her hand a kiss, eliciting one last blush from the flustered woman.
“Farewell, my lady Octavia”
“Goodbye Zenith, may fortune and fate smile upon your endeavors” She spoke with a longing tone before whispering to herself in a voice that my sharpened senses could still easily pick up on as I made for her door with my new guitar in tow.
“And may it bring us together as well”
The latch shut with a click that resounded throughout the silent hallway. My mind was working like clockwork trying to fully digest everything that had just happened, I always had a faint inkling as to what Octavia had felt towards me but hearing it for myself did not do much to soften the shock. After the initial daze had worn off, it then came time for tense rumination. I hadn’t the exiguous idea that men here were dutifully expected to take to having more than one spouse, and I still had some trouble fully believing it. That’s when Fancypant’s words of advice recited themselves in my head and reminded me that Octavia was not duping me in the slightest. I mean, how was a guy supposed to reconcile the wants of the gal he was in a relationship with, to the wishes of another who’s eye he had somehow caught? I shook my head in an exhausted motion; this was just too much for me to process all at once. So after forcing all of my doubts and insecurities to the back of my mind, I made my way back the castle’s entrance gate.
This was the last I would see of Concordia for a while, so to guarantee that I got the most out of it, I took the long way and kept my pace sedate. I may have gotten a few stares from the locals as always, although I imagine that the guitar did clash with my current attire somewhat. But given how much I valued the opinions of the bourgeois patrons of the city, I continued on as if I was blissfully unaware. It was a lovely morning for a Tuesday, this high up meant that the cloud cover was minimal and the Sun’s rays beamed down upon the pristine buildings that made up the infrastructure of the metropolitan surroundings. I returned every friendly wave that was sent my way by the city’s more modest denizens who were going about their business or just ambling about like I was.
Sadly, all leisurely strolls had to eventually come to an end and I found myself staring at the gates of the palace once more. The gatekeepers had memorized my face at this point and automatically let me pass. I saw a couple of newer and less stolid guards trying to stifle chuckles as I progressed inside, ever since the ‘incident’ with their liege, I had become something of a inside joke slash celebrity within the ranks of the guard. I heard terms like ‘Sun kissed’ and ‘Shooting star’ being jocosely passed around, I doubt they’d find anything about the situation funny had it been them being chased by a millennia old Sovereign with absolute power over the big ball of fire in the sky.
‘Then again, they also haven’t seen their Highness’s other heavenly body’ I snickered in amusement, knowing that most men would die for that chance.
Since I’ve been around for a while and they had apparently been filled in on my status as their first and only Trifect Prince, the guards had become a lot more open towards me (Minus a couple who were still bitter from the whiny voice incident). Either it was because they saw me as another ‘one of the guys’ or because I wasn’t an obnoxious prick like Blueblood, but they spoke to me from time to time and even invited me to participate in card games in their R&R bar and lounge. This was further evidenced by one of the men standing vigil by the base of my tower greeting me in a friendly manner.
“Hail Prince Zenith! Get chased by any other Princesses lately?” He announced with a chuckle, its tonal quality sounding tinny from inside of his helmet.
“Thankfully not, the first time was harrowing enough” I humored him as I readjusted the strap of my guitar so it sat on my shoulder more comfortably.
“I imagine so! My family has had a tradition of protecting her Royal Majesty going back centuries and has seen many a strange thing occur within these grounds, but I’m the first to ever see the Princess pursue someone so vigorously throughout the whole of her castle!” He burst into full blown laughter, it may not have been entirely at my expense but I just didn’t have the heart to join in, so I settled for an awkward smile. Once the man had a nice long laugh at my misfortunes, he sobered up a bit and informed me of something I had not wanted to contend with in the slightest.
“All fun aside, I felt it prudent to warn you that Blueblood has decided to officially challenge you to that duel today. I bore witness to many of your attempts to evade our mutual thorn in the side, in fact my personal favorite was that illusion of his female counterpart you summoned to lure him away from you in the dining hall a couple days ago”
After a full week or so of cleverly avoiding and hoodwinking him (Not excessively difficult since the guy was about as complex as three week old unrefrigerated cabbage, and about as spoiled too). I guess that I’d riled him up enough for him to invoke some ancient and obscure rite to oppose me. And because it preceded the rule of the Princesses, there wasn’t anything much Celestia could do to revoke its usage except keep it from becoming an actual duel to the death. As it was, I wasn’t terribly concerned. Though I was far from complacent regarding the issue.
“You liked that one huh? I call it the Blue-belle conjuration, very useful when you want to appeal to your narcissistic enemy’s baser desires”
“Very clever sir” He chuckled, “What will your course of action be?”
“Do you know anything about the rules of engagement for this duel?” I asked, curious as to how duels of honor took place here.
“I believe it’s the best of three strikes that determines the victor” He explained.
“What about magic?”
“No combat spells allowed, this will be hand to hand only” He replied, punctuating the statement by tapping his gauntlets together with an audible clanking noise.
“Fisticuffs huh? I could work with that, what actually keeps us from using any magic other than our sense of honor?” My tone made it clear that I did not expect Blueblood to actually fight fair without some kind of assurance.
“I think they make you put on some kind of ring that disrupts your inherent connection to magic, however a true warrior does not need to resort to petty spells to give them the edge in a fight in the first place”
“I can share that sentiment, relying too much on one single asset turns it into a crutch. And that can become a serious liability should that crutch somehow prove no longer able to support the load required of it in the thick of things”
“I’m sure the Stellar Mage division of the Royal Guard would disagree, but I personally find that ideology to be most reasonable. One should win their fights using their wit and skill, magic has its uses but can just as easily backfire in the heat of the moment”
“Is this spoken from experience?” I asked of the guard whose name eluded me.
“I’ve never had to deal with anything more pressing than rowdy crowds or the occasional thief or two, but my ancestors who have seen battle before recorded in their memoirs that it was shrewdness and a keen mind that ultimately won the day, fancy magic can’t ever replace the need for that” He firmly asserted with complete faith and pride in his predecessor’s achievements.
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind mister…?” I trailed off, waiting for his response.
“Valiant” He introduced himself with an extended hand, which I shook in good camaraderie. “Of house Goldenshield”
“A pleasure, Mr. Goldenshield” I inclined my head to him.
“Please sir, just Valiant will do” He requested modestly.
“Very well Valiant, do you know when and where I am to be expected at this duel?”
“My guess would be before noon at the sparring ring at the northwest end of the castle. The drilling grounds I believe, it’s the best place for settling matters such as these. And I have full faith that you’ll show ol’ Blueblood what for!” He extolled me enthusiastically.
“Just between you and me, there wouldn’t happen to be a betting pool regarding the outcome would there?” I inquired out of idle curiosity.
“If there was sir, I would most definitely not tell you that the overwhelming whole of the guard is putting their money on you” He explained with a conspiratorial chortle.
“Good to know I have the full support of the guard and their purse” I remarked as I summoned my wings.
I bid Valiant farewell with a wave before ascending up to my open balcony to add my new guitar to my set of things, wrapping it in protective coverings that acted as a makeshift gig bag. I also changed into something more flexible and casual in preparation for the sparring match and everything afterwards. I figured that a pair of grey cargo shorts and my black T-shirt with a red star emblem would have to suffice. I also set about placing all the books I had by my nightstand back to where I found them, all while munching on a bagel I had snuck from the dining hall the other day (In order to avoid Blueblood of course). I had learned a good deal about this world from the various texts in the observatory-tower, topics such as the various other kingdoms and sovereign states occupying the known world; including the exotic Minosian isles to southwest and the imperial lands of Gryphondria that lay just across the sea of tranquility to the east. I didn’t bother with anything like a shower since it would just be a wasted activity with an upcoming tussle in the cards, speaking of which I had to think of some kind of strategy.
I had gotten a good deal better in close quarter situations thanks to the shadow opponent spell that Luna taught me, but I never had fistfights using it. I was shocked that Prince Blueblood would actually stoop to getting his hands dirty to begin with. I shrugged to myself with indifference; did I really need a legitimate reason to feed that annoying jackass a knuckle sandwich anyway? He’d been hounding me for the past week! I’ve not said two words to the guy and he considers me the greatest threat to his hegemony as the most eligible bachelor Prince in Concordia, further substantiated by the many times he has tried to decry me as an actual member of the Royal family in front of the day court. I wasn’t there for the proceedings since I was busy doing my own thing (and not giving a damn), but Celestia had placed a suspension on his court privileges until he had given up on the matter. In typical Blueblood fashion however, he did the opposite of that and had one of his many lackeys look into ways he could strike at me personally, this duel being the most preferable.
After much internal debate, I decided I would just wing it and deal with it as it came. I wasn’t exactly disadvantaged here; with my Trifect conditioning I could probably mop the floor with the guy using minimal effort. The only thing I had to keep an eye out for were any nasty tricks the contemptible Prince might employ once he realizes how one sided this conflict could turn out to be. I stepped out of the shower as I finished reflecting on the various ways I could show Blueblood why that would be a bad idea. I then realized that I put myself on autopilot and did exactly what I didn’t feel like wasting time with and promptly face palmed. After drying myself off and redressing myself, I swan dived off of my balcony and made for the sparring ring that Valiant informed me of.
As if it were a location specific quest, I spotted the field of honor and none other than the crown prince of snobbery himself waiting for me with an impatient sneer plastered on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. His various well-dressed aides standing to the side and looking as if they really regretted their career choices whenever they thought their charge wasn’t looking. I touched down in an unintended dramatic fashion, kicking up a large cloud of dust and clipped grass before stepping onto the wooden floorboards that made up the sparring platform. Bleachers lined the area surrounding the staging grounds and were full of plenty of spectators. They consisted mostly of off duty guards and castle staff and those few sycophants that were ‘fans’ of Blueblood.
‘Something about this reminds me of a DBZ setup’ I vaguely reminisced as I drunk in the entire scene.
“I see that the charlatan who dares to call himself a Prince has decided to finally heed my challenge after a week of avoiding me like the coward he is. Of course, he has every reason to be afraid of me, I’m more handsome, stronger, and superior in every respect to this waste of space who dresses like the common street rabble” He haughtily jeered at me, probing for a response of any kind.
I merely stood there with an impassive face, slowly taking in my opponent and assessing his threat level. Blueblood was entirely what you would have expected, he was a blond pretty boy who could have made a decent Fabio impression were it not for his radically different coiffure. Physically he wasn’t terribly impressive, sculpted but not much in the way of muscle definition. His focal gem was the same color as his eyes, a light baby blue that was somehow fitting for him. Were it not for his rotten personality, the guy could have easily passed as your nineteenth century heartthrob of a European Prince. He certainly had the outfit befitting one; a snow-white waistcoat adorned his chest along with equally immaculate looking slacks and dress shoes.
“Well? Does the sham in front of me have anything to say in defense of his pride? Or is he cowed by my no doubt magnificent poise?” The overgrown man-child asked of me, growing frustrated by my apparent lack of acknowledgment.
“Yeah, when are we gonna get this over with? I’ve got an appointment with destiny in an hour or so and I don’t feel like wasting time dawdling here with the likes of you” I flippantly inquired, not paying Bluey any mind.
He sputtered in vexation, “H-how dare you consider me to be a mere trifle knave! I demand satisfaction at once!”
“Oh, blow it out your ass!” I shot back with a disrespecting gesticulation, receiving raucous laughter from the stands and paroxysms of angered embarrassment from Blueblood. He clenched his knuckles and glared aggressively at me, he looked ready to charge but one of his aides who was apparently his second in the duel stopped him.
“Sir, if I may. The rules of the duel must be officially stated before it can begin”
“Hmmph! Very well Unworthy. Read him his last rites so I can pummel him into the dirt where he belongs” He conceitedly declared with a vainglorious flick of his hair.
“Its Noteworthy sir” His second mumbled to himself, before walking to the middle of the twenty five by twenty five foot dueling platform and spoke aloud.
“Today we are here to witness a Royal settlement via an honorable duel. The arraigner in this case being his most noble Prince Blueblood…” The man expressed with no small amount of sarcasm, to which Blueblood seemed completely oblivious to; busy as he was grinning like an over fluffed peacock at the praise.
“…who feels that the new Prince Zenith is unfit for his title and is a mockery of Royalty everywhere. His unknown origins are also particularly concerning to my liege, who has found no indication of his Arcanian citizenship having existed until less than a month ago. Acting in the best interests of the Kingdom, he utilized his various connections to look into ways to have him removed from his position. So imagine his elation when he found an ancient law dating back to the founding of Arcania where two rival Princes could duel each other for their status of power and all the benefits held within” Blueblood’s malicious smirk grew even more at the last stipulation.
‘That conniving filius a canis! This is not just some glorified beauty pageant, it’s a power grab!’ I realized with intense anger and outrage.
“The rules of the duel are simple, the best of three debilitating or downing strikes wins the match, being knocked out of the ring counts as well. Additionally there is to be no usage of magic in this duel, the both of you will be settling this matter using your physical prowess alone” Noteworthy ended his oration as he stepped off the stage. I meanwhile was positively seething at the sheer profundity of my opponent’s hubris.
That really grinds my gears, not only was he an asshole but he was a greedy asshole. I committed myself to making sure he knew that he was making a grievous mistake in targeting me. I balled my hands into fists with such exertion that my knuckles crackled and popped. I was wholeheartedly ready to kick some ass. Two servants of some kind approached us with dark metal rings in their possession, Blueblood took off his expensive looking coat (Revealing yet another pure white undershirt) and handed it to the servant before grasping the object and placing it on his ring finger, while I had something more impudent in mind. I brought up my right fist and extended my middle finger, the servant looked confused at first but realized who I intended it for and slid the ring on. Blueblood saw the gesture and visibly snorted in response, either it was in vague amusement or indignation was lost on me. I lowered my hand and tested the effects of this magic ‘nullifying’ ring. Sure enough, my connection to my magic was cut off and whatever I could feel was severely scrambled. Satisfied with my findings, I brought myself into a fighting stance and kept both eyes fixed on my adversary who did the same.
“Begin!” Noteworthy signaled the duel to begin.
Blueblood made a beeline straight for me faster than I would have expected from the likes of him. I sidestepped around his diving punch and delivered a quick jab to his ribs, getting a grunt of surprise and aggravation from Blueboy. He threw several punches my way that I was nimble enough to dodge or deflect with a slap. Growing frustrated with my vigorous defense, he then switched tactics and tried to bear hug me and wrestle me to the ground to win the first point; I swiftly ducked under his lunge and planted my elbow square onto his back. This caused him to stumble back and glare at me with vexation in his feature and furrowed brows.
“And here I was expecting this to be over quickly. You’ll fall to me soon enough you cur!” He spat at me.
“Shut the hell up and fight” I shot back, sick of his melodramatic nonsense.
He indulged my request and attempted a wild haymaker with his right arm. I blocked by shoving my elbow into the crook of his arm while delivering another jab to his exposed throat. I only managed a glancing hit but it made Blueblood stumble back yet again and clutch his throat as he coughed in response to the strike. I didn’t allow him time to recover and dropped him on his back to the floor with a quick and forceful leg sweep.
“First score goes to the defending Prince” Noteworthy announced over the cheers of the audience.
Blueblood hissed in annoyance and charged me yet again. This time I used his blind aggression against him and met him head on as we caught each other in a grapple. I put my thick skull to use and gave him a nasty head-butt, loosening his grip as he recoiled from the blow and allowing me to grab his right arm and heave him over my shoulder, resulting in a downing move and another point in my favor.
“A second point goes to the defending Prince, he needs only one more to win the match” Noteworthy actually looked excited, perhaps at the prospect of officially being rid of Blueblood if he was stripped of his title.
Blueblood was starting to look nervous, knowing that I only needed one more win to relegate him to obscurity and shame. This is where I fully expected him to start fighting dirty, and I was not disappointed. He twisted the ring off his finger in a subtle motion and his focal gem briefly glowed, he then blazed his way over to me like a bullet train and slammed into me with excessive force. I was thrown on my back with a grunt till I was sliding dangerously close to the edge of the ring. Noteworthy opened his mouth to make an announcement but the Prince continued with his assault. I rolled to the side to avoid a fist that actually broke through the floorboards of the ring and expeditiously got back on my feet. The people in the audience began to voice their protests at the unbecoming conduct but neither Blueblood nor I paid them any attention. We circled each other in a counter clockwise rotation while studying each other for openings. My brain was currently channeling a tactically minded Holmes.
‘Opponent will undoubtedly make first move; his increased speed will make it difficult to skirt around. So perhaps I’ll take the full on brunt of another charge, worse case is that I’m downed and the scores are evened. Best case is that he will expose an opening that I can exploit and begin landing a flurry of debilitating blows that will take him out of this fight for good. Execute with precision and ferocity’
The raging Prince barreled towards me once more, I planted my feet firmly on the ground and stopped his charge in its tracks. This reduced his mad rush to a slow halt as we struggled against each other. My idea may have been a little dishonorable but all respect for my opponent went out the window once he began to augment himself with magic. So I brought my left knee against his open groin and traumatized his goodies, his strength immediately left him as he attempted to clasp his injured merchandise but I didn’t give him a single second to recover. I clapped my hands over his ears and discombobulated him, blocking a weak feral left and hammering him in the gut repeatedly. I grabbed him by the shoulder and attempted to uppercut his jaw, his feeble backpedal saved him from a knockout and only allowed me to glance off his face and bloody his nose. I pressed my offensive and proceeded to wallop his face with unceasing fury before landing a final heel kick to his sternum that probably fractured a few bones in his chest and downed him one final time.
The area around me was dead silent, a kind of tension hung in the air like water pressure in a hose that was waiting to be released. I slowly approached my dazed and bleeding antagonist of the day and knelt by his side. I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him so that our faces were inches apart, his being a good deal more bruised than mine.
“Don’t ever resort to underhanded and treacherous methods like cheating to undermine me ever again, or I will falcon punch you so hard there will be Blue blood everywhere. Am I understood?” I clarified with a harsh voice bordering on a growl, the craven coward weakly nodded his head and whimpered.
Knowing that I made my intimidating point plain to see, I released my hold on him and let him stew in his resounding defeat. At this point the crowd erupted into cheers as they saw their least favorite Prince receive an overdue and well-deserved beat down. Any who were fans of Blueblood immediately jumped on the bandwagon once they saw my triumph over the object of their shallow devotion. Noteworthy walked to my side and held my arm up, signaling my victory to everyone in the arena, which only increased the volume of their enthusiastic shouts and hollers. Once it was over, he shook my hand and congratulated me with a smile.
“Well done Prince Zenith, you’ve won the duel with nary a scratch on you!” He exclaimed with avidity.
“It wasn’t difficult since Blueblood not only underestimated me, but he didn’t even form a cogent plan for combatting me. He foolishly thought that I was going to be an easy target and it proved to be his undoing” I wasn’t expecting much of the idiotic Prince, and I wasn’t let down for doing so. What kind of Trifect would I be if I let somebody as low as him best me?
“He was never the type for thinking ahead, no” Noteworthy agreed with a chuckle, “So what does the victor intend to do with his spoils?” He half asked, already believing that he knew the answer.
Truthfully, I was severely tempted to actually take away that which Blueblood valued most, but felt that my original scheme for him was far more effective in the long run.
“I will show some leniency to the man who deserves it the least and let him keep his title and holdings. But make no mistake; I expect him to earn his station as a Prince of Arcania. I’ve compiled a list of changes beforehand that need to be made and conducts to follow that Blueblood must adhere to if he wants to keep that which I have decided not to take from him. I’ll have it sent to you personally since you seem to be his attendant, in addition you will now also act as his new supervisor and direct him as such as enabled by me. Can you do this for me and make sure he does everything the list says?” I elucidated to the confused looking man, who soon composed himself and spoke.
“That’s incredibly magnanimous of you Prince Zenith, and if your highness wishes that I reshape Prince Blueblood into something befitting a proper gentleman. Then it will be so” He bowed to me, which I was quick to discourage.
“One other thing mister Noteworthy, I will not show or be shown obeisance is that clear?” The meek man gulped nervously at the seriousness I projected into my commanding stare, but nodded in agreement none the less.
“Of course, my sincerest apologies my Prince”
“You should probably go check up on your charge now, make sure he doesn’t have anything else irreparably damaged beyond his pride” I pointed behind me with a thumb to the defeated Prince who lay groaning on the floorboards.
With my business here concluded, I left Noteworthy to attend to his injured master slash probationer while I made my way back to my tower. Valiant was standing vigilantly in the same spot that I left him. Once he saw me, he voiced his ardor.
“Based on the roar of the spectators reaching all the way over here I assume your highness has emerged victorious against that over groomed swine?” He rhetorically asked, letting out a snigger of amusement.
“Rightaroony. Defended my title and my good name, even got to rearrange Blueblood’s face a little bit too. Can ya’ believe the fool even had the gall to cheat once he realized that I had the upper hand?” I said in a faux incredulous tone.
“You speak truly!? That would be grounds for being tarred and feathered back in the old days, how did you punish him for his vile deceit?”
“I’ve punished him sufficiently to be honest with you, I figured making him earn his Prince hood is recompense enough for me”
“You did not wrest away his title and holdings? Why ever not? I can think of none other more deserving of it than the Blueblood house, especially it’s latest in a long line of mollycoddled progeny”
“I’ve read into their history, did you know that they once were the embodiment of what it meant to be noble? In the chaotic times following the banishment of the Night Terror the house of Blueblood brought together a splintered aristocracy and greatly aided in restoring order throughout the Kingdom, whether it was by funding recovery efforts or even financing the move of the official capital from its old holdings back in the Neverfree to Concordia” I found the variation of the forest’s name to be another one of those interesting and understated differences between my conventional perceptions of this world and its equine counterpart.
“Aye, and the Princess of the Sun was grateful enough to elevate them to prestigious power within her government. But in the long period of time following that exodus, their house has stagnated with each and every one of its heirs raised to believe that they should be handed the world on a silver bloody platter. They might have been noble once, but they’re rotten to the core now” The guard spat with disdain, his opinion of house Blueblood wasn’t terribly high it seemed.
“Which is why I’m trying to reform him to be more like his upright ancestors and less like a selfish pig. Holding his title over him like a carrot on a stick if you would, should prove enough of an incentive for him to at least try to be better” I reasoned.
He shook his head and shrugged, “You’re certainly an ambitious one I’ll give you that, but who am I to question the wisdom of true Prince like yourself?”
“Don’t sell your own self short, I happen to value any and all constructive criticism. It keeps me from developing that ‘do no wrong’ complex that some people sink into without realizing it”
He gave his input after mulling it over for a moment.
“I think… that if there was ever a chance to redeem the imprudent Blueblood, your plan has the best shot”
“I’m very grateful for your faith in my ideas, Valiant of house Goldenshield. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to retrieve my things and hopefully speak to the Princess one last time before I go”
With that I took off into the air and back to my vine strung balcony overlooking a pristine city that was bathed in the light of the midday sun. I gathered my things and took a second shower for good measure. I gave the list that I mentioned to Noteworthy earlier to a servant waiting outside my doors to be delivered to him alone. I wasn’t much for sentimentality but I paid my last respects to Twilight’s observatory-tower by standing next to the man sized hourglass in the middle and committing the layout of the room to memory; this also served to provide a mental picture for whenever I found the need to teleport here for whatever reason. I almost found it shocking how simple it was for someone to perform a teleportation spell, all you needed was a crystal clear image of where you wanted to go in your head, the vast amounts of energy needed to travel the distance near instantaneously (which increased exponentially the further the distance), and just willing the energy you summon to carry you there.
I spent a few hours trying to figure out ways to remove or mask the flash and popping noise that accompanied the traditional teleport so it could become a practical tool for more clandestine activities should the need arise. In my trial periods just hopping around the training room, I found that by enveloping one’s own body with a trio of spells, one for the jump, one to render oneself invisible, and a muffle spell; it was indeed possible to make it stealthy. However, the incredible amount of mana energy needed to do such a thing took its toll and I was completely drained for the next few hours.
I gathered the energy necessary for the jump and clutched my belongings close to me before letting it wash over me and sweep me away to the destination that I had in mind. After the still somewhat disorientating feeling of phasing under and throughout the fabrics of the world subsided, the many stained glass murals of the throne room greeted my vision. It was also devoid of any of the usual court attendees that loved to fill the hallowed walls of the chamber with their incessant bickering. Which meant that I had timed my jump correctly and was in between court sessions, Celestia acknowledged my sudden presence with a warm smile from her standing position on the dais. She looked awe-inspiring as always, maybe it was the flowing hair thing or the way she carried herself.
“Good afternoon Zenith”
“Good afternoon your most radiant majesty” I announced with a flourish as I inclined my head so as to show some respect but to still be able to look her in the eyes.
“What have I told you about being formal with me so often?” She softly reprimanded.
“Not to do it” I answered with a coy tone, “But I can’t help it if I treat you like a figure of authority in the very chamber that represents said authority” I replied with an excusing tone, when I was really just teasing her.
“It’s not necessary for you to do so, even in here. I’d like to have at least one other person besides Luna and Cadence who acts like I’m their friend, not the lady in charge of the whole Kingdom”
“If that be your desire, then I shall humbly acquiesce dearest Celestia” She let out a quiet giggle at my antics before asking about my morning.
“It went well, I got myself a new guitar and soundly defeated that nuisance that pompously labels himself your nephew in a duel that he challenged me to”
“Oh? And what do you aim to do with his title and chattels?” Her tone was curiosity mixed with something else, something else underlying her inquiry that gave me the distinct impression that I was being secretly tested.
“Nothing” I shrugged, “Since I didn’t take them from him. I figured it was best if I used it as leverage to try and shape him into a better person, in fact just before I got here I sent out the checklist that Blueblood had to meet all of the requirements for if he wanted to earn his Prince-ship back. And before you ask, I made the list very specific and thorough in its requisites”
She looked satisfied by my response; that trademark knowing smile adorning her features. I tried not to think of Celestia as being the (for lack of a better word) manipulative type, but it would be naïve to kid myself into thinking that she ruled this kingdom as long as she did and not play shadowy games of administration. But whenever she wore that smile, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable, like I was drenched in ice-cold motor oil. Not knowing in what context she was looking at me, or if she had some kind of secret agenda in mind for me. It’s a kind of notable irony that I’ve observed with the sisters of Night and Day, Luna is outright and honest with her inner thoughts and feelings while Celestia does not reveal hers as readily. For all I knew, one of the reasons why she had unofficially declared me a Prince was so that Blueblood could challenge me for the title and allow me to refashion him into something actually befitting his role as an Arcanian Prince.
‘Gak! The more I think about it the more unsettling it becomes’ I was no one’s pawn, not even for the Princess I’ve come to know and genuinely admire.
“That is a most wise decision Zenith, not only have you displayed personal integrity and withheld yourself from seizing that which was Blueblood’s, but you even sought to reconstitute him into becoming a better person” She lauded my actions and foresight.
“It’s not like I’ll be there to hold his hand through all of it Celestia, but I did make sure to entrust his reformation to his attendant mister Noteworthy”
“I know of him, his family has served the Bluebloods for generations. It will be interesting to see their values of gentlemanly conduct being finally imposed on my poor excuse for a nephew”
“Out of curiosity, why do you call him nephew?” I knew for a fact that he wasn’t related to the Princess.
“It’s a moniker that’s been passed down to every first born male heir of house Blueblood, I had a good relationship with the first Blueblood that I entitled with Prince hood. Sadly, over time I have borne witness to each and every Blueblood since then becoming a shameful parody of their noble ancestor”
She finished with a sad sounding sigh before perking up, “Which is why I look forward to seeing what kind of progress your plan for reshaping Blueblood makes. But enough about his upcoming reeducation, are you finally prepared to begin learning about the Arcanian values of friendship and harmony?”
“As I’ll ever be I suppose” I spoke in a flat tone that perfectly reflected just how unenthused I was. Celestia cheerfully continued as though she didn’t even notice how un-amused I was at becoming an apprentice in something as immaterial to me as what the best drinks to get smashed with were to a non-drinker.
‘Speaking of alcohol, I’ll need to speak with Daring again too’ I tuned back into the virtues of friendship that the Princess was most definitely not preaching about.
“…- and you will be more in touch with just how profound and enriching friendships can make your life” She concluded with wholehearted belief.
“That’s really something” I dryly commented.
“You had your attention focused elsewhere didn’t you?” She remarked with a raised brow and an equally dry tone.
“Wha..? Nah, I was hanging on each and every word to pour out of your infinite well of wisdom so intently that I started to daydream about how monumentally magnificent the woman uttering them was” My tone was that interesting mix of sarcastic sincerity that I’ve found myself utilizing more often.
“You’re lucky that I have a weakness for such poetic flattery, otherwise that could have been a short exile on the moon young man” She let out an absolutely sinister giggle that told me that she actually meant it.
“Yikes, that would be quite the desolate fate to befall one such as I. Do you actually have a spell that insta-banishes people who gravely offend you like that?”
“No. I do not posses such a spell, as it was a one-time occurrence only. And the last time that I ever held a connection to the Elements of Harmony” She said in a very neutral tone, sapping the atmosphere of any previously existing humor. I briskly changed the subject for both of our sakes.
“By what means will I be traveling to this Magiville?”
“The train lines leading there are as good as any, but I’ll leave the travel logistics up to you”
“Do you want me to leave right now? Is your precious protégé and her cadre of friends expecting me right this instant?”
“Of course not, you need only be there for the beginning of one of Luna’s favorite nights” She clarified with a growing smirk.
“Cool, I’ve been meaning to say farewell to one last person before I go” I nodded.
“A close acquaintance?” She inquired, a sizable grin on her face.
“More than that” Was my brief response.
“Before you go, I’ve some gifts I’d like to bequeath to you”
“Oh no, don’t tell me that its dangerous to go alone!” I passionately exclaimed, holding the back of my hand against my forehead for additional effect.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand”
I waved a hand dismissively, “It’s an inside joke that relates to an old video game that I use to play when I was very young”
“I…see, well in any case I’ve finally received a return letter from Cadence that was written by one Crystal Clear?” She pulled out a rolled up scroll with a fancy looking emblem sealing it up.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Hand it over please?”
She floated it over to me and I popped the seal open to take a gander. It did not take me long to realize that Crystal’s fancy cursive writing was a lot more refined than mine.
Dearest Zenith
It’s sounds as though you’ve already had quite the trip! How come you haven’t mentioned this companion of yours to me sooner? She sounds like a real keeper if she’s able to stay composed while on adventures like yourself, perhaps you’d consider getting to know her better?
‘Way ahead of you there Crystal’ I grinningly mused to myself before resuming my reading.
I’ve never been to the capital of Arcania before; I imagine that it must be quite a marvelous sight to behold! And why would I presume anything about your activities with a cellist that you formed an acquaintanceship with? And your friend Daring was jealous? I think your companion might feel more than just protective of you if that was the case. Somehow your last point does not surprise me in the slightest, though I don’t need to remind you of your promise to watch out for yourself for me do I? As for myself, I’ve been keeping busy with my various hobbies and outings with my sewing group friends. The Krystal Kingdom has been getting more and more busy with the upcoming Athletic events. Once they repaired the rail lines we’ve been getting an ever increasing and steady flow of people from all over who wish to spectate at the games. It has done wonders for the local economy, and I’ve heard talk of various businessmen who saw commercial potential in our humble home give consideration to setting up shop and expanding our fair city. A trio of rugged looking gentlemen actually asked me about you a few days ago, saying that you were pivotal in their success in hunting the snow dragon that had plagued us for some time. They seemed a bit downtrodden to discover that you had left before they had the chance to really show their appreciation, but were placated by the assurance that you would return someday. I know that you did not stay for very long, but I certainly miss you as well. I’m not entirely sure what it was, but there was something I could sense about you that was truly special, something that went beyond the fact that you were not a native of Arcania. But I digress. The house certainly feels emptier now, I’ve grown used to being alone these days… but I do eagerly await the time when you can grace all of us with your presence yet again.
Always keeping you in my heart
Crystal Clear
“It warms my heart to know that I’m sorely missed even by people who barely know me” I didn’t know if I was being honest or cynical about what I said.
“You sound as though the concept itself is hard to follow” Celestia observed.
“Just not used to it is all, is there anything more?”
“Indeed, I’ve corresponded with Cadence and we’ve set up a means for you and Crystal to exchange letters without having to rely on us to relay them” She levitated a jar of bottled dragon fire over to me, its flickering flame burning a bright neon blue.
“Cadence has sent a similar jar to Crystal Clear, you can now keep in contact with each other more often”
“That’s very thoughtful of you Celestia, can you make sure to thank Princess Cadence for me?” She nodded in affirmation.
“Along a similar vein, should I ever need to send a letter to you personally, am I to make use of the unique ability of your student’s assistant Spike?”
She expression became suspicious, “And just how did you know this?”
“I have my ways” Was my cryptic reply, “So can I assume that’s a yes?”
“Verily” Was her short response, gazing upon me with reevaluating scrutiny.
‘She doesn’t really think she knows everything about me just because she’s stepped inside my head a few times does she?’ I cynically ruminated. I shifted the conversation topic yet again by taking out a couple useful cylinders from my backpack.
“Let’s make this gift giving mutual” I levitated both over to the Princess, who looked at them with curiosity before taking them into her hands.
“And just what are these?” She asked, examining them closely.
“Devices for stunning people and enshrouding them in a cloud of smoke, I was thinking you could get some professionals to tinker with them and reverse engineer them for mass production”
“More inventions from your world? Why would you want them in circulation?” She asked with doubt and a wrinkled brow that creased her otherwise flawless countenance. She was eyeing them as if they were live grenades that could go off at any moment.
“Well think about it, these are more things that won’t exist in any other country save for yours, giving it a slight advantage. Neither of them are lethal like some of the other things I’ve shown you, so your conscience remains untarnished. Granted they’re not as generally helpful as that pen I gave you, but I imagine that the constabulary could find great aid in their usage” I explained with some reasoning, it also meant that I could restock on them if necessary.
“If you believe that they could prove useful to my nation, then I can have their components and duplication looked into”
She set them aside before turning back to me, “If that is all we have to discuss” I nodded to confirm that it was, “Then I would bid you a fond farewell Zenith, and the best of times during your stay in Magiville”
“Fare thee well Celestia” I returned with a humble nod before powering up for another jump, letting the tingly energy envelop me and carry me someplace anew; namely the docks where Daring’s precious ship was moored.
The ‘flash and pop’ startled a few of the agrarian dockworkers going about their jobs, but they collected themselves fairly quick; no doubt this happened often enough in a city primarily consisting of Stellar Magi for them to have grown used to it. I noticed that many of them were finishing loading the last crates of supplies and other materials onto the Magnificent Maverick for its next journey. Again, my recurring and impeccable timing both amused and confused me greatly. As did a certain adventurer’s hands covering my eyes and smooth voice speaking softly into my ear.
“Guess who Tiger” It said.
I held my hand to my chin in faux deep thought, “Hmm…do I get a hint?” I inquired of my playful captor.
I felt a pair of velvety lips repeatedly peck me on the neck and travel upwards towards my cheek, “How about now?”
“With kisses as delectable as those, I’d say its the most amazing swashbuckling woman I know. The one and only Daring Do” I answered with gusto aplenty, I was then gently spun around and rewarded with an incredibly passionate kiss on the mouth.
When we broke from our embrace, Daring beamed me a most enchanting and heartwarming smile. She was still wearing her cherished pith helmet but with a vaguely familiar brown leather jacket covering her torso and taupe khaki pants over her legs. With the exception of the headwear, she looked like Indiana Jones now more than ever. I of course kept this little opinion over her choice of wear to myself. We talked as we approached the gangplank to her trusty ship and embarked subsequently.
“Thinking about tagging along on my next expedition? It sounds like a real good one this time around. Increased rumors over something called the ‘shards of sheol’ appearing in far off lands and causing strange events were prevalent enough that my orders to investigate them came down from the very top” She explained with a ‘hush hush’ tone of voice.
“You mean Princess Celestia?” I whispered back as I set my belongings down on the deck.
She nodded, “The very same, she expects me to exercise some discretion on this one. Telling me that I’m to report in what I find and if possible, secure these shards in the name of the crown. Surely if we’ve heard these rumors…”
“Then other nation’s will have heard them as well” I finished for her, “I wish I could join you, but I also received commands from the same monarch”
“Oh…and what would they be?” She inquired, sounding a bit dejected that I couldn’t join her.
“You’ll think its silly” I responded in an abashed manner, rubbing at the back of my hair.
“I won’t laugh, promise” She held a hand over her heart and another in the air to back up her vow.
I sighed in exasperation, “I’m being sent to Magiville to learn more about the power of…friendship” I histrionically muttered the word as if it tasted foul on my tongue.
True to her word, Daring did not laugh. But she did have to suppress a few chuckles upon hearing that.
“Wow, that’s really corny. The Princess is really making you do that?”
“Yeah, she feels as if I need to have more of its boons in my life”
She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, “I’m sure you’ll do great, you’re a really charming person you know? Once you get past the phlegmatic and critical exterior anyway” She smirked at me, her kind words were touching to say the least.
“Right back at you” I gave her another kiss, with her moaning in delight at my caress. When we pulled away from each other, she gave me a mischievous smile.
“Want a ride?” Was her brazen question.
Even though I knew it was a deliberate double entendre. I looked around furtively as if making sure no one was watching us before gazing back at the sly woman with a rakish grin.
“Right here and now?” I saucily replied, winking at her and watching a fierce blush grace the sides of her face.
She gave me a halfhearted slug on the shoulder, surprised that I turned the tables on her and embarrassed her instead.
“You know that’s not what I meant…unless you really feel like it” She countered, wearing an admirably hard to read smile and eliciting a chortle of mirth out of me.
‘Oh how I’m going to miss these contests of innuendo once we’re apart’ I thought with some melancholy, it must have manifested itself on my face because Daring began to look concerned.
“Something wrong Zenny?” She asked in an uncharacteristically worried voice.
“I’m just going to miss you is all, you’ll be out there doing what you do best while I’ll probably be bored to tears down in scenic nowhere” I’ll admit that it was a bit harsh of me to say, but I get a little crotchety when I’m rueful.
“Then let’s make the best of the time we still have together, I’ll even set the Mav’ to take it nice and slow”
One of the dockworkers approached us before speaking, “Everything’s in order and you’re all set to go miss Daring Do. Need anything else before you head out?” He asked with a polite and professional tone.
“Thank you mister Hands, and that’ll be all” He nodded before leaving us to tend to other matters requiring his expertise.
Daring took to the helm before inserting that quatrefoil ignition key into the wheel and firing up her mighty vessel. The engines roared to life and once the dockworkers un-moored us; we eased out of the docks before rocketing into the sky on a southwest village bound heading. Once we had cleared the relatively busy air traffic saturating Concordian airspace, Daring cut us down to half speed and we began cruising almost lazily towards my destination. She joined me by the rails that I was leaning against in silence and watched the surrounding vistas alongside me. The spectacular sight of a floating city in the clouds became a slowly passing image as we descended closer to the valley floor. Its name wasn’t Cloudsdale as I had originally expected, instead this city of clouds was named Stratopolis. I quietly wondered if I would ever get the chance to visit the city suspended in the heavens someday and be absorbed by its classical Greco-Romanesque style architecture. We spent twenty minutes like that, before I decided that it was time to discuss a sensitive topic that was rather uncomfortable for me but had to be done regardless.
“Dee dee?” I spoke without hesitation, tightly gripping the rail and steeling myself for whatever reaction I was going to receive.
“Yes Zenny?”
I wasn’t going to beat around the bush on this one, “How open would you describe our relationship?”
“And what do you mean by that?” Her neutral tone making it difficult to get a read on her.
“What I mean is, how would you feel about not being the only special woman in my life?”
“Are you implying that there’s someone you’re seeing on the side?” Her voice was laced with an edge that would make weaker men’s knees buckle from fear.
“Not in that context no, but she does want a more intimate role in my life” I kept my cool, knowing that even the slightest hint of doubt could set my resolve aflame and end this negatively for both of us.
“Are you saying that I’m not enough for you?” I expected her to be angry, but this insecure tone of voice she was using was unanticipated. I took her hands and held them in mine before finally looking her in those beautiful raspberry red orbs of hers.
“Not in the slightest! You’ve introduced a sense of fulfillment to my life that I haven’t known in a long while, and that means the world to me. And don’t forget the solemn promise that I swore to you the day we first came to Concordia together, I will always be a part of your life no matter what” I reassured her, fully engulfing her and holding her close to my heart.
“Alright, but why do you want another then?” She tentatively asked, her eyes were misty with barely contained emotion and dampened the fabric of my shirt.
I shook my head, “This isn’t about what I want, and I’m doing this so that the both of you could end up happy. If that means dividing my attentions between the both of you or letting her down gently because it upsets you, then so be it”
“Sometimes you’re too selfless for your own good ya’ big lug” She embraced me again and buried her face in my chest; the robust and sweet scent of jasmine from her gray scale hair wafted into my nostrils and stimulated my senses. She then looked up at me and spoke from her heart.
“What you want is important to me Zenith, if you want to be in a relationship with myself and this other woman for both our sakes… then I’ll allow her access to you as well”
“Aren’t you curious as to her name?” I mentioned with slight befuddlement mixed with relief.
“Yeah, tell me who my harem mate is going to be” She asked with genuine interest.
‘Its going to be a while before I get used to that word being so casually thrown around’
“You’ve met her” She gave me a flat stare at the lack of information, “Does a certain cellist’s name ring any bells?”
“You’re saying that the esteemed musician Octavia Philharmonica has developed a romantic interest in you?” She expressed with some skepticism as she glanced back over the rails to the horizon.
Daring was well aware that she wasn’t the only person that I fraternized with during my time spent at the castle since I’m the one who told her. Strangely enough, she didn’t think much of it at the time, which was odd given how she reacted when she found me at Octavia’s place that fateful morning.
“I was equally astounded by this revelation, which was also personally admitted to me by her. I think it has something to do with my latent abilities concerning the realm of music and how I treated her differently from the usual priggish citizens of the Capital by seeing her as a regular person instead of some kind of sensual object that I could take advantage of simply by tossing the weight of my family name around”
“Are you sure that this isn’t some passing fancy? Is she as serious as I am with my desire to be with you?”
“I peered deep into the depths of her eyes as she told me all of this Daring, and there was no trace of doubt that I could find whatsoever. She really does want to give this thing with the both of us a shot. She’s also a huge fan of yours by the way” I mentioned offhand.
“Pfft, who isn’t?” Daring remarked with ample amounts of humility.
‘Typical Daring’
I rolled my eyes and briefly snorted, “You know Dee, when we first met, I only partially knew of you. I couldn’t really call myself a fan since I had only skimmed some of your novels. That and your first impression wasn’t particularly endearing” I said with a slightly teasing tone at the end.
“Oh, cry me a river. But now that you know firsthand how amazing I can be, what are your thoughts in the present time?”
“Daring Do, I think that you’re an incredible gal. You and I share a propensity for jeering in the face of danger, we both don’t really care for the uppity folks of the Capital, and we can keep calm in tense situations. The times that I’ve really gotten to know you have been real swell… and I’m honored to share a relationship with you” I genuinely explicated as I looked deep into her serene eyes.
“Stop it Zenny! You and your honeyed words are making me blush” She giggled and retreated into herself in that girlish manner which I found incredibly adorable.
“Hey, you did ask me after all” I shrugged, “So how’s your injured shoulder?”
“Not injured anymore!” She happily exclaimed.
“That’s wonderful, so you can summon your wings again?” She nodded.
“May I see them?”
She obliged my request and a beautiful pair of light golden ethereal wings sprouted from her back and fanned out in a wondrous display. Their majestic form wavering and billowing in the light breeze that swept over the deck. I observed them with barely concealed awe, other than my own pair; I hadn’t gotten the chance to observe a Valkyrian’s wings up close for myself. Even though I knew they were physically intangible, it still felt as if they were legitimately feathered wings as I slowly ran my hands across them. I was so caught up with their mesmerizing warmth that I hadn’t noticed the soft cooing noises that my actions were engendering out of Daring. It was right then that a crucial sliver of information popped into my mind reminding me that while a Valkyrian’s wings were insensitive to their own selves, another being’s touch could be clearly felt and was seen as a highly intimate gesture; especially if it was from a member of the opposite sex. I snapped my hands back to my sides and decided to pretend like I didn’t just give her a massage with pseudo erotic undertones.
“Why’d you stop?” Daring whined, she was clearly enjoying herself but I wasn’t ready to go that far just yet.
“I saw what I needed to see. Incidentally, you have very lovely wings with a good span and bright luminescence” I then promptly face palmed. For in my haste to appear nondescript, I had also done something akin to complimenting her rack by admiring her wings.
‘Stupid Valkyrian culture idiosyncrasies!’ I chastised myself for not remembering all of this before my faux pas. Daring didn’t seem to mind; instead she donned a near predatory grin as she slid closer to me.
“That’s awfully sweet of you to say. How bout’ you return the favor and let me see those wonderful crimson appendages of yours hmm?” She asked with a salacious (and admittedly sexy) tone of voice.
I exhaled in forbearance and brought out my wings, the ghostly sensation of their swaying in the breeze assaulting my senses with their mysterious allure. That was before an even more alien sensation of someone caressing a limb that I couldn’t even physical feel breached my mental fortifications and caused me to let out an imperceptible internal rumble that was a groan in reaction to the disarming comfort that Daring’s touch brought. The feeling travelled up and down my spine as if it were electrically charged, something that only intensified as Daring brought both of her hands on my shoulder blades and began massaging them. I didn’t know what it was she was doing to make it feel so relaxing, but I was adrift in a sea of rapturous sensations that took any and all worries I had for the future and evaporated them away like fog in the light of the morning sun. Before I could completely lose myself, the feeling stopped and Daring withdrew her magical grip on my shoulders.
“That feel good?” She asked with a smug voice.
“That was easily the best back massage I’ve ever received” I admitted with a shudder, silently wondering if those areas where the wings projected themselves counted as some kind of quasi erogenous zone.
She brought herself up to my ear and whispered huskily, “Then next time you start something like that, you’d better finish it mister”
I nodded and spoke slowly since I was still reeling from a serious case of the feel goods, “Understood”
“Great!” She clapped her hands together, “And it is definitively nice to have my wings back in action, you wouldn’t believe how many tight spots they’ve gotten me out of”
“Yeah I can believe it, maybe now you won’t have to use me as a carry all anymore” I jested, holding back a few nostalgic chuckles.
“I wouldn’t have counted on it, if it wasn’t for your little errand down in Magiville then you’d be the perfect manservant for my next novel worthy adventure!”
“If that’s the case then I suppose being pressured into learning about this Friendship thing wasn’t all bad” I murmured to myself, “Speaking of which, did you get your latest story to your publisher?” I inquisitively asked, curious as to her next book in the series and how I’d be portrayed.
‘Hopefully not as some kind of butt monkey’ I cringed at the thought. Dee wouldn’t do that to me would she?
“Course I did! Hard Cover really liked this one, spouting something about how it was an interesting change of pace given the radically different environment than my usual treks. And since you were pivotal in our venture’s success, I figured that you deserved to read the first copy”
She fished out a book from the inside of her jacket and handed it to me, I gave the cover a once over and smirked at the image of us dangling over a slippery slope as the train we were on recently derailed and we had to clamber our way back up. It title had the distinctive two tone orange and yellow coloring that only served to remind me just how similar Daring was in aspects to Indiana. She had indeed taken my advice to heart and named it ‘Daring Do and the chase for the Crystal Chalice’. I opened it to find that the inside cover was signed by Daring herself, a few lines of annotation written just below.
To the best boyfriend slash pack mule an adventurer could ever ask for. XOXO, Daring Do.
‘Daww, and here I thought Dee wasn’t the sentimental type’
“What’aya think?” She asked.
“I think… that you’re an incredible girlfriend” I showed her my appreciation with another affectionate kiss, something that was cut short by the sudden ring of the ship’s bell; signaling that we were fast approaching my drop off point. I put the book in my bag and looked over the rails to examine Magiville from up close.
The thatched roofs of the town in the shortening distance reminded me of one of those fairy tale rural German villages of lore. If I wasn’t feeling currently confounded by the bad timing, I would have found the quaint village to be idyllic. The Maverick settled to a stop somewhere over the middle of the town, its inhabitants stopped to gawk at the vessel that momentarily eclipsed the light of the afternoon sun.
I let out a short sigh and turned back to Daring, “I guess our last few moments together are coming to a close”
“We’ll see each other again before long” She said with a soft certainty, “I’ll try and send you letters to keep you apprised of this next quest”
“I’d offer to send return letters, but I don’t believe you have a bottle of dragon fire for that huh?”
“I wouldn’t be able to receive them even if I did, the leylines along which the magic travels outside of Arcania are too weak for it to successfully relay”
“Shame” Was all I could say.
I was about to say goodbye when Daring silenced me with a finger to my lips, “Shh… I don’t do farewells”
She gave me one last kiss, “Keep me in your thoughts okay Zenny? And one last thing before you go”
She whispered something in my ear that I won’t repeat, but it made me recoil in embarrassed shock. My foot got caught in some loose rigging and I tumbled overboard with a shout, stopping in midair with a jerk as I dangled just dozen feet shy of the ground, suspended with only the roping around my ankle preventing my fall.
“Uh…Daring? A little help here?” I meekly uttered back up to the deviously smirking woman.
“Don’t worry, I would never leave the great Zenith hanging” She echoed before she took out a machete like blade and cut me loose with a swift hack.
I fell to the ground with an ‘oomph!’ before the impish woman tossed my stuff overboard and elicited another string of ‘oomphs!’ out of the poor sap lying dazed on the floor, that also happened to be me. She chuckled to herself at the schadenfreude she left me with before departing for lands far beyond the familiar verdant pastures of Arcania. Egressing the skies above Magiville rapidly with full power being sent to the engines. Meanwhile I was content to just lie flat on the coarse gravelly road with my inventory strewn about me, reflecting on the unexpected event that had just transpired. I heard a chorus of concerned sounding voices in the nearby proximity coming closer and closer until it became a cacophonous ring of noise encompassing my prone form.
“You guys see that!? He just fell over the side!” A raspy and tomboyish voice exclaimed out loud.
“Goodness! I hope he’s not hurt” A soft voice spoke in concern.
“He did take quite the spill didn’t he?” A refined and calm mid Atlantic voice said.
“Wowie Zowie! That’s the first time my Pinkie sense went off for a falling person…and it’s somebody I haven’t met before! Do you think he likes parties!?” One of the voices excitedly asked the others, apparently assuming that I was physically okay.
“He looks fine to me” ‘This one’s concern for my well being is touching’
“Hey Twilight, isn’t he the special guest the Princess told you to expect today?” The uncaring younger sounding voice then suggested to the one named after my least favorite book and movie series.
‘Geez, can’t a guy take a dirt nap in peace around here? I mean… the ground has crappy lumbar support, but I’m still processing what that naughty little minx left me to mull over’ I groaned in discomfort, the pebbles of the ground I was lying on were digging into my back.
Deciding that the time for lazing on the ground was over, my eyes snapped open and were treated to the sight of the main six, sans Applejack and substitute one very human looking Spike staring down at me in various states of interest. Or in Spike’s case, complete lack of interest.
‘Well… so much for first impressions’ I mentally mumbled to myself.
“Are you alright there? You took quite a tumble out of that airship” Twilight spoke to me with care and concern evident in her voice. I responded with my usual flippancy.
“Heh, I see stars” I emitted with an entirely loopy sounding voice.
“I think he might have gotten a concussion from his fall dearies, it certainly didn’t help that whoever this gentleman was traveling with felt it prudent to simply toss his belongings out and leave without checking up on his state of health” Rarity spoke, some derision manifesting in her tone at the end towards the one who she saw toss me out along with the bathwater in her opinion.
“I find it amusing to no end how none of you save for the pink haired one have offered to help me up yet” I said as I took the dainty hand so kindly offered to me by Fluttershy and got back onto my feet. The aforementioned woman blushed and hid behind her long hair as soon as she was mentioned.
“You were perfectly fine!? Why didn’t you tell us that first?” Rainbow Dash angrily demanded, yet instead of immediately answering her; I was caught with how similar she looked to Daring. Were it not for her much lighter skin tone, obvious hair color difference, and casual light blue hoodie and runner’s shorts she was wearing; I could have easily mistaken her silhouette at a distance for my girlfriend’s.
“Well..? We’re waiting” She said with narrowed eyes.
“Because I was legitimately seeing stars” I answered with total truthfulness. Just not the forthright type, since I was stringent like that.
She snorted, clearly not buying it for a single second. “The nerve of this guy! Are you sure he’s the one mentioned in the letter Twilight?” She directed toward the librarian who was reviewing the scroll and casting quick analytic glances my way as she did so.
“He might be, the Princess was awfully vague on this one. ‘Expect him sometime today my dearest student. He will most likely not be what you’re envisioning, but he means well and is most eager to learn about the virtues that friendship entails’
I scoffed to myself at that, earning a few reproachful gazes while Twilight continued reading.
‘In a way his situation was most similar to yours, before you arrived during that fateful day of the Summer Sun celebration. Know that the task I have in mind for you is less harrowing than what is ordinarily expected of the Element's bearers, but will be no less difficult in its undertaking. I have full faith in you my dear Twilight that you shall show Zenith the wonders that you yourself have learned in the past few years’ She lowered the scroll and addressed me.
“So are you Zenith? The one personally sent by the Princess to learn about the values of friendship?”
“Indeed I am, humbly at your service I might add” I gave them the Sith salutation with a slight bow. The gesture seemed lost on most of them minus Rarity, who wore an appreciative smile at the display of propriety.
“Charmed, well I’m going back to the library to finish reorganizing the book shelves Twilight. Lemme know when you finish showing around our latest arrival to crazy town, Fright Night is tonight remember!?” The tweenage looking Spike said with excitement at the end, before excusing himself in the direction of a massive tree that must have been the Magiville public library. Leaving five element bearers with one very bemused Zenith.
“Aren’t there six of you? Where is the one named Applejack? I believe she’s the one who’s fond of always wearing a Stetson hat?” I asked, feigning my ignorance at their names and appearances. I was also a little disappointed that I did not receive the full welcome wagon, the figurative kind that is… Pinkie’s still probably has a tendency of launching cake into people’s faces.
“AJ? She’s busy setting up Magiville’s decorations and activities for Fright Night like she does every year” Twilight explained for me.
“Not to mention supplying all the apples needed for the bobbing tanks” Rainbow added.
“Don’t forget the pumpkins for the catapult and jack’ O lanterns carving contests!” Pinkie energetically added on top of that, a literal bounce in her every step.
‘Maybe she’s wearing moon shoes?’ I humorously mused.
“You’ll meet her later darling. For now, how about we show you around our lovely home and you can indulge us more about yourself in the meantime?” Rarity suggested with a casual flick of her meticulously crafted coiffure.
I shrugged noncommittally, “I’m game. Shall we be off then?” They all voiced their agreement (except for Fluttershy who merely nodded) and they began to corral me about town. With Twilight carrying my things using her magic, which had a lavender colored aura similar to her irises.
Given that it well into the afternoon, there weren’t as many people out walking since most of them were probably preparing to don their costumes for the upcoming celebration. Those that were (the vast majority of them female), started sending inquisitive looks our way, no doubt curious about the latest arrival to their town and my business with the element bearers. They were content with showing me the grand tour and replying to my random questions, while occasionally asking me questions of their own. Although it was clear that they were trying to make small talk with me based on the banality of some of their inquiries. Such as Pinkie’s endless sequence of questions involving whether or not I was a party person and all things involved, telling her that I was more of a person who valued tranquility did little to stop her verbal assault. Which is why I was thankful for when we came across the first part of our jaunt across town, which required Twilight to calm Pinkie down for me.
“This is the Golden oaks town library where I reside and conduct my research, as well as write down the results of my various studies and observations” Twilight explained as we passed the behemoth of a tree-brary, where Spike was currently cleaning the shelves with a duster as seen through the window.
“Regarding what?” I asked, interested in knowing just how into learning this girl was.
She looked at me with an inexplicable gleam in her eye, “Everything” She answered me.
“Yeah yeah, it’s where egghead here does all of her fancy smancy sciencey stuff” Rainbow said dismissively, “Its not nearly as cool as my place though!” She boasted as she stretched in midair, having been afloat the entire time we had been walking.
“I don’t doubt it” I idly commented, already having an idea beforehand as to what her abode looked like.
“Please, you’d need a castle to contain that massive ego of yours Rainbow Dash” Rarity teasingly censured the aerial athlete as we approached another building in a clearing that was shaped like the lovechild of a carousel and a boutique. Lo and behold, it was indeed the Carousel Boutique with its shiny violet and pink-checkered surfaces and other decorations that grated a little harshly on both my eyes and my masculinity.
“This Zenith darling, is both my home and place of business. The Carousel Boutique is an accommodating place where our motto is ‘every garment we sell is chic, unique and magnifique!’ Feel free to stop by anytime you wish to commission an outfit befitting a dashing gentleman such as yourself” She offered with a fluttering of her (totally not fake) eyelash extensions. I slowly wondered if she acted this flirtatiously with all the potential male customers to attract their coin or if she was really that playful.
“I will most assuredly bear that in mind, lady Rarity” I said with another polite inclination of my head. My response prompting a nearly indiscernible squeal of delight out of the classy woman that only my honed Valkyrian hearing could pick up on.
“Oh, how I do look forward to the pleasure of your company! So long as you do not mind standing in one spot while I take your measurements. I like to think that I can measure someone’s size with only a glance, but I also like to make doubly sure and see for myself” She said with plenty of implied double entendre as she bit her lip and peered at me with a sideways peep. Her excess and coquettish body language was to be expected, but seeing it for myself was something that I still wasn’t quite ready to accept, so I played the oblivious man card and pointedly ignored it.
“So what’s next on the tour?” I asked of Twilight, who was unofficially leading this little group of ours.
She was giving it some thought, “Well Sweet Apple Acres is out of town and Fluttershy’s cottage is just as distant” She tentatively explained.
“Ooh ooh! Pick me next! I bet he’ll love to see Sugarcube Corner” Pinkie pounced on the opportunity once Twilight agreed and grabbed my arm before hurriedly dragging me towards her home and workplace. I kind of just tuned her out once she started speaking and focused on not making as much of a scene as I was unceremoniously paraded throughout town by the pink haired energizer bunny. It wasn’t too hard to do since I was normally accustomed to walking fast anyway.
It wasn’t long before I was staring at the building that easily could have been taken right out of the Hansel and Gretel storybook. I knew that it couldn’t have actually been made of candy since that was not only impractical, but structurally unsound as well. Imagine leaving a gingerbread house out in the rain and see if it lasts as long and as in good of a shape as when you started.
“Well, whataya think? Do you like it huh huh!?” The slightly pudgy girl with hot pink cotton candy for hair repeatedly asked me.
“I feel like I need insulin shots just from looking at this place. Do you work here?”
“Uh huh! The Cakes hired me a long time ago!” She enthusiastically nodded.
“How did you know?” She asked, devoid of any suspicions.
“Call it a hunch” I responded with a deadpan delivery as the other girls caught up with us.
“Well, I suppose for now that shall serve as the conclusion to my introduction to town. Did your mentor tell you where I was to be staying during my sojourn here?” I directed to Twilight, who reviewed her scroll once more.
“She commissioned the construction of a residence for you here in Magiville, a cloud house actually. But until it’s built, you’re welcome to stay with us as we educate you about the Arcanian values of Friendship and Harmony. Isn’t that right girls?” An affirmative chorus of ‘yep’ ‘Why of course!’ ‘You betcha!’ and ‘I would love to’ answered her.
“Your welcoming hearts are a refreshing change of pace from that of Concordia. Once more I salute you” I extended my appreciation with another flourish, to which Rarity had to good grace to copy.
“A cloud house huh? So you’re a Valkyrian?” Rainbow Dash guessed as she gave me a look that was telling me that she was appraising me for something.
“Partially correct, I must ask that you keep this particular tidbit of information between us for now. Can you do that for me?” They looked at each other briefly before agreeing. I leaned in towards them like I was about to spill a rather juicy secret.
“I’m not sure why the Princess neglected to notify you of this, but I’m actually a Trifect” This was met with a series of gasps that thankfully did not attract any attention from any bystanders.
“What? No way! The only Trifects are the Princesses!” Rainbow spouted with reasonable disbelief evident in her features.
“Want me to prove it?” I proposed with a knowing smirk.
“Please do” Twilight articulated as she crossed her arms together, clearly she was skeptical of my claim.
“T’woud be my pleasure”
I gathered my mana reserves and commanded it to engulf us all before unleashing it and teleporting us into the interior of the Golden oaks library with a flashy display that was further enhanced by the summoning of my wings, which for some reason had taken on a streaming tendril effect not unlike the angels from the Diablo universe. The five of them, caught off guard by the intensity of the action, had fallen back and were looking upon me with something that bordered fear and awe. Spike, who was also surprised by the sudden activity in the library, lost his balance and fell off the ladder that he was using to dust off the shelves. With swift action, I caught him with my magic and set him down gently before returning my attention to the element bearers.
“Still doubtful?” I asked with as much modesty as I could muster, even though my showmanship was anything but.
“No… I think its safe to say that we believe you now” Twilight hesitantly spoke as she got to her feet along with the rest of her friends, her magical aura on my things was absent and they were once again dispersed about on the floor.
“So Princess Celestia wants me to educate the first male Trifect in history on the wonders of Friendship?” She said with anxiety beginning to seep into her voice.
“Think of it as a once in a lifetime opportunity for the both of us” I nonchalantly remarked as I set about picking my belongings up and dusting them off. Satisfied with their condition, I set them against an empty portion of wooden wall close by. Meanwhile her friends, who were practically shell-shocked from my exhibition, recomposed themselves and decided to speak up.
“My word! This whole time we have been entertaining a Prince and we haven’t shown our proper respects!” Rarity rushed to curtsy but I stopped her from doing so with a raised hand.
“Please don’t, you aren’t any more inclined to pay homage to me than I am to Celestia” I humbly asked of them.
“Princess Celestia” Twilight tried correcting me.
“We’re on a first name basis miss Sparkle, she honestly prefers it that way” Getting a low frustrated growl out of the disgruntled librarian, knowing that I had a point but wanting me to pay full reverence to her beloved teacher despite this.
“Now that I think about it” I held a finger to my chin in retrospection, “So does Luna for that matter, but you have to brave and bypass her abundant wrath first. Afterwards, she’s quite the pleasure to know, definitely the best dreamscaping partner to have in your head”
“You’ve dreamt of Princess Luna?” Spike spoke for the first time since I caught him, no longer sounding as apathetic as when I first met him.
“I’ve done no such thing, I’ve dreamt with Luna. Semantics are important you know?” For some reason Rarity smiled upon hearing that.
“The letter was right about one thing, you really were not what we were envisioning when the Princess told us about you” Twilight ruminatively commented as I made for a conveniently placed beanbag chair and plopped down on it.
“Good to know that I can still subvert most people’s expectations of me” I off handedly remarked as I beckoned my backpack closer with my magic and removing a certain letter and calendar from its contents. I put them down on the coffee table in front of me and called out to Fluttershy, who was busy trying to avoid my line of sight by hiding in a nice corner by one of the bookshelves.
“Oh Fluttershy! You’ve got mail!” I did my best impersonation of the AOL chime.
“Doesn’t Derpy deliver the mail around here?” Rainbow Dash commented, still eyeing me rigorously. I’d have to earn this one’s trust it seemed.
“Derpy doesn’t service the capital city does she?” Rainbow shook her head, “Then she also wouldn’t have been asked by a certain chaotic and discordant bureaucrat to deliver his mail for him as a favor would she?” I rhetorically asserted.
Fluttershy perked up once I emphasized her friend’s name and shuffled closer to table. “Discord asked you to deliver something to me?”
“Yeah, a letter and the extraordinary gift of calendar to one kindhearted animal caretaker” I clarified with a rare smile, which eased her fear of me and she drew near with less hesitance in her step.
Something about Fluttershy and her tenderhearted personality just brought that out in me. This human version of her was not excluded from this unique attribute; in fact I dare say that she amplified what I felt just with her graceful presence. But I would not dwell on those feelings… not now, as it was simply too soon. At any rate, Fluttershy returned my smile and took the items before murmuring a quiet ‘Thank you’ and returning to the background.
Pinkie, who had been oddly silent and motionless, abruptly sprang into the air as if she had made an important realization. She happily let us in on her thoughts… the coherent ones anyway.
“I just realized something! I need to plan your welcome party and make it super duper special! Gotta go!” With that she rushed out the door with a speed that actually shut the wooden portal behind her with its force.
“And I have to put the finishing touches on my costume for tonight’s festivities, ta for now darlings!” And so exited Rarity.
“I should return to my animal friends and read what Discord sent me. Maybe we’ll see each other again later?” Fluttershy asked with that tractable and timid voice.
“Do you partake in Fright Night? I hear it can be quite unsettling for the faint of heart” I asked, with her nervously scraping a foot against the ground as she responded.
“Well… I used to skip out on it every night since I’m easily frightened, but this year the girls convinced me to accompany them and enjoy myself. Even though I’m still scared of Fright Night, I just couldn’t bring myself to say no to them”
“Well that’s very courageous of you. Good on ya’ Fluttershy!” I complimented her, eliciting another furious blush and an ‘eep!’ as she exited out the door in a hurry. Rainbow Dash however must have assumed something untoward of me since she started glaring at me from her spot on the beanbag chair across from me.
“And just what was that? You’re not hitting on Fluttershy now are you?” She angrily interrogated me with a sneer.
“Nope, just giving credit to where it’s due” I paid her as little mind as possible as I took out the hand signed book Daring gave me and began reading it. I could actually see Rainbow’s eyes widen in surprise as she caught hold of the cover.
“Oh my gosh! How did you get your hands on an early copy of Daring Do’s latest adventures? Those don’t hit the shelves until next week!” She exclaimed fervently, clearly dumbstruck with the book that I held firmly in my grasp.
“I’m very well connected” Was my curt yet accurate answer, occupied as I was with reading it. For some reason, Rainbow decided to scoot closer so she could read what I was reading without me noticing. I would have found it cute had it not been so obtrusively nosy.
“I’m a huge fan of Daring Do, she goes on so many awesome adventures and defeats all the villains who try to stop her or get their grubby paws on artifacts of mysterious power and try to take over the world” She said as she was all but pressed against me in order to get a peek into the novel.
“Believe me, I know” I said as I flipped a page with leisure, deliberately stuffing down the memory of what I did to the last villain she faced deep into the recesses of my mental vault. Rainbow seemed frustrated with my lightning fast reading speed because she kept letting out these annoyed sounds every time I flipped a page.
Right now the story was her briefing on an urgent message sent from the Krystal Kingdom detailing the pilfering of the Crystal Chalice. Twilight must have left the room at some point to retrieve something because when she came back, she was carrying a sizable stack of paper to write down notes with.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be Rainbow? I’ve got to use the remaining hours before Fright Night to ask Zenith here some important questions and scour the library shelves”
“Gah! Fine… I need to make sure my costume for tonight is a perfect replica anyway. I guess I’ll see ya’ later egghead!” She said as she zipped out of the door and into the sky blue yonder.
“You’ll have to forgive Rainbow’s temerity, she’s slow to warm up to newcomers” Twilight explained as she set the pile of paper down on the tabletop.
“It’s quite alright Twilight” I said as I closed the book and put it away in order to prepare myself to answer the librarian’s inevitable storm of questions.
“You don’t mind if I ask you a few questions do you?”
“A few?” I dubiously asked as I eyed the large stack of papers she had put together.
“Don’t be fooled by the size of the pile, I’m really only going to ask a few questions or so”
“Ask and I will answer to the best of my ability then”
“Okay then, so while I’m admittedly curious about your status as the most recent Trifect to join the Royal family. My assignment comes first, so I need to ask a few preliminary questions to determine how far along you are in your progression in friendship” I rolled a hand as a signal for her to continue.
“So how many friends have you ever made?”
“In my life?” She nodded, “About as many as you can count on both hands once”
“That’s significantly lower than the average, but it’s still higher than mine when I first came to Magiville. Is your lack of friendships due to being socially awkward or another reason?”
“Lack of interest” She looked genuinely shocked to hear that.
“…Okay… and why would that be?”
“A whole range of reasons, many of them personal. But suffice it to say that I’ve felt like I could live without them for the majority of my life” I explained as I tapped a finger against the fabric of the beanbag.
“It’s certainly…surprising to find someone who legitimately feels that way. We naturally strive for friendships as a way to nurture ourselves and so that we don’t become lonely, and so we can feel like we belong” She reasoned as she lectured me.
“I’ve spent much of my time striving for other things. And there just wasn’t much room for friendships in my life to begin with, something that’s only been compounded with the fact that I am naturally a very taciturn and reserved person”
“Well so is Fluttershy, but she still makes friends a priority in her life” Twilight countered.
“Fluttershy is also terrified of winding up alone. Tell me, does she have many actual friends beyond you and the other element bearers?” I questioned her.
“Well, erm… none that I know of” She shook her head, “How would you even know that anyway!? She hasn’t told anyone outside of her friends and family”
“I could see it in her eyes” I answered enigmatically, ‘That and you just confirmed it for me’
“We’re getting off topic here. If you’re really not interested in making friendships then why did you come here? Surely you must have felt some inner need to reach out and connect with others” She spoke with an almost pleading tone.
“I came here because your precious mentor all but forced me to… and don’t call me Shirley” I added as I crossed my arms together in a defiant pose.
“It is becomingly increasingly evident that I have my work cut out for me” She exhaled with a tired sigh before getting up from her seat.
“Well now that I’ve asked you what I needed to, I need to finish cleaning up the library with Spike before joining the girls for Fright Night. Since you don’t seem have a costume, I guess you can just stay here and read whatever you feel like”
“Is Spike a hybrid by any chance?” My unanticipated question stopping the librarian dead in her tracks.
“What?” She automatically ejected.
“If I recall correctly, he has an ability that allows you to send letters directly to the Princess, like the dragons yes? So then why does he appear to be human instead of a drake?” She gave me a strange look before finally answering me.
“Well… to make a long story short, when I had to hatch an egg to get into Princess Celestia’s school for gifted Magi; I kind of had a magical outburst that must have somehow fused the substance of my being into the egg because when it hatched there was a newborn child in its confinements”
“Huh… so does that make you his mother or his big sister?”
“Err… both. Spike is one of the most unique humans to ever walk this planet because of the events of that one momentous day. Which incidentally is also when I earned my mana mark along with my friends” She showed me, the image of a bright starburst with five smaller stars emblazoned on each hand.
“Neat. So is there anything I can do to help speed along the process of cleaning up the library? I wouldn’t want to come off as some kind of lazy bum you know?”
“That’s very considerate of you to offer, but you’ve no need to help out. Besides, Spike and I have this work synchronicity that can be easily interrupted by the introduction of a third member”
I shrugged, “Suit yourself then” I retrieved my book and resumed browsing its pages. The next few hours passed by in what felt like half the time as I was drawn into the story, Twilight and Spike having left long before to go out and have fun ‘trick or treating’. Despite having been there in person to experience most of it, there was something about the third person point of view that made it feel like watching a movie with luxurious descriptions paid to all details. It was also uplifting to see Daring’s thought processes as she adjusted to me and eventually developed a respect that she felt could blossom into something more. From the way she embellished my mediocre deeds in the story, you’d think that she was doting on me through the pages themselves. I swore to myself that the next time I saw her I would properly show her just how mutual the attraction was. Eventually the story ended on a hopeful note as she sailed back for the capital city with her new partner at her side.
I looked out the window to see that darkness was beginning to settle on the town of Magiville as people and their younger siblings or offspring prepared to go around collecting sweets to satisfy their gullets, while also saving some to offer to the statue of the Night Terror in order to fend off any ill fortunes. While I found it to be incredibly superstitious just like Halloween’s origins, I also liked the prospect of potentially stuffing my face with sweets. And I wasn’t about to let a small aspect like the lack of a costume stop me, but first I needed to find a mirror. I shut the book and put it away along with my things before I ascended the curved stairs leading to Twilight’s room. Sure enough, there was a large mirror right next to a dresser in the proximity of Twilight’s bed on the loft. It didn’t take much thought for me to come up with a blood chilling idea for what I would go out into the night as. I brought out my magic and cast an illusion spell on myself, the afterimage from the spell’s flash slowly fading away to reveal…the dark knight.
“You know something? This costume only inspires fear in the bad guys. I want something that could cause people to cry tears of blood at the sheer dread it’s image will provoke, just not too literally”
I poured a lot of magical energy into this next spell before I recast the illusion charm on my body. It didn’t cause any physical changes since it was only a perception altering spell, but the form before me turned jet black before elongating into something that was gut wrenchingly spindly and very tall, stretching beyond the reflection of the mirror. I angled the mirror up and stepped back so I could see gaze upon the sickening creation I had brought into the world, it wore a professional looking suit with a blood red tie and had tendril like projections protruding out of its backside. These blackened tendrils actually turned out to be my wings taking on that fluttering effect again. I was indeed looking at the split image of the slender man of creepypasta mythos, except for one minor alteration… it had no mask. Instead the grotesque pallid face of a monster not unlike a necromorph stared back at me, its jaws were unhinged and its rotted tongue slithered over needlelike serrated teeth.
It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn that its eyes were gazing upon my very soul as if it were something that it desperately wanted to devour. I shrugged it off as mild paranoia (although my illusion did not copy this gesture) and began my second set of spells; one was another perception alteration that caused a feeling akin to the noise of buzz saw to assault one’s senses while the other played the ‘twenty dollars’ song. I modified it so whoever dared looked upon the illusion would experience one or the other or even both depending on how resistant to scares they were. I figured that the combination of scary and uncanny would be enough to have even fully grown men wet themselves in fear. I gave myself a once over by rotating in place, with the illusion drifting in a way that gave it the impression of phasing in and out of existence.
Satisfied with the appearance of my ‘costume’ I set out to cause some horror and wreak some terror … and maybe obtain a few candies while I was at it. After hastily scribbling together some haunting and unsettling pages from memory, I opened the door to Twilight’s balcony and stepped outside, the chill breeze of the nightly autumn air rushed over my skin and would have given me goose bumps were it not for my Valkyrian resilience. I stood on the balcony deck and observed the going on’s below.
Fright Night was in full swing, children scampered around while knocking on doors and holding their candy sacks out before uttering the mantra ‘Fright Night, what a night! Give us something sweet to bite!’ instead of the ‘trick or treat!’ from back home. In the town square was a whole compilation of recreational stands having been set up to receive people and engage them in interesting activities such as bobbing for apples, jack o’ lantern carving, pie eating contests for some reason, and my personal favorite; the pumpkin launching catapult range.
‘Aww man, they have pumpkin chunkin’ here!? Maybe… after I’ve had my fun from scaring the piss outta people’
I did spy a small gaggle of people being led into the fringes of the Neverfree forest, (presumably to visit the statue of Luna as the Night Terror) consisting of younger adults instead of the usual kiddies. I maniacally rubbed my hands together before taking flight, my newly blackened wings carrying me with an urgency to play some sinister prank scares on some unsuspecting sheeple. I landed by the forest’s edge and shadowed the group for a few minutes before being led into a forest clearing with the statue of an armored woman with a nearly blank face mask, save for the midnight black eye slits that served as the eyes, standing silently as if lording over the foggy emptiness. They stopped close to its base before the one leading them, a woman wearing a rather sexy looking devil costume complete with pitchfork came to the fore of the gaggle and began to speak. I half listened while I stuck the pages to the trees surrounding them using their sticky sap as adhesive.
“And this my fellow Magivillians is the statue of the feared Night Terror,” The crowd gasped as they gazed upon the intimidating looking statue with barely concealed unease, as if there was a sense of foreboding emanating from its stony surface. Given what I was going to put them through, they may very well have been correct in that assumption.
“On every anniversary of this night, we bring offerings to this stone effigy of the Night Terror so we can appease it and keep other evil spirits from invading our lives and consuming us” She lay down a small bag full of sweets at the base of the statue in accordance with her words, her actions were mirrored by the rest of the group as they each offered up a sum of sweets to the indifferent sculpture.
Knowing that my time to stalk was now, I rapped on the bark of a tree nearest to the clearing’s occupants and slapped another paper to a sticky surface on its exterior before cloaking myself. The sudden noise caused all four women in the group of six to jump in surprise and for the two guys in the group to look around themselves in serious apprehension.
‘God, this will almost be too easy’
The bravest member in the group slowly walked towards the tree and tore the paper off the tree before reading it aloud ‘Don’t look, or it takes you’. I smiled and summoned the sound sphere to play the ambience theme to Slender in the background, its ceaseless and rhythmic pounding beat setting their hearts aflutter and testing the integrity of their mental fortitude. This served to further spook the group who started huddling together as more pages began manifesting themselves in their line of sight where the forest wasn’t as shrouded by the fog. And just like a trail of breadcrumbs, they began to gravitate towards them, doing their best to stay together and not get separated. I grinned to myself at their admirable effort, but it wouldn’t take much to break them all up and pick them off one by one. I started uncloaking in the peripherals of their vision and recloaking just as one of them would notice me, intermittently at first, but I upped the frequency once their morale started to crumble with every page collected.
One girl in a mummy costume figured that her nerves were frayed enough and broke off from the main group in a mad sprint out of the forest and straight into the thickest sections of fog. I froze her movement with a paralysis spell before phasing behind her and turning her around to look upon me, the blood all but drained from her face as she gazed up into the ravenous eyes of my apparition and the second spell set took effect. She let out a bloodcurdling shriek of fear before I teleported her out of the Neverfree and somewhere back in Magiville. I revisited the main group to see that they were visibly sweating and hyperventilating from hearing their companion’s wail so loudly before being suddenly cut off.
Normally my mana reserves would have been stretched to their limits by now, but I still had plenty of energy to spare. Perhaps I was actually feeding off of their distress? I had no more time to think on it before another member tried to make off into the fog, I caught her and did the same thing as I did to the first girl; making her scream like a banshee before silencing her. The remaining four anxiously chattered amongst themselves before prying as many of the pages off the trees as they could find, as if believing that it would somehow save them. In response, I merely intensified the daunting magnitude of the ambience enveloping them and turned their normally cautious movements into frantic scurrying.
They couldn’t collect all of the pages as a group since I spread them appropriately, which allowed me to single them out one by one and flash them away until only the devil costumed chick was left. She found a pit in between the two thick roots of a tree to curl up in and began to cry softly, talking to herself and apologizing to her friends for leading them to their supposed deaths. I should have felt sympathy for this poor girl and cut my nefarious prank short, yet something in the back of my mind was entreating me to persist and finish this little game of cat and mouse. I used my magic to disperse the surrounding fog near the tree and revealed myself to the petrified girl, who slowly looked at the sinister moonlit shadow that I cast on her and hesitantly spoke, choking back a few sobs.
“W-why did you still take them? Didn’t we c-collect all of the pages?”
I leaned in closer to her before speaking in a bone rattling voice that should have set off some alarms of my own.
She looked into my ‘face’ and screamed with all of her lungpower, I would never forget the primal fear that I saw in those eyes, nor would I ever forget how delectable it was. I sent her away like the others and made my way back to the clearing where a large dropped pile of candy that was left behind was awaiting me. I was about to give myself a pat on the back for prank well played and reward myself to some sugar when I heard rustling in the foliage far behind me, along with some hushed but wary voices.
“Are you certain this is such a wise idea Twilight? From the way they were frenetically describing it, this sounds like a monster that we are woefully unprepared to face. Not to mention that I always feel the need to bathe for weeks afterwards every time we enter this positively dreadful forest”
“Relax Rarity, the elements haven’t failed us before and they aren’t about to start doing so now. This could be a serious threat to the town and it’s our job… nay our duty as heroines and defenders of Arcania to go out and vanquish it” Twilight justified as they came closer to my position. I could have included them in my little game of hide and seek but there was something holding me back, anchoring me to that spot and waiting for them to come find me.
“Now hold on an apple pickin’ second, what did they say this critter looked like again Twa’light?” An accented voice I recognized as Applejack’s spoke up.
“Not a critter from the sounds of it, they said that it looked more like an extremely tall and slender man” I couldn’t hold back a spine tingling chuckle at hearing that.
“Did you guys hear that!?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed and alerted the others, leading the group into the clearing where I was standing... menacingly.
“Oh look, the scary monster likes candy! That’s so funny!” Pinkie pointed out before giggling loudly to herself.
I joined in with her, vocalizing a soul rending, deep flanging laughter that pierced the night and shut Pinkie up quite expeditiously. I twisted in place to leer upon my newest prey. Applejack was dressed up as a scarecrow and was wielding a large claymore, which looked very out of place on her person. Twilight was dressed as some other historical figure that nobody in town would recognize. Fluttershy, who was hiding behind Applejack the whole time, was wearing a tree costume and shaking so hard that the fake branches were rattling. Pinkie Pie was dressed up as a candy pirate for pinkie reasons. Rarity was wearing something that made her look like a sultry version of the grim reaper (Reaper Rarity is sexy Rarity). And Rainbow Dash was dressed up as Daring Do in her usual safari outfit. She had put on a gray-scaled wig to cover the difference in hair color; again I found her bizarre resemblance to my girlfriend to be almost eerie. One thing they all had in common however, were those colorful necklaces and Twilight’s tiara. The Elements of Harmony could put a permanent ban on my fun and were probably even the reason why my terrorizing spells had no visible effect on them. I growled at this new threat and rigidly prepared to dispose of it.
“Sweet Celestia! What is that abomination!?” Rarity screeched and pointed at me, or my mirage’s mangled suit and tie (it was hard to tell with her).
“I don’t know and I ain’t keen on finding out, ready to activate the elements gals?” Applejack communicated with her friends as she stared at me in defiance and poorly hidden disgust.
They all voiced their readiness in a chorus of affirmatives and stood firm (even Fluttershy, who was emboldened by the bravery of her friends). I prepared to strike but that mysterious and yet intimately familiar entity at the back of my mind kept me anchored to that very spot, I snarled in fury at my inability to trounce my opponents and bellowed into the forum of my mind.
‘Why am I being held back!? I must consume them lest they destroy me!’ The ghoulish voice beseeched.
‘You’re not consuming anybody, this act has gone on long enough’ My real voice responded.
‘You would betray your own self and let us both be obliterated!?’ It roared in vexation and bewilderment.
‘You are NOT me. I was never a malevolent being that would continue to play mind games with someone who may very well be scarred for life, this little charade is over. I don’t know how you came into existence without me noticing sooner, but I do know that the cleansing powers of the Elements will rectify all of this… so I believe I’ll take my chances’ Was my cold response, revolted with just how far gone I had let myself become.
The six women formed up and closed their eyes in focus. When they opened them again, their eyes were blazing with power so potent that searing white light poured out of them, bright enough to make a searchlight look dim in comparison. They were lifted off of the ground by that same power and the magical energies swirled and coalesced around them before being sent towards me in a tidal wave of colorful light.
‘I just wanted to reap the fear we had sown’ The other hellish voice whimpered.
‘You succeeded’
Whatever it was that was possessing me let out a final howl of despair before the harmonic wave of pure magic collided with us and we knew no more.
⁂
I was only half awake or half aware of the flowing tingly energy suffusing into my psyche and splitting off into aspects of alternating colors that represented my personality and memories as I stood in an endless void of white. It was a lot like being immersed in an ocean of feeling and emotions, only these emotions were not mine, instead they felt like the distinctive sentiments of other beings; particularly those of the six women who had inundated me with the full might of Harmony.
I perceived the academic dedication and childlike wonder of Twilight, who was forever indebted to the five friends who had changed her life in ways she still couldn’t fully comprehend even after years of knowing them, how they inspired something in her that was so powerful that it could only be described as magic. I experienced Pinkie’s endless glee and the desire to spread it across all realms. I felt Applejack’s humble love for family and home and her unequivocal belief that you should be true to yourself and others around you. I glimpsed Rarity’s vision for better and brighter world and her aspiration to share that vision with everyone. I was made to understood Rainbow’s unwavering faithfulness to her friends and every person who had done right by her and who she would respond to in kind. Speaking of kindness, I could sense it pulsing off of Fluttershy like a life saving beacon in a sea of uncertainty and doubt; holding me in its warm embrace and promising me that everything would be okay in the end.
I saw myself for who I was, who I currently am, and who I could be. I saw myself undergo various shifts in spirit as I reviewed the many experiences in my life that made the person that I was at that fixed point in time. I saw myself at my worse… and I saw myself at my best, I even saw myself through the eyes of others. I envisioned myself releasing my true potential, and the six people who would assist me in achieving that goal. All of this passed in the blink of an eye, my reviewing the contents of my heart of hearts, my resolution to become more than what I am, and my willingness to face this new life of mine with a new fire burning strong in the core of my being.
And with that, I stepped out of the light and into the waiting world once more.
⁂
I emerged from the brilliant light of Harmony a changed man, whereas before I wasn’t exactly avid on being educated on the finer qualities of friendship, I wasn’t as resistant to the idea anymore. Especially if it meant finding myself unexpectedly enfolded in a couple of cushiony hugs, graciously provided by the two pink hairs of the main six. I stood there with an ambivalent grin that resulted in wrinkled lines on my face, as both Pinkie and Fluttershy smothered their faces with the chest fabric of my shirt.
“Ladies, while I know that some could consider my charms to be magnetic, is there a particular reason for this entwinement?”
“I’ve never met anybody who hasn’t flashed a genuinely happy smile for so long in my entire life! And I Pinkie Promise you that I will do everything in my power to fix that mister!” She unlatched from me to do the gestures and show just how determined she was to get me to smile again.
“You’ve been alone for so long despite being surrounded by so many people, all because so many have spurned you that you’re afraid of opening up to anyone ever again. No one should ever feel that way… I’m always here if you need me” Fluttershy informed me with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts and resuscitate new life into the dead tissue underneath.
“I… appreciate that… both of you” I ditheringly uttered, taken as I was with their phenomenal selflessness.
“Who is this fella Twa’light? I could’a swore that were facing a monster not two minutes ago” Applejack confusedly remarked to Twilight who was staring at me.
“He was the guest that was mentioned in Princess Celestia’s letter”
“Call me Zenith!” I said with a wave, “I wish the circumstances of our first meeting had been a little more favorable, but I’ve been flubbing first impressions all day today”
“What was that awful thing beguiling you anyhow? Its suit was all manners of atrocious!” Rarity exclaimed.
“Ugly too” Rainbow added as she began circling me while airborne, making sure I wasn’t still a threat I guess.
“You don’t want to know, needless to say that we shouldn’t dwell on it ever again” I answered, wanting to put that failing of mine in the past where it belonged.
“That creature was using some kind of trepidation evoking magic, I’ve never seen anything even remotely similar except for Sombra’s mental trap door in the depths of the Crystal Citadel” Twilight noted out loud.
“That’s because I was the one responsible for casting the spells involved in its creation,” I held up a hand to quiet their shocked outbursts and let me continue explaining, “I got a little bit bored in the library after I finished reading my book and the sounds of every person outside frolicking about and just having a great time were just too enticing for me to ignore. However, since I was lacking in a costume I decided to create one of my own using an illusion spell of my own making before going out to have some fun”
“If that was just an illusion, then why did you let us utilize the elements on you instead of just dropping the act?” Twilight questioned my actions.
“Because my illusory ‘act’ had taken on a mind of its own, I wasn’t even aware of this until my Fright Night pranking scheme had went too far for my tastes and I couldn’t get myself to stop. I figured that keeping myself immobile and being rinsed with the power of the elements was as good a plan as any to restore control over my own actions”
“Don’t you know that you could have just as easily been turned to stone as cleansed!?” Twilight harshly reprimanded with a stamp of her heel.
“Well it was either that or slowly become an unwilling passenger in my own body while some monster uses my powers to cause havoc” I shot back.
“Wowie, it was scary too! The creepy way it laughed back at me when I tried to giggle it away made my heart rate skyrocket!” She punctuated the statement by jumping higher in the air than should have been possible for a non-Valkyrian.
“All things considered, what I do know is that I’ve had a long day, what with giving Blueblood a royal beat down, moving to a new town, being possessed by my own illusion, and bearing the full brunt of being blasted with the friendship cannon… I’m quite exhausted” I heaved a fatigued sigh.
“You did what to Blueblood!?” Rarity exclaimed with a shout.
“I beat the stuffing out of Blueblood, the guy forced me into a duel with him in order to seize my title and all the privileges that come with it. That blew up in his face and now I’m extorting him into becoming something resembling a decent human being by holding his lost title over him and making the wretch earn it back” I explained with an amused smirk, proud of that one achievement.
“Oh you must tell me more about it later! I absolutely abhor that pathetic excuse for a man! Let alone a Prince!” Rarity enthusiastically implored of me, to which I agreed with a nod.
“Heh, any guy that would whale on the scumbag that mistreated Rarity is fine by my standards” Rainbow said with an approving thumbs up.
“What about all those people that you- I mean the illusion frightened?” Twilight inquired of me next.
“I think it’s a bit too soon to go find them and apologize doncha’ think? I probably scared them half to death! Especially the girl in the devil getup” I murmured at the end, feeling ashamed at the suffering that I caused her.
“Her name’s Golden Harvest, but most people just call her Carrot top!” Pinkie told me as we walked through the forest and back in the direction of the town.
“Then I’ll be extra certain to make it up to Carrot top in the future, just not tonight” I assured them all.
“Okay then, just so long as you do it. I’ve never seen anyone look so haunted before” She muttered mostly to herself, inadvertently rubbing salt in the wound while she was at it.
Once we got back to town, the element bearers escorted me back to Twilight’s place. Of course, that meant cutting through Town Square where I saw the painful image of Carrot top being surrounded by her group of friends as she bawled her eyes out. People around them were warily murmuring amongst themselves as they saw only the element bearers return, while I had cloaked myself again to avoid arousing the people’s ire. Whispering to the others that it was for the best that no one beyond the one’s I’ve wronged know who it was that terrorized them so thoroughly, to which they hesitantly agreed. An initially reluctant Applejack eventually relented too once she realized that putting this whole sordid affair behind us was in everyone’s best interest. We reached the entrance to the library and the group said their farewells while Twilight and I crossed the threshold inside. She led me to her basement where she had set up a guest bed next to her jumbled laboratory equipment. I flopped onto it and was about to drift off without another word when Twilight spoke up.
“Only Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie were granted a veritable window into your life, but I was able to sense a change in your overall mood once the elements finished doing their work. Mind telling me what changed?”
“I’m actually willing to give this friendship thing a shot” I answered as I drew the sheets over my body.
“Really? That’s great!” She exclaimed happily.
“M’hmm” Was my eloquent response.
“Well, good night then Zenith” She said as she climbed the stairs and just before she shut off the lights.
“Goodnight Twilight”
I lazily bid her farewell with a yawn before gradually drifting off to sleep, my last thoughts being about the poetic irony of becoming the latest crazy thing to happen to the town of Magiville.
Rest did not afford me the luxury of a dreamless sleep, I found myself again in the dark void that was the conception canvas surrounded by limitless possibilities. Only this time I did nothing with it, save for summon a leather recliner that I promptly sat upon and began to ruminate on the events of the previous day; though I suppose brooding would be a better word. Although it was only the circumstances surrounding last night that really got to me and made me do some serious reflection. For some as of yet unknown reason, my magic had taken on its own initiative, turning what was supposed to be some good-natured Fright Night pranking into something that could have easily escalated into a mindless and reason sapped nightmare. It made me shudder, were it not for the Element Bearers arriving before I lost complete control over my actions, last night could have become truly violent.
The whole thing made me reassess the capabilities of my newfound magic. It was primarily directed and shaped by will, but if last night’s near catastrophe was any indication, it could also be partially usurped should a second entity also grab a hold of the reins so to speak. All things considered, I resolved to be more diligent with the utilization of my magic in case something like that should ever occur once more. My thoughts shifted towards the victims of my joking gone horribly wrong, particularly that of Golden Harvest. Just how in the world was I supposed to go about apologizing? ‘Oh hello miss Harvest, I just wanted to say that I was terribly sorry for scaring the ever loving ghost out of you. Yes I realized that what I did was both irresponsible and downright sinister, but I was just getting into the Fright Night spirit of things! What’s that? You’re getting a restraining order and filing a lawsuit against me for grievous emotional harm? I didn’t even know they had those here!’
I shook my head and sighed in exhaustion despite being asleep, the action resulting in a soft breeze that was the only sound to break the heavy silence looming over the blank void. While I didn’t have to worry about that now, I would eventually have to make good on my word that I would express my sincerest apologies to Carrot top and possibly her cadre of friends as well. I don’t know just how forgiving these people could be but my actions probably push that sentiment to the limits, there was also the matter of keeping my identity intact. I wasn’t going to just outright say that it was I that stalked them and set up the plot for their future nightmares for weeks to come, I had to be subtle about it. But at the same time, I had to confront her about this face to face or I wouldn’t be seen as legitimately repentant.
My musing was cut short by the sound of distinctive knocking in the pattern of ‘shave and a haircut’ echoing throughout my mind. I conjured some wooden paneling to rap my knuckles on and respond with the ‘two bits’ affirmative, entirely disregarding how that call and response tune even existed over here. The sudden screeching of bats assaulted my ears as a cloud of them appeared and mingled together before dispersing and revealing one very ecstatic looking Princess Luna. I lightly inclined my head as I welcomed the most frequent visitor to my head.
“Greetings Luna, I trust your favorite holiday went well?”
She clapped her hands together and spouted gleefully, “Twas most wondrous Zenith! The city of Delphia was most welcoming to us despite the macabre origins to our once feared festive day. The people engaged in wearing the most interesting of outfits and proliferating the dissemination of various sweets, all in the name of their Princess of the night!”
“I’m happy for you Luna, there can be little doubt as to whether or not your subjects at least show some appreciation for your works” I was still a little bitter about not enjoying some of those sweets myself, but my meager grievances were heavily outweighed by my careless deeds.
“And we are most grateful for that, but enough about our experiences. Prithee, how was your first taste of our glorious Fright Night?” She asked me, summoning an appropriately themed chair for herself and looking at me expectantly.
I exhaled tentatively, “It was…eventful. I certainly followed the time-honored tradition of taking on an appearance most fearsome and scaring the daylights out of people”
“We sense there is more to this explanation than that” She observed.
“Well…” I scratched the back of my head, “I may have kind of… been possessed by my own magic and became a monster that fed on fear”
I interjected before Luna could react, “But! Thanks to the element bearers and the elements themselves, I’ve been restored to my previous condition”
“Thou speakest truly? The elements have exposed you to their power?”
“Indeed, it was certainly… an enlightening incident. It’s made me rethink a few things since then” I commented speculatively, remembering what the Harmonic energies stirred within me.
She seemed to be in awe, almost stupefied by that, “Do you know how it was that you were undermined by your magic?” She asked.
I shook my head, “I was hoping you could shed some light on that actually, what happened last night should not have occurred in the first place. My magic is something intrinsic, I was not aware that its control could be wrested away from me to begin with” I remarked with a shrug.
She looked deep in thought, “May we see into your memories? Perhaps if we were to see it for ourselves, we could reinforce our suspicions before we inform you of any inferences”
“Of course, the more I know about this, the more likely I can prevent it from recurring ever again”
The lady of the night then drew closer before placing a soft hand on my head and a feeling not unlike ice liquid began to soak into my cranium, causing me to fidget a little.
“Bring the memories of that specific happening to the forefront of your mind” She instructed, to which I complied. It took a couple of minutes (or at least it felt like it did) with Luna displaying multiple reactions from shock to concern and finally quiet astonishment. The bright glow from her moonstone focal gem eventually died down and the icy grip of her magic gradually subsided. She looked deep in thought before finally speaking her mind.
“This is most disconcerting, the presence I felt that was infecting your mind bears some minor similarity to the darkness that once consumed me, like an echo or a shadow of the past” She spoke retrospectively, her expression darkening as she did so.
“On a side note, we find it most delightful to find that we are not the only one seeking to find fulfilling friendships. And you could find no better than in the element bearers, they’re the one’s who aided us during our first Fright Night” She said with a smile.
“I’m aware” I commented, “So I take it that your sister did not tell you about my ‘assignment’ here or how I still have some misgivings about it?”
She shook her head, “Not at all, our sister’s business is her own, as is ours. Although I am quite sure that everyone has their doubts about trying new things, we were no exception. But I believe there is a saying about how nothing ventured results in nothing gained” She sagely advised.
“I can’t argue with wisdom like that, we have a similar saying back home that matches almost word for word”
She gave me a strange look, “You still speak of your heartland as if it were your domicile, but what about the one that you belong to now?”
“I’ll be honest Luna, it’ll be a while before I come to look upon this place as my new home. I’ve spent the majority of my life elsewhere after all. But perhaps I can still remain true to the memories of both my old home and this new land that I find myself a participant in”
“A compromise of the spirit then, we must lend credit to you Zenith, there are not many we know that can handle the displacement from their home in such a calm and composed manner”
“I never saw anything practical about wringing my hands and feeling angst over something that I cannot change. Unless I somehow come across a way home in the form of a portal or a Stargate, then I will firmly stand by my outlook on the matter” She seemed confused with some of my wording but nodded in concurrence.
“In all our considerable years on this Earth, we have never encountered any kind of magic that had the power to traverse the cosmic veil beyond this macrocosm. Even if there were a spell capable of sending you back, sifting through the no doubt countless worlds to determine which one you belonged to would prove to be an impossible obstacle to overcome. The odds of you ever returning to the land of your birth are quite low” She told me with a neutral tone, knowing that she was trampling all over a sensitive topic but remaining staunchly truthful.
“Gee, when you put it that way, I might as well stop thinking about home altogether” I dryly commented with a roll of my eyes.
“We meant no offense of course!” Luna hastily amended, but I waved it off since it didn’t really bother me.
“So you mentioned something about the entity that hijacked my body without me noticing bearing a similarity to the darkness that overtook you?”
“Verily, its taint was of nearly identical malevolence. We will never forget how it twisted us into a vile mockery of our former self merely due to our misplaced jealousy” She spat contemptuously, her brow furrowed at the wretched reminder of how far she fell.
“But how could it somehow find me and take over without me being immediately made aware? All I did was cast an illusion spell over myself and stalk some festive partakers near an stony effigy of the Night Terror in the forest” I expressed with considerable confusion, not at all knowing where things went wrong.
“It was a strange form that you picked, we shudder at how grotesque the creatures of your imagination are. It could have been frighteningly lethal had you lost complete control over it” Luna noted with a pensive tone, staring at me like I was a mystery that needed unraveling… or a potential problem that needed rectifying. I decided to put some faith in her clemency and let that disturbing thought slide.
“There are those who believe that there is more to the Slender man than just imagination, but I’m pretty sure it’s just the Internet’s favorite boogeyman. Still, it’s best that you don’t ask about it, I don’t want to chance the possibility of it actually existing here and beckoning it closer with acknowledgement, that would be giving it power over you” She looked befuddled by my warning, but heeded me anyway. She inhaled deeply before revealing to me her thoughts on what happened to me last night.
“It may only be a far fetched conjecture, but we have been told that when we were banished to the moon, not all of our black magic was banished with us. This leads us to believe that there are faint traces of our ancient evil still haunting the grounds near our now doubtlessly decrepit Neverfree castle”
“So when I was shadowing the group in the woods, some of that darkness found and somehow latched onto me?” I speculated, to which she nodded.
“Perhaps, when we devolved into the Night Terror, the only priorities on our rage addled agenda were spreading darkness and fear all across the lands with the intention of solidifying our power. Not even giving a second thought about how disastrous it would have been for all life on this good Earth had we succeeded. We may not have appreciated the method with which our sister used to subdue us, but we have come to see since then that it was for the best”
I could see that this topic was getting to her despite her best efforts to hide it, so I did something that I rarely ever did, I got up from my dream recliner and embraced her in what I hoped was a comforting hug. She tensed up as though she were surprised before becoming slack and returning the gesture. I used that moment to remind her that I still backed her a hundred percent, come hell or high water.
“Princess of the Night, we are all flawed individuals that make mistakes and sometimes lose sight of what’s right. But what’s important is that we rebound and keep going strong, if not for our own sake then for the sake of those around us. If ever you encounter those fools who still naively think you to be a monster from the old tales and slander your good name as a result, then fie on them! You’ve come a long ways since first returning from your exile, and I’m sure it’s been a bumpy trip, but I’ve no reservations about your resolve to make up for lost time and reestablish yourself as a premier sovereign of Arcania right alongside your loving sister. Someone who counted the days until she could see you again and hold you close after such a considerable absence. She, who even meticulously planned things in advance so that you could be redeemed and the elements be realized by their new bearers” I wasn’t making any of this up since Celestia told me herself during one morning over tea, it was only time I’ve ever seen the normally imperturbable monarch shed tears. I mean… I was just sitting there somewhat awkwardly contemplating what I was supposed to say in response to such heartfelt emotion, but it turned out that silence was the only thing needed to convey that I understood her completely.
We eventually pulled away from each other; Luna’s eyes were misty but held deep gratitude for my solicitude.
“We thank you for your kindness. We’ve had so much time to readjust to the world since our banishment, but every once and a while we lose hold of ourselves and regress into an emotional wreck most unbefitting of our royal station”
“Anytime Luna, so your old castle is haunted by the ghosts of your past? Is there anything I can do to put them to rest so this kind of thing never happens again?” I inquired, to which she affirmed after a moment’s pondering.
“We know of a spell that can capture and contain dark essences with the intention of vanquishing them, but it requires direct line of sight on the specter for it to be successfully cast. We will instruct you in its usage now”
She touched a finger to my forehead and her moonstone bindi lit up as a surge of information was uploaded directly into my mind. The instructions were relatively simple, although this spell required the addition of one’s voice as well. This marked it as reliant on incantation, a school of magic that was rather obscure in Arcania but more prevalent in far away lands like the savannahs of Zstarasia if the books in Twilight’s tower were to be believed. Based on my limited knowledge of the subject, the words themselves were seemingly Latin like in their form and pronunciation. As swift as the flow of data came, it stopped, with the silvery light of the night bringer’s focal gem dimming as I blinked a couple of times to refocus my foggy vision.
“We would ask a favor of you Zenith” The Princess stated, staring me dead in the eyes with a business like demeanor.
“Name it your highness, and I will certainly take it into account”
“The Neverfree castle has abandoned for over a millennium now. But during the haste of its evacuation and the people’s relocation to the city of Concordia, many priceless relics and tomes were left behind; of which was one such book that holds tremendous sentimental value to both our self and our sister”
“You wish for me to retrieve it for you?” I guessed as I rubbed my temples, still reeling from having the knowledge of casting the vanquish spell copy pasted into my head.
“Indeed, do this for us Zenith and we will be indebted to you”
“I’d do it anyway, it’s been a while since I’ve delved into anything with some history behind it” I remarked with a shrug before remembering a certain question that I’ve been wanting to ask her ever since we started having these dream talks together.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, are you able to manifest yourself in multiple dreams or just one at a time?” She seemed confused by my request but answered after a moments pause.
“It is possible for us to project our self in more than one dream at a time. But we find it a most taxing endeavor; it is far more efficient for us to quell nightmares one at a time. And since most of our subjects tend to have pleasant dreams, it wouldn’t be necessary anyway. Why dost thou ask?”
“Idle curiosity” I responded inattentively, noticing how large sections of the conception canvas were cracking and fracturing apart, with beams of white light peering between the gaps.
“It appears as though our discussion is at an end. Be well Zenith, we will speak again soon” Luna slowly faded away into the darkness as I came to.
⁂
A door opened with a small squeaking of its hinges as streams light invaded my eyes like a swarm of angry hornets stinging at my corneas. I heard the soft patter of footsteps against the wooden stairs as someone descended to where my dozing form lay upon the guest bed. Judging from how they sounded slightly heftier than the only other occupant in the Treebrary, I gathered that it was Celestia’s favored student come to wake me. Despite the hours of sleep that I caught I was still feeling a bit drained, I had a faint suspicion that the conception canvas kept my mind active when it should have been getting some shuteye itself. I felt a gentle prodding in my side as Twilight’s voice crooned to me.
“Time to wake up Prince Zenith, you’ve got a big day today you know?”
I groaned and rolled over in response, “Drop the Prince title… and I can’t brain today, I have the dumb. Come back in a good four hours or something” Prompting a slight giggle out of the librarian.
“Alright then, I’ll just go tell Spike to disregard making breakfast for the three of us in that case” To complete the bluff she strolled back up the stairs in an agonizingly slow pace to let her devious threat sink in.
‘Damn, how did she know that food was one of my many one weaknesses!?’
I muttered something unintelligible in frustration before finally rousing myself out of the bed. Based on the weird sensation pulsing on the side of my head, I could have only assumed that I slept on it funny and mussed up my hair too. I all but stomped my way up to the smug appearing average sized girl wearing a preppy looking outfit before growling out a question.
“Would you kindly point me in the direction of a washroom please?”
“Feel like cleaning yourself up before facing the world?” She asked in a thoroughly amused tone.
I wasn’t having any of it, “Sometime this morning, miss Sparkle” I pressed somewhat impatiently.
She craned her head sideways and gave me a vaguely annoyed glance for my crotchety attitude, “Just Twilight will do, please. You’re not much of morning person are you?”
“I’ll have you know that I’m equally agreeable regardless of the time I get up, it’s one of the benefits to being a night lark after all. It’s just that an unkempt Zenith is an irritable Zenith, so just tell me where I can complete my morning routine and I’ll be on my merry way” I punctuated the statement with a roll of my hands, Twilight was admirably undeterred by my abrasive manner and did as I asked.
The bathroom for the Golden oaks library wasn’t on the first floor, as I had initially believed. Instead I had to trudge upstairs past the excruciatingly delicious aromas that were drifting from the kitchen area, where Spike was most likely whipping up breakfast. I entered the restroom nook and proceeded with grooming myself to at least look presentable before seeing what the mouthwash flavor of the day was. After gargling the strangely refreshing taste of rocky road, I exited the cramped washroom and followed my nose to the breakfast table. The sizzling crackle and heavenly odor of what could have only been bacon greeted my olfactory senses like a long lost friend. I had long since gotten over the shock of meat actually existing in this strange variant of Equestria, especially when my stomach was angrily demanding that I fill it with something nutritious.
I strode into the library’s kitchen to see the rather intriguing sight of Spike lording over a series of frying pans while wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. In his hand, a spatula served as his scepter, while his crown was some kind of miniaturized toque that was colored green for some reason. He was cheerfully humming some tune that I couldn’t place as he switched between the task of scrambling some eggs while making sure that the bacon didn’t burn too much on one side. The cast iron stove was a little eighteenth century for my tastes, but I suppose not all kitchens were going to be modernized in a society with a schizophrenic relationship with technology. I didn’t see Twilight anywhere in the room so I assumed that she was occupied with something else.
I traipsed up next to the half human hybrid and silently watched his techniques, curious to see how the only other guy I’ve seen in this land performing what was seemingly viewed as a feminine social role made breakfast for the household. He was either unaware of my presence or completely oblivious because I stood there a good three minutes before he took note of me with a loud yelp.
“By the Princesses! How long have you been standing there?” He exclaimed, nearly knocking over one of the pans as he swiveled to face me.
“Long enough to know that your cooking technique is good, that bacon looks fried to near perfection” I complimented his work, not that fry cooking was all that complicated, underwater basket weaving on the other hand...
He scratched the back of his head in a bashful manner, “Uh… thanks! It’s a skill I’ve picked up over the years, what with Twilight spending more time with her nose in books than picking up practical skills like cooking for herself. But that’s why she has me as her number one assistant!” He proudly gestured with a thumb towards himself.
“She’s very fortunate to have you, I’m sure” I said as I gave the delicious looking food a once over, I felt my stomach rumble a bit as I appraised the vittles like a hungry shark about to bite into a school of fish.
“Wow, you’re kinda tall up close you know?” Spike randomly remarked, glancing up at me.
“Am I? Last time I checked I was only above average height, nothing remarkable” I replied with some bemusement, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary about myself lately.
“No way dude! You’re almost Big Macintosh’s height and he’s one of the biggest guys I know!” He declared fervently.
‘Oh boy, don’t tell me I’m literally growing into my role as a Trifect’ This wasn’t something that bothered me that much, but I didn’t want to become some lanky looking person that stuck out in a crowd, it made hiding in plain sight a tad difficult. I mentally shrugged to myself, come what may; I’ll be fine. I’m practically the spirit of apathy sometimes.
“I’ll take your word for it” I spoke with casual indifference, Mister Tummy doesn’t share my acedia however, “So is brecky almost finished? Cause I’m feeling a mite peckish at the moment”
“Yup! Just give me a moment and I’ll have the whole table set up!”
“I’ll help, what to you need me to do?” I politely offered.
“You don’t have to do anything, Twilight said that you’re our guest!” The tweenage (man-drake?) resisted with a shake of his head.
“Exactly, what kind of houseguest would I be if I didn’t offer my services around the place?” I countered pointedly, this was one of those things that was hammered into my upbringing and I’d be damned before I let myself forget that.
“Well, if you insist. Just grab some of the plates in the cupboards and set them on the table” I did as he said and retrieved the required platters before placing them on the medium sized wooden table. Spike came around with the pans and allotted to each plate the amount of food appropriate to their respective owners, I was especially pleased with the large serving he put on mine. It was at that time that Twilight came in with yet another stack of papers and a glint in her eye that said that I was in for a round of twenty (thousand) questions as soon as we were done eating.
‘If Twilight even has the courtesy to let me stuff my face in peace’ I cynically griped to myself, I’m a fair bit grouchier if I don’t have food in my stomach.
“Good morning everybody!” She happily chirped right before giving Spike a loving peck on the forehead, “Thanks for making breakfast again Spike”
He seemed flustered at having his caretaker show that kind of compassion in front of guests, but playfully took it in stride, “Don’t I make it every morning by default? Especially since that one time where you tried surprising me with breakfast in bed but somehow managed to burn even the orange juice!”
“Spike!” The librarian exclaimed, her cheeks lighting up with a reddish tinge, “We agreed to let that event stay in the past where it belonged! Besides, I’ve gotten a little better with the lessons that Applejack and Pinkie gave me. They even told me that I was passably okay”
“They were humoring you Twilight, even Pinkie thought you were a lost cause. The way she grieved over those charred cupcakes, you’d think it was her first born or something” He snickered at her expense, much to her mounting frustration. While I was mildly amused, I decided not to make her ribbing any worse by sharing in the mirth.
“Moving on, would you mind terribly if I picked your brains afterwards Pri-…Zenith?” The young woman inquired of me, almost dropping the despicable P word.
“And just what did my brain do to you to deserve such an unsavory treatment?” I responded, eliciting a chuckle out of Spike and an eye roll from Twilight.
“You remember when I said that I was curious about you and your status as the first male Trifect ever right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, I put my trousers on one leg at a time just like everyone else…although I suppose having magic means I could somehow just automatically apply them to myself now” I spoke mostly to myself at the end as I stroked my chin in idle thought.
“You may not think much of it, but this is a huge deal. Never before in Arcanian history has anyone else besides the Princesses held the raw power that they do. The Royal sisters have been around since the founding of the nation and were present when Discord caused havoc across the land and they subdued him with the elements. The only other Trifect to join their ranks was Princess Cadence and that was centuries ago! Then just out of the blue, I’m informed that we’d receive a guest who just so happens to be another Trifect and a true Prince no less? Yes, that’s a big deal!” She passionately spouted, almost rising up from her seat as she did so.
“Woah Twilight! No need to bring your scholarly angst to the breakfast table, this is time to relax and share a pleasant meal with our guest remember?” Spike interceded, wanting to keep the peace... and enjoy the fruits of his labor.
She sighed, “You’re right Spike, sorry about that. I know I can get a little uppity about these things, lets just take things one at a time and savor the most important meal of the day” She grabbed her utensils and started to dig into the eggs, signaling the rest of us to start eating.
I don’t why but something about the last part of that sentence triggered a random vision in my head where I was the one in the chef’s outfit doing a little jig and singing ‘♫ The most important meal of the day. Servin’ it up, Zenith’s way! ♫’ I rubbed my forehead extensively; I needed some food right now before my thoughts got any weirder. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer of grace before grabbing my fork and sampling the eggs, they were good but required something that I’d probably never find here.
‘What I wouldn’t give for a bottle of Cholula right now’
The eggs were all right, but the bacon was practically perfection. It was the right amount of crunchy and chewy for my liking, but I wasn’t the one vocalizing my delight. Across the table, Twilight was making the most ribald sounding noises as she shoveled down the bacon. It was an incredibly awkward situation but since Spike had no reaction to it whatsoever, I had to assume that it was a common occurrence. I did my best to ignore it and focused on finishing my breakfast. Given how hungry I was, I pretty much inhaled my food and placed my dishes in the sink before anyone else. I also took the liberty of cleaning off my dishes using the sponge and some dish soap. I then excused myself for the main chamber of the treebrary where I left my things.
I grabbed my backpack and pulled out my laptop before sitting down on the same beanbag that I used yesterday. I may have forgotten to mention it, but for some inexplicable reason my laptop could still get a wi-fi signal. I tried tracing the source back, but the only thing I could find was that it was an unknown connection. When that failed, I tried using social media sites to see if I could reach out to anyone back home, only for nothing to be posted or for it to be frozen. I could still access the majority of the Internet, but nothing that could allow me to communicate with people back in Cali. It was very aggravating, like being bruised and bleeding yet within reach of a first aid kit, only to find the pouch empty of any analgesics and full of stinging rubbing alcohol instead.
It occurred to me that having this device out probably wasn’t the wisest idea, Twilight could walk in at any time and I really didn’t want to explain to her what the internet was and why she had to stay away from it; and not just because I’d probably never see it (or her) ever again. That horrific thought of her discovering a site like 4Chan or worse, kept clawing at me like an angry honey badger. Not to mention that I would also have to explain to her how my idea for my illusion spell came from the very same object since my wallpaper was currently Slenderized, although I had been wanting to explain to her that my illusion’s cloaking abilities weren’t actually invisibility since I could still make out my physical self (light has to enter your eyes for you to see after all; which isn’t possible if it passes through you. This meant that my spell probably acted as some kind of powerful perception filter instead). This to me was proof that science still held some things over magic in this land.
I quickly slapped the lid down and shuffled it away right as Twilight came in the room with her papers. She took the same seat as she did yesterday while I internally prepared myself for a morning spent being interro-… questioned by the prodigal student.
“Before we get down to the grilling session, what’s my agenda for the day?” I asked before she could say anything else.
“Don’t you mean the next week? You’re going to be assisting Applejack with the fall harvest season”
“Harrumph!” I crossed my arms together, “Pawning me off to Applejack as free labor huh? Shame on you Twilight”
“That’s n-not what I meant! I-” She embarrassedly stammered, her breath rate increasing.
Dreading inducing anything even remotely resembling Lesson Zero Twilight, I held up both hands to stop her before she could panic any further, “Relax Twilight, I know what it is you’re trying to do. I’m to learn about the values that Applejack holds dear right?”
“You do know? Then why did you accuse me of taking advantage of you?” She looked mildly besmirched, or offended. Truthfully they were the same exact look in my opinion.
I tilted my head at the question, “Accuse is a strong word. But if there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I’m not always as serious as I look”
“I apologize if I overreacted. It’s just that it’s difficult for me to tell, you know? You’ve always had the same austere expression the whole time I’ve known you, why is that?”
I leaned back into my beanbag seat and gave her an even stare, “What can I say? Buster Keaton was my role model, that and its kind of difficult not to with the worldview I possess”
“Worldview?” She said confusedly, ignoring the unfamiliar name in pursuit of the greater curiosity.
I fixed my sight on the ceiling as I launched into an explanation for why I was the way I was, “I’m a jaded person Twilight Sparkle, I’ve experienced enough intensely jarring things in my near two decades of life that I’ve become rather desensitized to what feels like everything. It’s like seeing the world with a kind of haze descending upon your vision, you can’t help but feel a little bit numb knowing that life has lost that mysterious spark that made your sense of wonder flourish” I likely had no right to still feel that way after the things I’ve recently seen and been through, but my ennui is almost as stubborn as I am.
Twilight was at a loss for words, staring blankly at me with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slightly open. Even though it was probably an insensitive thing to do, I couldn’t help but crack a quip at her incredible impression of a fish
“You’ll catch flies if you keep that expression up Twilight”
She snapped out of her daze like state, “Stars above! How can you hold such a bleak outlook on life!? Especially after being exposed to the elements of Harmony no less?”
I scoffed and leaned forward to make my next point clear, “The elements showed me many things, but they cannot force me to change who I am. That would simply be antithetical to what they are, they’re instruments of a higher power, not brainwashing equipment. They aim to encourage you to improve yourself and foster strong relations with others, as well as safely neutralizing threats to the greater good of us all. With you and your precious friends acting as the conduit through which its power flows” I couldn’t help but feel slightly smug at how much more flabbergasted Twilight looked at my insight. I suppose I should thank my lucky stars that I was still allowed to mystify people like this instead of getting stoned by the friendship blaster.
“Be that as it may, it doesn’t answer why you honestly believe everything you said beforehand. If it were true, how would you even motivate yourself to wake up for everyday? I didn’t even feel that kind of hopelessness when Discord forcibly corrupted my friends and made me temporarily lose faith in both them and myself” She looked down at her lap deep in thought, cringing a little as she relived the memory that she brought out.
“A variety of reasons, partially because I want to see if I can prove myself wrong about the lackluster drag of this existence, and partially because I want to see where this strange life of mine is going” A silence befell us as I allowed my words to sink in.
“Do you still wish to know who I am? I was under the impression that you had inquiries about me personally” I gestured to her stack of papers lying forlorn on the table.
“I was going to, but I’ve decided that can wait. You sir, are in dire need of what my friends and I can instill in you” She stamped her right foot, “I refuse to let this kind of distorted perspective go unabated. My friends and I have overcome untold numbers of challenging obstacles and this stone heartedness of yours will be no different. Princess Celestia sent you here for a reason and I’m betting that this is it!”
‘I’m pretty sure she sent me here to indoctrinate me in friendship’ I had to fight the urge not to say that thought out loud, knowing full well how it would be received by the Princess doting academic.
“You can certainly try Twilight, and I look forward to seeing what you and your friends will come up with to pierce this iron curtain that’s drawn over me”
“We can start right now! How do you feel about meeting one of the liveliest founding families in Magiville?”
“Let me guess, Applejack’s family right?” I postulated in a flat tone. She slumped a little at my lack of enthusiasm, but continued on regardless.
“That’s the one, you’ve certainly done your homework about this place and its history haven’t you? Come on!” She jumped to attention and motioned at me to follow her.
“You have no idea” I dryly commented as I rose from my seat to play follow the leader with the purpose driven librarian.
Twilight led me out the door and onto the cobblestone streets of the appositely named Magiville. The streets were alive with the commotion of commoners going about their functions, browsing the market place for freshly produced groceries, flipping the open-closed signs on their place of business’ windows, or even stopping by to chat with their friends and shoot the daily breeze. The first two things to stuck out to me were the severely skewed gender ratio (one guy to every six girls) and how remarkably Caucasian everyone was. The first was a given, but with how colorfully diverse their equine counterparts were, you’d think that same facet would be reflected over here too. But nope, this town was very much a whitewashed community with their wacky hair and iris colors being the only visually distinguishing factors. I was secretly thankful that my phenotype took after my maternal grandfather or my uniquely mixed heritage could have potentially attracted some unwelcome and questioning stares.
Something about this town just screamed tight knit and insular, and not just because I knew how they looked upon outsiders like Zecora (who I was still rather interested in meeting in the flesh). One could tell based on how critical these denizens were of each other. From what I could hear of the faint conversations people were having, they were either having friendly colloquies or gossiping to each other about who did this and whatnot. I gulped to myself, I had a sinking feeling that I was for all intents and purposes cast into a town of sorority cliques that would just as readily make judgments about you than shake your hand and give you the time of day or directions. I set myself on staying away from outdoors and being one with the shadows whenever I was outside as a precaution.
Call me asocial, but just being near these type of people got under my skin and made me shiver in discomfort. The feeling was only exacerbated when I noticed many of them directing their attention towards me and whispering to each other so quietly that even my sensitive hearing could not pick up on more than a few hushed words. From what little I could reliably discern, they were mostly commenting on the strangeness of my vicinity to Twilight and how uncommon it was to see her in the company of… and I quote ‘Such a robust looking fellow’ and how privileged she was to be the Princess’ star student.
‘Are these people shipping me with Twilight already?’ I shuddered involuntarily. Great, this was going to be one of those small towns.
It certainly did not aid matters that Twilight was taking a rather leisurely pace to get to wherever she was leading me. I could already feel some stares on my posterior and hushed giggling coming from all around me. I absolutely despised being the center of attention when it was in such a tasteless manner. I goaded the heedless librarian into increasing her speed by clearing my throat and walking slightly ahead of her. She seemed to notice my unease and gave voice.
“Something bothering you Pr-… Zenith?” She was getting better at suppressing the deferential title at least.
“You ever get the feeling that you’re secretly being monitored, and the people doing it are making an atrocious effort of concealing it?” I realized only a moment later the sheer irony of my question.
“Umm, not really. Why do ask?”
I shook my head, “Never mind Twilight, so where is this Sweet Apple Acres?”
She cast a suspicious glance my way as we made our way through the center of the town, “And just how did you know that’s where Applejack’s family lives?”
“Who in Arcania hasn’t heard of the famous Sweet Apple Acres located in the pristine and picturesque town of Magiville?” I countered. Many of their fruit themed wares were sold even on the streets of the capital city, by close relatives of theirs no less.
“I suppose you’re right, and to answer you, it’s located to the southwest of the town. It’s probably a good fifteen minute walk from the town square itself”
‘At this snail’s pace, more like twenty five minutes’ I hated walking slow, but abandoning Twilight just because I was impatient seemed like a very ungentlemanly thing to do.
“What else can you tell me about Magiville?” I asked, appealing to her educative side in order to pass the time.
I almost regretted doing so, because the moment I did that enigmatic gleam in her eye from yesterday returned full force. She launched into a full-blown verbal discourse concerning the history of the town, from its humble roots as a potential place to settle for a wagon train consisting of mainly Agrarians and some Stellar Magi looking for fertile lands to colonize (or recolonize, if the shrouded history of the forest next to it was any indication). They had wandered in the times before until they finally went to the capital city in order to ask for advice from the Princess who proceeded to point them in that direction. I strongly suspected that Celestia didn’t just suggest them settling there on a whim, she was either highly clairvoyant or just had unnaturally good intuition.
She went on to explain how Applejack’s grandmother, Annabelle Smith made an incredible discovery in the forest one night (although it was some of that teenage rebelliousness railing against being told to stay away from the Neverfree) that turned the yet unnamed settlement into a designation firmly emblazoned onto the local maps. Despite already having a solid idea of what it was she discovered; I pretended to implore Twilight to resume her telling of the events. Turns out that the young and very agog Annabelle discovered an incredibly magical fruit that she dubbed a Zapple, a colorful fruit that had an equally colorful taste that was ‘Not too tart, not too sweet, just right’. This to me immediately brought to mind the image of Goldilocks, made even more intriguing by the fact that Granny Smith had blonde hair when she was young too. I shook my head and smirked, just another tally mark on the ‘strange coincidences’ scoreboard.
It wasn’t as easy as she made it seem though. Because the moment that Annabelle’s fingers wrapped around the hypnotic fruit, ferocious predators taking in the form of wooden wolves emerged from the brush intent on preventing her from leaving the forest with her newly discovered prize in tow. So Annabelle high tailed it out of there, her pursuers hot on her tail and literally nipping at her heels. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, she burst out of the tree line and entered the family cabin, grabbing pots and pans to clang together and alert the other members of the family that danger was afoot. This had an unexpected reaction though; the harsh noise generated from the clanging metal was severe enough on the timber wolves sensitive hearing that they beat a hasty retreat back into the Neverfree.
The Apple family began to cultivate the strange Zapple fruit and discovered all of the strange quirks and eccentricities involved in its growth and harvesting. The exact details of which were a closely guarded family secret. The turning point of the whole occurrence however, was when Annabelle offered some Zapple jam to an ambitious traveling entrepreneur with deep pockets. Someone who saw the vast potential in Zapple flavored commodities the first moment the tremendous tang tantalized his taste buds. That man’s name was Stinkin’ Rich, who chose to open up a permanent general store not far from the Acres with Zapple jam as its premier product; this action bringing in people from all across the land and eventually leading to the foundation of Magiville as it is now.
The was something admirable in the way Twilight retold the tale, from the way her words flowed to where she created suspenseful pauses, it was as if she heard it from the Apple family matriarch herself and was repeating it to me. It was especially engaging how her star shaped amethyst focal gem lit up as she summoned spectral images to illustrate the story as she saw fit. It occurred to me that she hadn’t noticed my lack of similar gem since my hair had begun to grow out enough to cover my forehead. I internally debated whether I should plan on paying a visit to the local barber or just keep it this way to avoid the possibility of an experiment happy Twilight and a stultified Zenith.
Before my musings could reach a definitive conclusion though, we finally reached the outskirts of our destination. I ceased my motion so I could clearly survey and take in my new surroundings.
‘That is a hell of a lot of apple trees. Farming them all must be an absolutely horrific hassle’ I could see why having an extra set of hands helping out on the farm would in all likelihood be a huge boon to the Apple family.
Row upon row of the fruit bearing trees stretched in all directions for what seemed like kilometers on end. The verdant leaves of the wooden apple factories were drinking in the rays of light from the morning sun and instituting the wondrous ongoing process of photosynthesis. The very air itself was thick with the fragrant smell of fresh apples. I supposed this was the part of my life where I traded the crystal motif for an apple themed one for the next week. I shrugged to myself, it could have been a lot worse, and there was a faint allure to the simplistic life of a farmer that I’ve never gotten the chance to fully see for myself and appreciate.
“It’s a lot to take in isn’t it? When I first came to Magiville during the Summer Sun celebration, I could hardly believe so many apple trees could exist in one orchard. The only thing more shocking than that was how warm of a reception the Apple family themselves extended to me”
She placed a hand on her flat stomach, “Although being guilt tripped into gorging myself with pie was a little excessive. I’m glad my metabolism allowed me to get away with it, wouldn’t want to have gained a few unsightly pounds” She nervously giggled at the end, realizing how shallow that last statement was. All I did was raise an eyebrow in response and said nothing; Spock impersonators eat your heart out!
We soon came across the centerpiece of Sweet Apple Acres, the bright red barn and country styled house just behind it. There was no immediate sign of the family save for an inactive Granny Smith in a rocking chair quietly snoozing on the front porch. Even from a distance, she definitely looked the part of an elderly woman, especially with the light green pettiblouse and her hair tied in a bun. We crept past her as silent as a church mouse and entered through the screen door in search of either Applejack or someone who could point us in her direction. The immediate atmosphere of the place gave one a strong homely impression, dust particles danced in the sunlight streaming in through the open windows, framed photographs of family and friends dotted the walls, cupboards and cabinets. Well-worn furniture was placed wherever it was most convenient in that practical country home style. All in all, I’d sum in up in one simple word: cozy.
The clinking of dishes and the sound of running water alerted us to a close householder in the kitchen. The perpetrator took the form of a large man who was built more like a lumberjack than an apple farmer. He was well into the six-footer range and had thick arms that could have been mistaken for oak branches for all of their rippling girth. He was dressed simplistically in jeans and a red-checkered shirt, but it was a look that fit his easygoing lifestyle and quiet manner. If there was ever a person who embodied what it meant to be the strong and silent type, it was this gentle goliath.
Spike was not exaggerating when he said that I was similar in height to him, although how I failed to notice this was beyond me. I merely thought that most people here were on the short side and just wrote it off. Even though the creaky screen door already announced our presence, Big Macintosh continued to serenely wash the dishes from early morning breakfast as Twilight and I ambled into the kitchen area.
“Good morning Mister Macintosh, might I ask where I could find Applejack? I’d like to talk to her” Twilight inquired.
“She’ll be down shortly, reckon’ she’s gettin dressed at the moment” He answered, not taking his gaze off his duties for a single second.
“Great! We’ll just wait in the living room I guess” He nodded in return and focused on his task while we let him be and sat down on the sofa with the frilly apple embroidered pillows.
“I think you’ll like it here, as I said before, the Apple family are a very welcoming bunch” Twilight cheerfully chirped.
“So I take it I’ll be staying here for the next week? Just lending support for the fall harvest?” She nodded, “How do they go about harvesting all of that fruit anyway? I imagine that hand picking them all would take ages given how many trees there are to cull”
“They do hand pick them, but they do have more than one standard method used for collecting them en mass” She explained as we waited patiently for her blond haired friend.
“So couldn’t I just use my magic to speed up the process? It would save a heckuva lotta time” I reasoned, doing something as repetitive as picking apples all day sounded boring as hell.
“That’s something you’ll have to ask Applejack. An important thing you should know about the Apples is that they’re a very traditionalist family with specific reservations regarding the active use of magic on their crops. I was allowed to use mine to help once, but that was because Applejack was the only functioning member on the farm after she won a bet that resulted in Big Macintosh injuring his back, and only after she realized that she couldn’t do it on her own. Though since that isn’t the case anymore…” The librarian trailed off.
“The chances are slim to none then” I surmised, to which she sheepishly confirmed.
I was about to grumble something about how utterly ludicrous that was when we heard the unmistakable sound of heel spurs schlicking as someone descended the stairs. We turned our attention to the staircase to see a bright eyed and bushy tailed Applejack dressed in long re-patched working jeans and brown cowgirl boots with an apple stamped belt buckle and an orange button up shirt (plus her trademark Stetson, although that’s almost always a constant) reach the bottom of the staircase and take notice of her visitors.
“Howdy Twi” Applejack politely greeted her friend before her eyes fell on me, “And uh… you” They flicked back to the lavender librarian, “Can you and I have a private chat Twa’light?” She motioned for Twilight to follow her into the kitchen.
‘Wonderful, she’s leery of me because of last night isn’t she?’ I knew distrust when I saw it, and Applejack was doing a poor job of hiding it.
They sure were taking their time, a good three minutes of harsh sounding whispering later and they came back into the room. Applejack with a begrudging look of acceptance on her face and Twilight with an attempted neutral one but she still looked victorious based on the glimmer in her eye. They sauntered closer to me but Applejack still put some space between her and myself.
“Applejack here graciously offers to receive you and any aid you can lend to her during this week’s fall harvest” Twilight informed me, while Applejack decided that the floor was more interesting than looking at me.
“If that’s so, then why can’t she tell me that herself? She’s not shy is she?” I uncurled a finger in the farmer’s direction from the clenched hand that I was using to prop my head on my knee.
At my prodding, Applejack finally reacted by stomping her foot and causing the spur attached to make chinking sound, “Ah’m not shy! I just don’t trust you is all” She crossed her arms and glared at me in a stern manner.
“Is this because of last night? I’m terribly sorry, but that was something that just spiraled out of my control. How in the world was I supposed to know I would be possessed by one of the dark remnants of the Night Terror’s essence?”
“You were possessed by what!?” Twilight shrieked in surprise, while I face palmed at my foolish disclosure of sensitive information and her excessive overreaction.
“Chill, it’s something that will be handled by someone trained to do it. Not to mention it is something that is also purely between Luna and myself. Royal business you see” That last part wasn’t exactly a fib, but it wasn’t the complete truth either. I couldn’t have been sure what Applejack’s thoughts on that were since her blank face revealed little to nothing.
“I thought that Princess Celestia sent you here to learn more about friendship?”
“She did, I’m just taking a little errand involving the Neverfree castle as a side quest of sorts” I felt somewhat proud at being able to meet my daily quota for gamer lingo.
“Well, I may not like it. But if Princess Luna asked you to do something for her, I suppose I can’t complain” Twilight sighed, while Applejack continued to stare at me with her pretty green eyes as if scanning me for something. I decided to call her out on it.
“Take a picture Applejack, it’ll last a lot longer. Plus I’ll autograph it free of charge! Anything for a fan” I gave her a troll worthy grin, to which she rolled her eyes and stepped out of the house. I watched her as she left, wondering what her deal was.
“Applejack isn’t the type to let bygones be bygones huh?” I rhetorically asked the equally puzzled Twilight.
“She just needs some time to get used to you is all. Although I can’t say you made the greatest first impression by terrorizing Magivillians in such a frightening form” She acerbically reminded me.
“I’ll say, if things went south she probably would have cut me to ribbons with that claymore of hers. Why does she own such a brutal weapon anyway?”
‘Says the guy with a magical Tantō strapped to his backside’ My sarcastic side snipped at me.
“Why do you think?” Twilight glanced at me, “Sweet Apple Acres is only a stones throw away from the Neverfree, a wild and untamed forest teeming with dangerous creatures that sometimes drift from the interior looking for unsuspecting prey. Applejack and Big Macintosh have a young sister and an elderly grandmother that they have to protect you know? What better insurance policy for an Agrarian family than the fine edge of a steel blade?”
“A fair point” I conceded, “Any tips on how to get on her good side? I’m not the greatest at interacting with people, let alone making myself look good in their eyes” She gave me an amused expression at that, clearly not buying it I see.
She put some thought into her answer, “Applejack prizes honesty a good deal, it’s her element after all. So just be yourself and always truthful with her and she’ll warm up to you, she won’t hold a grudge as long as she sees you trying your best to appease her”
I nodded, “Be myself, got it. I don’t think I’ll have too much of an issue with that”
“Hey city boy! Gonna keep me waitin’ much longer?” Applejack’s voice rang from outside, apparently not loud enough to wake Granny Smith though, who continued to peacefully snore while comfortably rested in her rocking chair.
I got up from my seat, “I’d better get to it then, will I see you again anytime this week?” I asked Twilight, who cheeks grew rosy for some reason. Perhaps I said it funny and she mistook it for an amorous undertone.
“Of course! I still have some questions about you and your background remember?” She replied back to me with a smile that could not be trusted as she left for her treebrary.
“Can’t wait” I trenchantly muttered before leaving the house to approach the chary farm girl in front the massive red barn doors.
“Bout’ time ya showed up city boy, was beginnin’ to think you’d changed yer mind about lending us a hand for the fall harvest”
“Believe it or not Applejack, I’m always content with providing aid where it is needed. And please don’t call me city boy, its just plain condescending. I’m not even from the city!”
She raised a critical eyebrow, “Didn’t ya get sent here from Concordia? That’s a city ain’t it?”
“Indeed it is, but I myself am strictly a suburban boy” I explained as I put a hand on my chest to emphasize my meaning.
“Heh, whatever ya say” She swung the large barn door open (My lewd side made a quip about it that was just shameful), “How much do you know bout’ working an apple orchard?” She asked me as she ventured inside to grab some equipment.
“Not much” I responded as I walked inside with her, “Although as far as the technique goes for picking them, it’s better to angle them up and twist than straight up pulling them off of the branches”
“That’s a good first thing to already know, but ya forgot to include the part where you start from the outside and work yer way in” She pulled out some wide wooden buckets with some kind of padding at their bottom and handed some to me.
“Ya drop the apples that you do pick in these here buckets. The paddin’ in em keeps the apples from getting too bruised and is enchanted to keep any pests from gettin’ into em” She explained as she handed more to me to set onto the flatbed wagon.
“Neat”
“Not much fer talkin are ya?” She idly commented, as we continued this imitation of a primitive conveyer belt.
“Not when left to my own devices no, but I suspect that you’re used to that aren’t you?” I said in response, already knowing the answer.
“Ya got me there, unless you poke and prod him into conversation, Big Mac is quieter than a slumbering newborn” Applejack chuckled, before reminding herself that she was giving me the passive aggressive treatment and ceasing her mirth abruptly. I chose to ignore it and focus on the task at hand, stacking the buckets until there were dozens loaded onto the wagon.
I followed Applejack to a set of sandy brown stables that had white fencing surrounding it. I could hear neighs and snorts coming from the inside of the corral. From the tone and pitch, I postulated that there were some large equines housed inside. Applejack jumped the fence and approached the gate leading into the confines of the corral and disappeared into the shady depths. I could just barely hear her coaxing out the creatures within, leading out a pair of massive creatures by the reins and onto the grounds.
“Meet Clyde and Dale, they’re our draft horses” She introduced them while rubbing a hand down each of their muzzles.
“Heh, because they’re Clydesdales. That’s cute” No, I wasn’t actually amused by that.
“Mind openin’ the gate latch for me? These two are mighty eager to stretch their legs but I gotta hook em up to the flatbed” I obliged and watched as she steered the mammoth equines towards the wagon, she then proceeded to saddle them up with the harness and hook each one up to the wagon.
She hopped onto the wooded seating and gave the reins a test flick, with the horses trotting forward a few steps and stopping as if they rehearsed countless times and knew this routine by heart. She gave the space adjacent to herself a loud pat with her hands and invited me aboard; I quickly joined her and relaxed my body as we began moving along a dirt path into the miniature forest that was Sweet Apple Acres. The archaic suspension of the wagon meant that it was quite the bumpy ride, but there was still a quaint charm to being a passenger on such an old fashion vehicle.
“So can I-…” I ventured a question.
“No magic” She refuted before I could even finish speaking.
I gave her a flat stare, “And just who gave you permission to read my mind miss highfalutin element of Honesty?”
She snickered at my indignant response, “Twilight told me, and now ah’m tellin’ you that ya aren’t allowed to touch a single apple with yer magic. That clear?”
“May I ask why not?”
She shook her head, “Cuz that ain’t how we do things round here, ya work the orchard by the sweat of yer brow or not at ‘tall” She directed a smug smile my way, “Are ya really so green that ya haven’t worked an honest day’s labor in yer life?”
I snorted derisively at her insinuation, “I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly aware of what it’s like to work so hard that you come home drenched in your own sweat and feel fires burning in your muscles. I’ve done twelve hour shifts before and it wasn’t duck soup easy stuff where I was sitting on my duff the whole time”
She looked apologetically to the side, “Did ah hit a sensitive spot? Shoot, I ain’t implyin’ that you’re lazy if that’s what ya mean”
“It’s quite alright Applejack, so how’s this going to work out?” I asked of my new boss.
“Ya see that little flag planted there?” Applejack pointed towards one, it had a tiny triangular shape and a number posted on it, “Those we use to separate and categorize each and every acre of our property. We assign ourselves certain acres on specific days, ah’ll start ya off easy with jus’ one”
I did the calculations in my head; an acre was equal to nearly five thousand square yards of land and the trees were spaced apart a good five yards from each other on average. It all added up to a grand sum total of a metric shit ton of trees for me to harvest, by myself.
‘And she expects me to do this without magic!? I’ll be here all day!’
“Right…easy” I nervously chuckled, this was not going to be fun for me.
After a further ten minutes of wading into the vastness of the orchard, Applejack spotted the flag where we were to begin our work and brought Clyde and Dale to heel with a quick pull on the reins. Once we finally rolled to a stop, we exited the wagon and started to offload the buckets and a couple of stepping ladders to reach the apples higher up on the trees; which themselves were unusually short for a land devoid of genetic modification or precise selective breeding. Applejack demonstrated the methods that they used to harvest their apples, either by picking them one by one for the really special breeds that they used to make their famous apple spiced cider, or by using a funny looking flat mallet to pummel the trunk of the tree and make it rain down apples. The second method required the buckets to be perfectly aligned around the trees to catch all of the apples that fell and prevent any from getting dirty (although I was told that they did have a vat for washing them in bulk).
After sufficiently demonstrating that I was capable of grub work, I was given an allocation of buckets, the ladder along with the aforementioned mallet and was sent off into the acre next to Applejack’s. Before that happened however, I was told to work my way down the rows and bring back the buckets to the wagon once they got too full where I could replace them with the spare buckets that we brought along. So for the first three grueling hours I painstakingly plucked apples out of trees that were marked for picking and hammered away at the trees that weren’t. Despite my impressive Trifect stamina and the naturally temperate climate of the fall season, it wasn’t long until rivulets of sweat were beading down my forehead and turning my shirt damp with moisture from the effort. Even though it was probably cheating a bit, I did use my magic to levitate multiple apple baskets back to the cart and take the empty one back with me when I knew that my boss wasn’t watching. She didn’t forbid me from explicitly doing that now did she?
Still, despite all of my grievances against it, there were a few things that I appreciated about working the fields. It was plenty quiet for one; allowing me to be alone with my thoughts, it permitted me to vent frustration in a productive manner by whacking the trees extra hard with the mallet and emptying them in a single swing, and most importantly it entitled me to momentarily forget that I was an outworld stranger with great power thrust upon him along with equivalently substantial responsibilities. At the end of the third hour, I was sanctioned a fifteen minute water break by my boss and was asked to join her as she leaned against some fencing with a jug of refreshing Adam’s ale in hand. I noticed in my peripherals how she vigorously took in my now drenched form and seemed to be admiring it when she thought I wasn’t aware. I didn’t know whether to feel flattered or worried by this, plus I had this strange and foreboding feeling in my gut that it wouldn’t be the last time I would find myself in such a situation either.
“You know sugarcube…” She hesitantly spoke, referring to me with her affectionate epithet for the first time, “I wouldn’t mind if’n ya felt like airin’ out your shirt, Big Mac sometimes does the same and he don’t seemed ashamed by it”
‘First she flat out tells me that she doesn’t trust me, and now a few hours later and she’s possibly flirting with me. What is up with these people? Its like they have a one track mind that’s frequently switching tracks all the time’
“That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m not your brother. That’s a poor excuse for wanting to see me with my shirt off and you know it! Dinner and a movie first sweet stuff” I boldly teased the country girl with a cocksure tone.
Her freckled cheeks went flush with blood and she tried formulating a response, but only these adorable little sputters were eked out. She hastily excused herself back into the area that she was working while I smirked to myself and finished my drink, teasing the badly hidden Applejack further by pouring the leftover water all over myself and whipping my hair back like a regular Fabio. I cackled like a hyena as I returned to my work zone, leaving one thoroughly embarrassed Applejack in my wake.
A couple more hours passed as I did my rounds and the afternoon sun hung in the sky like an overhead lamp. The boring rinse and wash procedure of apple gathering had finally gotten to me and I decided to spice things up by conjuring the sound sphere and having it play something groovy. I boogied back and forth between the trees and did my chore while singing along to the lyrics. This was a rare opportunity for me to cut loose and I took to it wholeheartedly, although it helped that I was the only one in the immediate vicinity.
“♫ It ain't no joke, I'd like to buy the world a toke, And teach the world to sing in perfect harmony, And teach the world to snuff the fires and the liars, Hey, I know it's just a song but it's spice for the recipe
This is a love attack, I know went out but it's back, It's just like any fad, it retracts before impact, And just like fashion, it's a passion for the with it and hip, If you got the goods, they'll come and buy it just to stay in the clique
So don't delay, act now, supplies are running out, Allow if you're still alive, six to eight years to arrive, And if you follow, there may be a tomorrow, But if the offer is shun, you might as well be walkin' on the Sun
Twenty-five years ago, they spoke out and they broke out, Of recession and oppression and together they toked, And they folked out with guitars around a bonfire, Just singin' and clappin', man, what the hell happened there?
Some were spellbound, some were hell bound, Some they fell down and some got back up, And fought back against the melt-down, And their kids were hippie chicks or hypocrites, Because fashion is smashin' the true meaning of it- ♫”
I was going to revert back to the chorus with a spinning flourish when I heard raucous laughter coming from somewhere above me. My focus was thrown out of whack and my sound sphere actually shut off with a record scratch sound effect. I squinted upwards to see one Rainbow Dash nearly rolling off of the cloud she was using to spy on me with loud guffaws. She was so entertained by my shuffle routine that she was still choking back her amusement even once she realized that her cover was blown. She fluttered down from her perch to likely torment me over what she saw.
“Wow dude, I think Twilight might actually have some serious competition for the title of worse dancer ever”
‘Ouch, my feelings’
I shrugged, “Maybe I’m just pioneering a new form of whistling while I work”
“More like pioneering a new form of violent spazzing. I’ve never seen anything like that, and I deal with Pinkie on a regular basis. That was a pretty rad song though, what was it?” She asked me as I continued working, my peace of mind (and manly pride) now in tatters.
“It’s a little something by a band called Smash Mouth back where I’m from. They had some pretty snazzy tunes that I occasionally listened to” I turned the topic to her, “Is there a specific reason you decided to drop in?”
“Nah, I just got off work after clearing the sky in record time and decided to stop by and say hi to AJ. But then I heard that song and ventured closer just in time to catch the unforgettable spectacle of you attempting to dance and work at the same time. It’s too bad I didn’t have my camera” She chuckled some more, much to my dismay.
‘Just you wait Skittles…just you wait’ I seethed.
“Well I’m glad you could make light of my ghastly dancing skills, thanks. Applejack is in that direction, have a nice day” I pointed a thumb in the opposite direction and levitated some baskets toward another tree that I prepared to wallop.
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything negative by it! You just need some practice is all, I could help with that if you wanted” She offered as a gesture of placation.
“Oh, so now you’re a dance instructor?” I quipped as I drew back with the mallet, slamming it against the bark of the tree with a mighty ‘wham!’ and felling all of the reddish fruits.
“You bet! I’m a girl of many talents, it comes with the awesomeness” She boasted as she hovered close to me.
“So how would you like to ra-”
“No”
It was her turn to give me an indignant look, “You didn’t even let me finish speaking!”
“I’m not racing you anytime soon Dash” I flatly denied her.
“And why not!? You afraid of getting your ass handed to you by a girl?” She jeered.
I sighed in exasperation and held up two fingers, “Look Rainbow, the way I see it. One of two things will happen if I agree: I race you and lose by a mile, in which case you’ll no doubt be insufferable and rub it in my face. Therefore make me resent agreeing in the first place OR I totally smoke you and flip your whole ‘fastest flyer in Arcania’ world upside down, resulting in some kind of cliché spiral of depression and self doubt where for some reason, I have to be the one to pull you out of it by telling you that you don’t have to be the faster flyer to still be the most awesome girl and element of loyalty in all the world” I finished ranting as she stared at me with a shocked expression.
“Where did that come from?” She asked after a long pause.
“Sorry, just got some pent up stress that needs venting. Think I’ll smack this next tree extra hard as a means of release” It was a complete excuse, but she pressed the issue no further.
“Right… well I guess I'll go say hi to Applejack now” She hesitantly spoke, slowly inching away.
“M’hmm” Was my curt response, piling on the apples into a single basket and freeing up the other four. I didn’t even bother turning around to see if she left. It might have been a bit jerkish of me to suddenly give her the cold shoulder… but then I realized that she was a Valkyrian, she could handle it.
⁂
After many more hours of working and a few trips back and forth to deposit the apples we collected later, my boss decided to call it a day and head back for some early supper. I felt a sense of accomplishment at being able to clear the acre assigned to me on my first day. Applejack seemed pleased too, although she gave me this real narrowed eyed stare when I told her that I didn’t use my magic to touch as single one of the apples like she said I couldn’t. I knew she suspected that I used magic to make my job easier, but had no way to really prove it. I really did do exactly as she asked so hurrah for word shrewdness!
After squaring away the last batch of apples in their depository, (which also served as their distillery) we returned to the farmhouse for a well-deserved meal prepared by the very friendly Granny Smith. Although it was kind of that nearly senile kind of friendliness that made you feel guilty enough to yield when she insisted that you call her Granny even though we weren’t blood relatives by any measure. Applebloom (who was also a tween) was out with her friends exhausting their lists for finding their Mana marks and chattered excitedly when she found out that I was staying for the week and helping with the workload. She simmered down when her older brother felt that she was getting out of hand and wordlessly placed a large hand on her shoulder to let her know as much.
Applejack meanwhile spent the entire meal (which wasn’t all apple themed as I had initially feared) inquiring into my sense of value and family instilled morals with cleverly disguised questions. I quickly found out that the Apple family (even the normally silent Macintosh, who nodded his concurrence) had a rather indiscreet way of imposing their brand of ethics and ostracizing others that disagreed even if they didn’t outright realize that they were doing as such. I diplomatically steered the dinner talk towards subjects that didn’t concern yours truly until we finished our meals.
After that it was off to the guest room shower to wash up and prepare to get a good night’s rest in anticipation of the next day of grueling labor. Twilight had the presence of mind to bring over my things (I had a hunch that she had rifled through them and did a poor job of putting things back to the way I left them) so I didn’t have to worry about asking Big Mac if I could borrow some of his clothes, though I doubted that his large build would have suited my decidedly slimmer one anyways. The guest room that they provided for me was nice though, granted it had way too many apple emblems pasted every other square foot, but none the less it was quite snug. I slipped into some fashionable pajamas that were given to me courtesy of the castle royal tailor and dived under the covers of the springy single sized bed. My last thoughts being about how excited I was to be potentially dungeon diving in the future.
I awoke before the crack of dawn to get an early start on my second day at the farm. Normally, I was adept enough at being roused by my own circadian rhythm, so as a result I was not prepared for the sudden noise of an old key wound alarm clock ringing away and assaulting my ears drums like a hyperactive percussionist on speed. The excruciating noise made me roll my pillow over my head as I tried to silence it by slamming my hand on the nightstand next to the bed. I may have put a little too much force into it because the next sound I heard was the loud metallic crunching of busted gears and cogs as the incessant ringing finally died with a last pathetic whimper. I chuckled victoriously before settling in for five more minutes of sleep.
Then the realization of what I did finally caught up to me and my eyes snapped open, I sprung out of bed and scrambled to my feet to observe the results of my careless action. The alarm clock lay flattened into a pathetic crumpled heap of broken metal and shattered glass atop the simple wooden nightstand. As I brought my hands to the side of my head in stunned horror, a spring chose that moment to burst out of a fracture in the frame with a small ‘doinging’ sound and roll onto the floor. I would have found it comical had I not been currently having a miniature panic attack over the very much broken device.
‘Crap! What if that was a precious family heirloom or something? Sometimes my ridiculously augmented strength can be more of a burden than a blessing’
“The broken clock is a comfort my ass” I muttered to myself as I collected all of the loose parts, Lifehouse lied to me!
I almost jumped out of my skin when I heard a series of knocks on my door, Applejack’s voice piped in with a minutely concerned tone.
“Are ya alright in there Zenith? I thought ah heard a ruckus comin’ from in there”
“Just fine Applejack!” I hollered back, erasing all hints of worry in my voice and concurrently working on a plan to fix this little mess I had inadvertently created for myself.
“If you say so, breakfast’s in ten so get yer keister downstairs before then ok?” She didn’t sound suspicious so that was a good sign.
“Sure thing boss!” I cheerily replied (or about as cheery as a monotonous person like me comes close to).
The shadow that she casted beneath the door that was illuminated by the Sun’s first rays lingered for a few seconds longer before slowly shifting away back to whence it came. I allowed myself a half relieved, half disgruntled sigh and shook my head, this was going to be another one those days it seemed…
An idea emerged from the foggy darkness of my still groggy mind and shone with sparkling brilliance. Using the (rather generous) weekly stipend of five hundred bits provided courtesy of the Royal Sisters, I could simply go into town and find a clockmaker’s shop to get it repaired in secret, or failing that, get an identical replacement (from what I could tell it was an ordinary wind up clock). I might even tip extra munificently if they had the good grace to keep it under wraps. I could then bring it back with no one the wiser and avoid a potentially awkward conversation over how I managed to trash one of the Apple family’s timepieces.
I fully registered that this little scheme of mine was a far cry from being honest, but I was adamant about keeping my standing as a Trifect strictly between the element bearers and myself. Applejack might understand, but she might have me fess up to the rest of her family and I wouldn’t risk it. I speedily scrounged through the many drawers in the room in search of something to bag the metallic debris with, finding it in the form of a small burlap sack that smelled faintly of old coffee beans.
After I finished collecting and storing all of the evidence that linked me to the crime, I began brooding over why the hell anybody would just set an alarm clock next to my bed and fail to inform me about it. I mean… I doubt it would have done much to change the outcome, but it would have been nice to know. Perhaps I was being unfair, while I bet that the Apples are accustomed to being early risers, they might often have people who stay over who are the opposite. I did still feel a little miffed that they just assumed the latter of me and didn’t even bother asking for my opinion on it before planting a primed timepiece right next to my head. I huffed in irritation and put away the sack before I made for the bathroom to get my mind on other things, I was most grateful that the Apple family home wasn’t one of those places where people had to contest each other in order to get first dibs on the washroom. I gargled some apple flavored mouthwash (what else would you expect to find in their cabinets?) before taking care of my other hygiene oriented necessities.
I emerged from the restroom feeling fresh as a daisy in the spring before changing into some jeans and donning another one of my favored non-sequitur shirts before exiting out the door. As per usual, I had efficiently finished up my wake up regimen with not a moment to spare as I strode down the hallway and towards the stairs. As I did so I noticed that each of the doorways were creaked open but not opened all the way, out of the corners of my eyes I spotted each member of the Apple siblings in various stages of their own morning routine while I passed on by. Applejack was midway between trading her apple themed pajamas for her usual cow girl attire (I turned away hastily, dang did she cut a nice figure), Apple bloom was sluggishly brushing her teeth based on the reflection in her bathroom mirror, and the currently shirtless Macintosh (man was that guy ripped) looked deep in thought over whether to choose the checkered shirt with black and red coloration or an equally reddish tank top.
I idly wondered why they wouldn’t shut their own doors to give themselves a little privacy from prying eyes when the answer slowly became clear to me; they were a close knit family, meaning that they had nothing to hide from each other in any way, shape, or form. Being unaccustomed to seeing such things, I was understandably befuddled by this, although being a naturally more reserved person made that an inevitability anyway.
I quietly crept down the stairway in search of the kitchen; already I could hear the sounds of cooking occurring and the crisp smell of toast drifting along the air. The sudden stimulation of my olfactory senses caused my stomach to churn and grumble in protest for having been denied food for nearly half a day. My ever sarcastic inner voice did a quick analysis of the situation before getting back to me with the results.
‘I have made my diagnosis! You sir have rumblies in your tumblies, I recommend remedying that with a hearty dosage of good ol’ country style breakfast’
As much as I wanted to roll my eyes at my own antics, I had to agree with the suggestion. Entering the kitchen I spied an unusually awake and frisky Granny Smith managing between a diversity of fried vittles on the stove, toast inside an ordinary appearing toaster (that was even plugged into the wall!), and an arrangement of drink glasses waiting to be filled with both orange juice, dairy, and strangely enough, tea. Despite her age, old Annabelle was remarkably spry for someone so wrinkly looking. Now don’t get me wrong; I have nothing but tons of respect for the elderly, but I’ve come to almost always expect them to be senile in all aspects of their slowing waning lives. To see Granny Smith up and about so early and fixing her grandchildren (and me) breakfast without so much as a hiccup was both unexpected and profoundly heartwarming at the same time.
Just watching the grand matron of the house painstakingly prepare food for her family brought back some bygone memories of when I was a younger lad and my maternal grandmother made for me the most scrumptious and delicious tasting breakfast every time I paid her a visit (reasonably sure the secret ingredient she used was love). If I were a more emotionally affected person, I’m sure a nostalgic tear would have made its way down my cheek. The closest that I have ever been to shedding sentimental tears was watching the ending of Toy Story three, and that only managed to make my eyes slightly misty (while the guy sitting near to me was bawling loudly, it made for quite the contrast).
I decided to ease my way into her vision so I wouldn’t startle her or be mistakenly identified as a stranger that needed a frying pan applied to the face, I couldn’t have been too careful after all right? Turns out Granny still retained an acute awareness of her surroundings, evidenced by her addressing me without batting an eye.
“There’s no need to be walkin’ on eggshells around me youngin’. I ain’t doddery yet” Her voice wasn’t as a hoary as I’d remembered her equine counterpart’s to be, something that mystified me greatly. Instead there was a fully cognizant wisdom underlying them that made her seem more grizzled than kooky.
I snapped to a full upright posture at being discovered, “My apologies, it’s just that I like to tread lightly around someone wielding something with a flat and heated surface” I was referring to the small pan she was using to prepare some eggs, sunny side up from the looks of it.
“You ‘Fraid I might conk you on the noggin with it?” She let out a chuckle, “If I were to do that, ah’d use the cast iron skillet, and only if you were hankerin’ for it” That didn’t make me feel any better.
She briefly gestured to the table, “Please, make yerself comfy. Ah’m almost finished here”
“I could help if you wanted?” I politely offered; it was almost instinctual of me to render aid whenever I could at this point in my life.
“Nah, if any more of you start takin’ up all of the responsibilities round here, ah’d be officially put out to pasture wouldn’t I?” She asked with a brow raised in my direction.
‘Well, at least I offered’ I shrugged and randomly picked a spot at the large oaken table covered with a somewhat jejune plaid tablecloth, I did not sit at either end since I was guessing that it was still a tradition here for the matriarch and the man of the household to occupy those positions.
So alternatively, I got comfy on the side of the table that was facing a wall that was positively decorated with old family photos, many of which depicting a much younger Applejack and Big Macintosh (although he was quite scrawny back then) during various highlights of their young lives. One had an ecstatic looking Applejack showcasing her characteristic Mana mark to the person holding the camera with a smiling Granny Smith and Mac sharing in her joy in the background. I abruptly realized that the person holding the camera had to have been one of Applejack’s parents, for the subsequent photographs were missing Granny Smith; and both Applejack and Macintosh had more subdued expressions on them. Like they were still trying their best to be happy, but something important was now absent from their lives. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was likely the beginning of Mac’s stoicism.
“Based on that funny look on yer face, ah can see that you pieced it together for yerself” Granny Smith astutely observed, serving me a plate filled to the brim with tasty chow before setting the rest of the table. She then sat across from me, contrary to what I had first expected of seating etiquette.
“I’m…so sorry for your loss” I glanced back down to the table, not wanting to provoke any more painful memories for the elderly woman.
“Don’t be, the time for grieving is long since passed. Besides, they’re in a better place, watching over us as we speak even now” She glanced up at the ceiling, a wistful smile gracing her aged features.
‘Well that confirms that this family strongly believes in the hereafter’ I mused, fully knowing how the death of a loved one can make you ponder these things in great depth.
“Does Apple bloom know what happened to her parents? From what I can gather, she was still an infant when they passed away” From the looks of things, it may have even been the year that she was born.
She shook her head ruefully, “She hasn’t been told nor has she ever asked, though ah suspect she has a pretty good idear why they ain’t around no more”
Deciding that it was better to change topics to something less cheerless, I chose to compliment her good cooking after taking a satisfying bite…or maybe several, I couldn’t really control myself after the first sampling. I wasn’t instantly berated for impulsively stuffing my maw before everyone else arrived to the table so that was a plus.
“Wow, I think that might just be the second most invigorating breakfast I’ve ever had. You’re an amazing cook Mrs. Smith”
“None of that formal nonsense ‘round here young whippersnapper, ah told ya to call me granny like everybody else does” She chided with a wag of her hand.
“You must forgive me once more, I am unused to referring to someone I only met yesterday by the title of grandmother” I excused, not wanting to come off as rude but not readily accepting her by family honorific either.
“Well, I suppose I can come off a bit too strong sometimes. Jus’ so used to bein’ recognized as everyone’s granny that I musta’ gotten inclined to it”
She leaned closer to me and spoke in a conspiratorial tone, “Tell ya what, how ‘bout we compromise then, I’ll let ya call me Mrs. Smith around others but in private you can just refer to me as Annabelle hmm?”
“That sounds most agreeable…Annabelle” She cracked a wry grin at my acquiescence.
I polished off the rest of my plate in short order and was thoroughly gratified that Annabelle had the presence of mind to cook with second servings taken into consideration. By now the other members of the Apple family had arrived and taken their seats in anticipation for some wholesome nourishment. Big Macintosh and Applejack took the ends while a hyperactive Apple bloom sat next to me (much to my consternation) and flooded me with an impressive deluge of random questions. Only this time Big Mac had no intention of rescuing me; as occupied as he was with shoveling down his allotment of grub and being his usual quiet self. Applejack and Granny Smith sat idly by and smirked at what they found as an amusing display. I did my best to resist putting my head in my hands and groaning in exasperation as the little girl with a red bowtie in her hair continued to pester me.
“…What’s the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?...” She gasped as though she had the epiphany of a lifetime, “Hey mister! Mister! Can ah see yer Mana mark?”
‘Oh boy, there’s a question I’ve been dreading’
“I’m not so sure that you’ll like what you see” I sedately replied, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.
“Ah promise I won’t make fun a’ ya! C’mon show us!” Apple bloom pressured me, rattling the chair she was on with her movements.
I sighed in begrudging acceptance, “Very well, but try not to overreact ok?” She nodded furiously, a hopeful curl bending the edges of her lips upward.
Seeing that there was no skirting around the question since everyone at the table now had their eyes on me in uniform curiosity, I decided to bite the bullet and lift up my right shirt sleeve and show them that it was as bare as the day I was born. Predictably, this received muted gasps from both Mrs. Smith and Applejack; a raised brow from Macintosh, and Apple bloom… just stared at it, her face not betraying her inner thoughts in the slightest. When she did finally react however, her eyes rolled back into her head and she face planted on the table… right into her unfinished breakfast, causing parts of her hair to become matted with grease and chunks of leftover food.
“I’m pretty sure that qualifies as an overreaction” I dryly remarked, already regretting not deflecting the inquiry or just simply lying until my tongue turned black.
“Apple bloom!” Applejack jumped out of her chair and circled the table to attend to her woozy sister who was just coming to.
“Oh… Applejack, I just had the most horrific daydream. I asked that Zenith fella to show me his Mana mark an’ his shoulders were blank!”
I leaned over and whispered into her ear, “That was no dream. And didn’t you agree not to overreact?” She yelped in surprise and drew back from me, shakily pointing at my exposed shoulder like it was a sign of the end times.
“He’s missin’ a Mana mark! How’s that even possible?” She looked up at her visibly concerned sister, “Didn’t ya tell me that everyone eventually discovers theirs by the time they’re his age?” Applejack was too stunned herself to answer.
She began to grow more hysterical the longer she thought about it, “What if ah never discover mine!? What if ah’m doomed to be a bland hand and talentless like him forever!?”
“Apple bloom! That’s no way to treat our guest, you were raised better than that!” Granny Smith chided her for the insensitive outburst; I intervened before the situation could become any more inane.
“Relax Apple bloom. Trust me, not having a Mana mark even at my age is unique to me and me alone ('Or I think it is, can’t be too certain'). You can count on finding yours some time in the future” She hesitantly seemed to calm down, at the very least she wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. She looked back at me, this time there was some sadness reflected in her eyes.
“But what about you? Don’t it bother ya how you might never find out what yer destiny is?”
I scoffed, “A mark designating one’s special talent is one thing, but your destiny is another thing entirely” I pulled my sleeve down and leaned back into my chair before crossing my arms, “Besides, I like it better this way”
The blank look on little Apple bloom’s face was just precious, like the idea of someone not wanting to have some glorified tattoo reminding them what their calling (and by extension their lot in life as well) was permanently engraved on their skin simply did not compute. If comedic effect was actively in effect, I’m pretty sure there would be smoke and fizzling sparks erupting out of her ears right now. Entertaining as this all was, it did raise some very important questions over just how relevant the concept of determinism and free will was here. Presumably every Arcanian in the land would one day happen upon and fully realize what their special talent was, and I’m assuming that they would also have no second thoughts about it either. So that meant that these Mana marks coincided with a person’s passions entirely, an errant thought regarding a certain dressmaker who I had yet to visit popped into my head and provided me with the material I needed to make my point across to the currently malfunctioning Applebot.
“Think about it this way, Mrs. Rarity’s Mana mark depicts a trio of diamonds yes?” She nodded, showing that she was paying attention, “So I presume that she has some special ability that has something to do with gemstones yeah?”
“Eeyup, she’s got some fancy smancy spell that allows her to track down gems” Applejack confirmed for me.
“But do you see her mining shiny rocks for a living?” Apple bloom slowly shook her head, my point gradually worming its way into her brain.
“Exactly, she’s a fashionista! A woman who dedicates her ideas and inspiration into designing haute couture for the masses. And if the dressy snobs back in Concordia are anything to go by, she’s quite successful with crafting things that, ‘if you’ll pardon the expression’ rich people buy up like its going out of style. She’s living proof that while your Mana mark is a satisfying thing to have, it does not dictate your chosen path in life.
No…Apple bloom, that is entirely up to you” A quote by a poet back home rung in my mind: ‘Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself’ and it felt even more pertinent here.
My discourse seemed to have had a sobering effect on the young girl, who looked deep in thought over what I had elaborated for her. She then tilted her head to the side and commented in confusion.
“Ah still don’t understand”
‘Or maybe it didn’t’ I mentally face palmed.
I dismissed the topic with a wave of my hand, “Like I said, you’ll find out for yourself given time” I turned my attention to her big sister, “What’s the agenda for today boss? We working the fields again?” I asked.
“Stop callin’ me boss, ya ain’t been formally hired remember? And not today, Saturday is a market day. So you’ll be helpin’ me sell some of our produce instead…and stuff”
Her eyes darted from side to side near the end, alerting me to an ulterior motive, one I already had a faint suspicion of. This was good though, it meant that I didn’t have to make up a reason of my own to go into town and get the broken clock squared away with. We spent the remainder of breakfast eating in silence, Apple bloom occasionally sneaking glances in my direction; no doubt still trying to process what I had told her and doing her darnedest to make heads or tails of it. The other members of the table were also sparingly shooting spying looks at me and I could see the cloudy unasked questions formulate behind their eyes; just who was I to be such a strange deviation from what they believed to be a normal Arcanian? The short answer was that I wasn’t, but I wasn’t quite ready to tell them that yet.
After breakfast was over and everyone had their fill, we cleaned up and Applejack instructed for me to meet her outside while she retrieved Clyde and Dale and hooked them up to the wagon that we’d be using to haul our cargo to market with. I used the lull to run upstairs and grab the bag with the shattered clock fragments and some of my other belongings before returning to the front porch and proceeding to whistle Dixie while I waited. Soon enough, Applejack pulled up with a wagon loaded to the brim with an assortment of apple bushels, plump looking pumpkins, fresh ears of corn and other prize crops harvested right from the fertile soils of the fields. I climbed aboard and got comfy while Applejack drove us forward with a whip of the reins, the strong steeds letting out a soft nicker of air prior to complying. I was content to just ride it out to Magiville in complete quietude, but Applejack felt it necessary to fill the air with her thoughts.
“So ya feel completely fine without yer Mana mark huh?”
“I do” I brusquely replied, feeling vaguely annoyed with where she was going with this.
“Can’t say I ever met somebody who would, what are ya? Too good to be like all the other folks?” She poked at me with a flat tone and wry expression.
“Nah, I’m just being me… the spirit of non conformity” I drolly declared, looking her in the eye with casual indifference.
She snorted and pulled at the peak of her hat, “Whatever ya say… so when are you gonna apologize ta’ poor Golden Harvest?” She unexpectedly asked.
“Sometime this week, I’m still mulling over how to approach the whole thing”
“What’s so complicated? Jus’ go up to her, explain what happened, an’ pray that she’ll find it in her heart to forgive you. Heck, her place ain’t even a stone’s throw away from our farm” She explained, her up front and honest personal standpoint being especially prominent.
I shot her an incredulous look, “That might be well and good for you Applejack, but I’m not exactly a person who’s direct all the time, sometimes I have to handle a delicate situation with careful discretion and planning”
She looked at me with a stern expression, “Listen here pardner, I don’t how it is wherever you came from, but round here people hold themselves to a modes’ modicum of honesty. What yer tellin’ me sounds a hair’s breadth away from chicanery, somethin’ I don’t particularly care for”
I heaved a sigh, a part of me knowing that this conversation was unavoidable, “Applejack, I grew up in an environment where it’s considered honorable to be truthful, but not to be so liberal with it. I can think of multiple different situations where blunt honesty is more likely to further deteriorate a situation than fix it. I’m working on a game plan to be both honest with Golden Harvest about what happened that night, while also showing her that I’m sincerely going to make it up to her, but I can’t just flat out tell her that it was me that scared the bejeezus of out her without cushioning the blow a little first”
That and I didn’t want to have to explain to her just who I was, but Applejack didn’t need to know that, nor did she need to know that I had an extremely questionable memory altering spell prepared if this went to hell in a hand basket. Strangely enough, I picked it up while reading one of Twilight’s books in her tower (presumably the same one that taught her the ‘want it, need it’ mind altering charm). The title was ‘Free won’t: A study into the effects of thaumaturgy on the mind’ why Celestia would even allow Twilight to have that book was beyond me, the spells contained inside came very close to violating the right to free will…but only just, it was mostly just spells with intense powers of suggestion and the planting of ideas that seemed like they were the original thoughts of the person.
Additionally, by reading this risqué material, I learned how to best counter such spells if they were ever used on me. I was already mostly covered anyway, my natural tendency to follow my own way instead of going with the flow along with my airtight stubbornness meant most mind altering spells would simply bounce off my thick skull. Those spells powerful enough to get through would become mired in a multilayered defense consisting of my refined sense of self-identification, natural magic resistance afforded to me by my new physiology, and any counter spells that I’ve soaked up in my endless quest to become all powerful (well…maybe not the last part so much, I had already put myself on Stu alert to be safe). I shook my head; I was getting off track here. Applejack didn’t look all that happy that I was going against her wishes, but she wasn’t the one who had to confess to accidentally traumatizing a girl either.
“I promise you Applejack, I don’t intend to skip out on putting things right with Carrot top. I will keep my word, believe me” She searched my eyes for any hint of deceit before returning to steering us down the dirt road towards town.
She looked like she wanted to say something else, but thankfully kept to herself for the rest of the ride. It was a lovely day though, the birds were flying overhead, the sun was shining down radiantly as always, and the air had a crispness to it that made one feel alive and inspired. In the distance, I spotted multiple Valkyrians flitting about and moving fluffy white clouds in pattern like positions all over Magiville. This raised a few questions regarding how they scheduled the weather forecasts to coincide with growing and harvesting seasons or why they would even bother scheduling something like winter in the first place, but I saved them until my company was decidedly more Skyborn in origin.
Before long we were rolling into the peaceful town, those who were milling about the fringes of Magiville paused whatever it was they were doing at the time to take a gander at our healthy and organic cargo. It may have been my overactive imagination, but if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, more than a few of them licked their lips at the sight of those sweet and juicy apples grown specialty of their local Sweet Apple Acres. Of course, more than a few of the ladies were also staring at me and chattering amongst themselves; giggling as they did so. I was tempted to cloak myself out of sheer discomfiture alone, I couldn’t understand what was going through their heads and I doubt I ever would. The feminine thought process was a mystery not worth the effort of solving in my opinion, but what do I know? I certainly didn’t miss the amused smirk on Applejack’s face to my unease, I clenched my teeth and did my best to ignore that feeling of malaise that settled in my gut every time I felt that people were observing me.
The Magiville market was hosted right next to the town hall, where there was a decent amount of open space to peddle a panoply of wares ranging from edible produce to even metal tools and other merchandise. There was a fair mix of local growers setting up temporary stands to advertise their stock to the general populace and more permanent tents that were themed to give people an idea of what commodities they offered. I had a pretty good hunch that the tent shaped like a jester’s cap was the prank store where Rainbow Dash and Pinkie bought most of their gag paraphernalia. There was another building shaped like the small and large humps of a camel that had a unique styling to its thatched roof which made it look like a head of hair, I could only theorize that it was the local barbers slash salon and filed it’s location away for future reference.
Since we were among the first one’s to arrive, we got first choice in real estate for our stall. Applejack picked a good spot that was close to one of the roads leading in and out of town center, so those coming to and fro would undoubtedly see us and perhaps pay a visit before paying for some delicious apples. We quickly erected the simple wooden apple themed stand and sat back to watch all of the other vendors set up shop. As if fate itself were mocking me, the next marketer to arrive was Golden Harvest, looking decidedly dour on a small single seat cart being pulled by a palomino horse. I felt an elbow roughly nudge me in the ribs and I twisted to see Applejack nod pointedly in her direction.
“This is not the time to act Applejack, now is the time to focus on the job at hand” I calmly asserted as I sidestepped the issue.
‘While I use this convenient opportunity to survey and make notations’ I secretly schemed, while I mentally steepled my hands and chuckled fiendishly.
Golden Harvest arbitrarily occupied a portion of land within easy viewing distance from ours. She listlessly slid off of her cart and began slowly assembling her own stand, moving with all the energy of a sapped sloth. The sight was so heart wrenchingly pathetic that I decided to lend a hand, and maybe get the lowdown on her condition as well. Applejack and I had already finished with our own stand and she was pressuring me to do something anyway so I had no difficulty convincing her to hold down the fort while I saw to Carrot top. This also served to show Applejack that I meant what I had said about apologizing to the orange haired woman.
I decided to go with a neutral approach; walking closer I addressed her, “Need a hand?”
She looked up at me with dulled eyes before a spark of resentment flashed in them, “If this about offering your sympathy to the latest patsy damsel, then I don’t want it” She spat with some bitter vitriol.
I carried on undeterred by her sudden harshness, “I’m not offering you my empathy, I’m offering my help… if you’re interested” I spoke in an impartial tone, making it seem like I didn’t really care either way.
She gave me a cursory glance filled with irritation before huffing and blowing a stray lock of hair out of her face, “Whatever, just don’t get in the way”
‘Did I damage this girl more than I thought or was she always this bitchy?’ I pondered with mild bemusement, Goldy didn’t like being pitied I guess.
I shrugged to myself and began assisting her in connecting the prefabricated materials, hooking them together using an odd combination of clasps and an adhesive mixture that solidified quickly, but could be easily removed with a toss of water. The whole time we were doing this, Carrot top pretended to act like I wasn’t even there. But on the plus side she was no longer acting like a sad sally that had watched her pet kitten get kicked in the face repeatedly. Eventually, we had completed our construction and Golden Harvest’s ‘Carrots and things’ vending stand was up and running. From what I could tell, her prices were quite affordable too, with a five pound bag of carrots costing about seven bits. Unlike Applejack however, Golden Harvest only brought one item to sell instead of a myriad of vegetables and or fruits to appeal to all interests. My task done with, I brushed my hands together and spun in place to return to selling apples with my not boss.
“Where are you going?” Goldy’s voice asked in confusion, making me stop in my tracks.
“Back to Applejack’s stand?” I answered earnestly, wondering why she even cared if I left.
“Huh…I was under the impression that you were going to stick around and flirt with me or something” She remarked with some subverted opprobrium evident in her tone.
I was extremely tempted to snark and knock her down a notch, but bit down the disparaging criticism before I could dig myself in any deeper, “Then you were mistaken, I was just being neighborly is all, enjoy the rest of your day” I promptly vacated the premises before she could another word in.
Applejack was near the end of negotiating a sale with the first customer of the day; one of the few males in town too, he had brown slicked back hair and was wearing what looked like a blue business vest with a white collar and corduroy slacks. A nagging sensation in the back of my mind told me that this guy was familiar but I couldn’t quite recall in what manner. Applejack acknowledged me with a small dip of her head while handing over a bag full of produce to her first sale of the day; they were also in the middle of a chat that raised my interest.
“…a new innovation which I hear is becoming quite the rage in the big city, although I’m fairly certain it’s just another one of Concordia’s typical fads that’ll die out in a few weeks. Folk’s had and will always have a need for quills and sofas” The man monologued to my not boss, who was expertly feigning fascinated intrigue.
“And just what ‘fad’ would that happen to be?” I asked, causing the man to turn and regard me for the first time.
“Oh, hello there! I was just conversing with Applejack here about some newfangled invention that’s sweeping the capital like wildfire! They call it a fountain pen, supposed to be some kinda doohickey that marries a quill and ink well together… can you imagine that? Absurd!”
I couldn’t help but develop a grin upon hearing that, “Really? Sounds like something handy to have. Perhaps you should consider investing in this particular fad?”
He looked at me as if I had lost my mind, “That would be like betting against myself good man! I couldn’t in good conscious do that now could I?”
I answered his question with one of my own, “You must be a businessman correct?” He nodded, “Which means that you have the means to acquire goods and have them shipped here to be sold yes?”
“Aye, I’ve a few friends in the business world that provide me with what I need”
“So how about this, I’ll supply the investment, and all you have to do is acquire these ‘newfangled’ fountain pens and start selling them here in Magiville”
“And just what kind of revenue share are we talking about here?” His tone became more formal, with a lacing of politeness thrown in for good measure.
“Eighty Twenty split. Your eighty, my twenty… with a one hundred bit investment from me”
“That’s a hefty investment friend!” I did my best not to wince at his liberal application of the F word, “And over something so trivial as this, I’ll do you a fifty fifty share since you seem to believe in this new contrivance so adamantly”
He chuckled to himself, “You remind me of myself when I was a start up entrepreneur, I put my eggs in practically every basket the moment it was weaved! But I mellowed out once I discovered that my calling was providing good folks with writing utensils and luxury lounging upholstery”
“But where are my manners! I haven’t formally introduced myself” He held out his hand, which I firmly shook, “The name’s Davenport, what’s yours my new business partner?”
“Call me Zenith, and I’m just making a minor investment for curiosity’s sake, I don’t think that qualifies me for a partnership”
“Nonsense! I admire anyone with the drive to ‘get with the times’ as it were, you’ll be treated as my equal in this endeavor and no less I say!” He jovially spouted, his toothy smile stretching from ear to ear.
‘I’m starting to wonder if these people take happy pills or something, because they should not be this chummy! Although I suppose Goldy was a relieving aberration to the rule’
“If you insist, then who am I to argue?”
He gave me an appraising look, “So you’re the latest newcomer to Magiville eh? They said nothing about your impressive stature nor the composed way you carry yourself! How have you found your welcome here so far?”
“Agreeable, the adjustment from the city to the countryside has been relatively easy for me” Normally the pleasantries came first before the dealing, but social etiquette could be different here so I just rolled with it.
He winked at me, “Trust me, its going to get even better”
In the peripherals of my vision I saw Applejack shaking her head vigorously and making slashing motions across her neck with both hands, wholly confirming that I was in for something ‘unexpected’ today. I decided to play dumb just for the whimsical theatricality of it.
I let out a thoughtful hum, “I’ll take your word for it”
I reached into my munny bag and pulled out the bits required for the transaction and forked them over to the oddly ebullient businessman, I was mostly certain he could be trusted, and even if it didn’t work out it was only a hundred bits anyway.
‘Only a hundred bits!? Think of how much snack food that could get us!’ My gluttonous side whined unbidden. I mentally face palmed, I could be such a porker sometimes.
“Well then, I suppose I should get back to the daily grind” Davenport turned to leave, “Tell your dear Granny I said hello won’t you Applejack?” She responded in the affirmative and we watched the man slowly blend into the rapidly growing crowd.
The blonde cowgirl looked at me, “What in tarnation was all that about investin’ a hundred bits in some overblown hoo-ha from the capital? Don’cha know they come and go near as quick as our special cider once Rainbow hears of it?”
“I have a feeling that won’t be the case with this particular novelty… and are people around here really that crazy for your special batch of spiced cider?”
“Darn tootin! Along with the Zapple jam, that cider rakes in the bits like nobody’s business. Though I think RD craves it the most out of all of em, you shoulda seen the look on her face when I gave her a reserve barrel last Hearth’s Warming day, it was like she made flight leader on the Wonderbolts or somethin’” She proudly proclaimed with a chuckle, looking lost in thought at the memories.
The massive influx of potential customers heading our way cut her reverie short and soon we were flooded with consumers looking to replenish their stores of homegrown fruits and veggies. Most of them casually shooting the breeze with Applejack while they made and paid for their orders, many of them were also looking upon me with thinly veiled interest, their eyes flicking back and forth between the farm girl and the diligent (not to mention devilishly handsome) farm hand in the back sorting out which produce bags went with which customer without skipping a beat. On a somewhat related note, I managed to discern Carrot top staring in the direction of our stall more than a few times with a puzzled expression. I had flummoxed her good, which immediately brought about a random tangential thought that she would make for a good veterinarian. A couple hours of this redundant but simple procedure of bagging and tagging and we had netted ourselves a large profit by midday. Applejack whistled long and loudly once she had finished counting up the pile of bits we had accumulated.
“Whoo wee! We made quite a fine haul so far!” She drawled as she let the coins stack together with audible clinking noises.
“You make it seem like we’ve exceeded our quota or something” I lazily commented as I leaned against one of the wooden posts.
She looked at me with disbelief, “You kiddin’? This ranks as one of the more profitable days I’ve seen in a long while”
“Can’t imagine why” I droned, getting a strong impression that I had acted as some kind of advertising billboard for the many many bachelorettes in town. Though to be fair, we did get a middling number of male buyers as well.
‘Hopefully not for the same reasons’ I grimaced with some mild distaste at the unsavory thought. On the plus side though, it was mildly flattering to capture the interest of so many attractive women, most of them on average would be considered solid sevens to eights back home. It was almost like the magic in the air had the added benefit of beautifying people exposed to it, or at least making them appear... right for lack of a better word.
“Heck, I reckon ah wouldn’t have been able to handle as many customers all by my lonesome. Why not have a share fer all yer hard work?” She grabbed a handful out of the pile and offered it to me.
I held out both of my palms in a stopping motion, “I couldn’t possibly accept, I’ve told you that I’m more than happy to be making myself useful and I meant it Applejack. Keep your farm’s finances nice and fat okay? I’m not exactly hurting for cash these days” I deadpanned at the end, the reassuring weight of the munny bag at my side saw to that.
She shrugged noncommittally, “Suit yerself, awfully generous of ya though”
“Yeah, I’m such a giver” I said with oodles of sarcasm.
She furrowed her brow in thought, “I say you at least earned the right to wear the hat for the rest of the day” She then took the said article of clothing off, her golden hair catching the light of the sun and reflecting it with a slight sheen. Before I could politely refuse it, she capped me on the head. Despite having a larger cranium, the bands in the well-worn hat stretched themselves to accommodate me.
‘It smells faintly of sweat and apples… oddly intoxicating’ I noted.
“Ugh… thanks?” I slowly spoke, blindsided by the sudden and unexpected action.
“Anytime sugarcube. Besides, it looks good on you” She told me, admiring her results.
I personally didn’t think that western wear looked all that fitting on me, but I withheld that opinion and let her have her fun. It was then that she noticed that the wagon was nearly depleted.
“Well… ah’ll be, guess I’m gonna hafta close up shop for a spell while I run back and grab some more supply to feed the demand” She reached under the stand and produced a wooden sign that read ‘We’ll be ripe back in no time!’ and placed it on the counter before mounting the wagon and taking the reins in her hands.
“Feel free to take a well deserved break, I’ll probably return within an hour or so” And with that she snapped the reins and left in the direction of her farm, parting the people like the red sea as she went.
“Well that’s convenient” I muttered to myself, wishing that I had a cheesy looking apron that I could tear off and toss to the side as I swaggered off to find the nearest clockmaker’s shop.
After about ten minutes of aimless wandering, I realized that I was completely incapable of finding it myself; the buildings were so similar in construction to one another that they were nearly indistinguishable from each other. The sardonic part of me made a snide comparison that one could liken it to their inhabitants overall, very much homogenous in disposition despite the overabundance of diverse physical coloration. So I had little choice but to swallow my manly pride and (I shuddered) ask for directions. I figured the nice trio of florists selling various bouquets of fragrant flowers was as good a place as any to start. The moment the closest one with light green hair saw me approaching her eyes widened with instantaneous fear and she pointed at me.
“Look at his eyes girls! They’re the color of blood! He must be a vampire!”
The other two’s necks swiveled about to face me and their reactions were identical, “He’s wearing Applejack’s hat! He must have gotten to her first!” The other girl frantically pointed out.
“And we’re next!” The one with rose colored hair shrieked, “Everybody run!” All three began running in panicked circles like chickens with their heads lopped off, yelling all the while.
I stood there with an expression that all but screamed ‘Are you freaking kidding me?’ as I watched the three town criers make utter fools out of themselves in front of anyone in the vicinity, before they huddled together and gazed at me with eyes full of unwarranted fear. Since they were going to be so histrionic about it, I felt it appropriate to act equally ridiculous. I crimped my hands and held them at chest level before speaking in an outrageous Transylvanian accent.
“Indeed my pretties! I haf come to this town in search of easy prey, and I haf vorked myself so hard that I’m feeling rather parched” I loomed over them, my long shadow engulfing them and making them quake with trepidation.
“I vant to suck your vlood! Mwa ha ha ha!” I throat was struck with a fit of scratchiness from overextending and I started coughing, I was no Bela Lugosi after all. I pounded a fist against my chest to recompose myself and I turned the coughing into strained laughter. Their looks of anxiety eventually melted into incomprehension as they traded confused glances with each other. Knowing that the time for nonsense was over I switched back to my normal voice.
“In all seriousness though, did you three forget to include coffee in your breakfast this morning? Because you failed to take into account a great deal of things” I held up some fingers, “First fact. The last I check, vampires aren’t supposed to be up and about during daylight hours without liberally applying sunscreen and some shades. Secondly, I saw my reflection in the mirror this morning (‘and damn am I a sexy beast!’) and everything retained a peachy complexion that looked nothing like pseudo necrotic flesh. Thirdly, I happen to love anything with garlic in it” I mentioned offhandedly.
I was feeling rather contrary at the end for their antics attracting a small circle of people around us who were watching, “And lastly” I wiggled a finger at all three of them, “None of you look nearly delectable enough for me to bite into by any context of the word” The crowd ‘ooh’d’ at the zinger and the three florists squawked indignantly.
“Hey!”
“That’s not very nice!”
“I am so delectable enough to bite into!” Grass hair shouted, both of her companions stared at her, “What? I am”
I folded my arms and held back an amused snort, “Well I was going to ask for directions and maybe buy some flowers, but I guess I’ll have to take my money elsewhere where they won’t judge me based off of my eye color alone” I motioned for the crowd to separate and let me pass when I heard one of them call back.
“Wait!”
I turned, doing my best to hide the triumphant smirk on my face.
“Yes miss…?” I purposely trailed off.
She flustered, obviously embarrassed by the way things went, “It’s Roseluck sir, and I wanted to apologize on behalf of myself and my colleagues. We’ve been known to…overreact a lot of the time, we can be a little skittish sometimes you see?” She giggled nervously as she looked anywhere but at me.
“You certainly neglected to make use of that gray matter hidden behind those pretty jade eyes of yours” She blushed furiously, whether at the compliment or the disguised jab at her intelligence I couldn’t tell.
“Yes… well, allow us to make it up to you. You said that you were going to ask for directions? Where to?”
“Just the local clock worker’s shop will do”
“You mean Time Turner’s? That’s just at the intersection of Pine Rise and Sunset Boulevard. There’s a sign hanging above the door with a golden grandfather clock on it, you can’t miss it!” She directed, speaking as though she had been there dozens of times.
I held a hand to my chest and bowed, “I am most grateful” I dug into my munny bag and fished out a tenner before flipping it to her, “Here’s a solid form of my thanks. Get yourself something nice Roseluck”
‘Let it never be said that I wasn’t a good tipper’ I introspected as I walked away. The crowd left murmuring to themselves and dispersing in the wake of my exit.
It only took me another ten minutes of meandering through town to finally come across the intersection that Roseluck told me about. The building that composed Time Turner’s ‘Chronotorium’ was fairly large, about three stories tall and given a bluish paint job for some reason. I humorously wondered if this ‘Time Turner’ had a Tardis disguise itself as a building. The windows were tinted so I wasn’t able to see much of the interior. Shrugging to myself, I opened the door and stepped inside. The first thing to grace my senses was the ticking of clocks… lots of clocks; they lined the walls and shelves like some kind of mechanical gallery of ticks and tocks.
What really got to me though was how in sync all of them were; every single timepiece matched the rhythm of the one next to it as if they were speaking in one voice. Shaking off the strangeness of the phenomenon, I advanced inside in search of the store’s shopkeeper. There was a desk with papers and mementos stacked on it surface located somewhere in the middle of the shop that had a bell ringer that I could use. Giving it a couple of good taps, I heard a voice with a clipped accent holler down from above me.
“Be patient, I’ll be down right quick!”
“Take your time, I’m on break” I leisurely replied, taking a good look at potential candidates to replace the clock I smashed in the meanwhile.
The telltale sounds of footsteps descending the stairs alerted me to Time Turner’s approach. I set down the item I had been examining and turned to face him, not at all surprised that he bore a striking resemblance to David Tennant. This man also seemed fond of wearing brown pinstripe suits along with a stylish tie.
He greeted me with a cheery smile, “Ello’ there! Welcome to my Chronotorium, what can I do you for?”
“Yes, I was wondering if you do repairs on damaged clocks?”
He nodded, “Indeed I do, let’s see it”
“Fair warning, it’s not a pretty sight” I unlashed the bag containing the fragments from my hip and dumped it on the desk, the man’s eyes widening instantly with shocked surprise.
“My word! You really did a number on this thing” He exclaimed, examining the mangled remains with something like appalled astonishment.
“I don’t know my own strength sometimes, is there anything you can do to fix it?” I tentatively asked, feeling slightly ashamed by what I had done.
“The cost it would take to put this back together exceeds the cost of simply purchasing a new one, this is a fairly standard model that isn’t terribly expensive that I also have plenty of in stock!” He gestured to a row of simulacrums that I failed to notice earlier.
I sighed in relief; this meant that is probably wasn’t something invaluable to the Apple family then.
“I suppose I’ll go with that then, how much?” I asked the simulacrum of a quirky time lord.
He rubbed his chin in contemplation, “Well, if you let me keep the remains to be salvaged for spare cogs and other parts… I’ll let you have another for…lets say twelve bits?”
“Deal” I gave him the three coins required and received a brand new replacement clock, Turner decided to strike up some small talk while we conducted business.
“I’ve not seen you around before, you new in town?” He asked as he looked me over.
“Yes I am, I arrived not two days ago from the capital”
“Ah, a Concordian! How’s the resplendent city these days?” His smile curled upward and showed off impeccably white teeth. His enthusiasm possibly marked him as an aficionado of the admittedly majestic city.
I shook my head, “I’m not a native (‘In more ways than one’) so I can’t exactly speak for its current state of affairs”
The mesmerizing shine of his teeth never faltered, “A shame, it’s been far too long since last I visited. What brings you to our humble slice of home?”
“I’m here because someone important whose wishes I respect, bid that I stay here and ‘learn to properly socialize’ myself from those who do” Ironic, considering how one of the element bearers is about as gregarious as I am.
“I see, you mentioned something about ‘being on break’ as it were?”
‘Man this guy is chatty’
“Just came from the market after a busy round of selling fruit” I explained to the somewhat nosy clock worker.
“Oh? May I ask what kind?” He politely pried, then he glowered, “As long as it isn’t pears, I absolutely despise the nasty little things, the way the texture chafes against the back of your throa…” He realized that he was getting off topic and chuckled sheepishly, probably because I was staring at him like he had just committed a felony.
“And just what do you have against pears? I myself enjoy a good Bartlett every now and again, and another thing…”
I trailed off and growled to myself, realizing that I had been baited into a pointless debate, “Never mind, to each their own I suppose” I crooked my head downwards in a proper bow, “Thank you for your services, have a nice day”
He stopped me before I could make for the door, “No no no! I fear that we had gotten off on the wrong foot, is there some way I could remedy that?”
I honestly just wanted to leave and enjoy the rest of my break, but decided to indulge in a curiosity that had been nagging at me ever since I stepped inside this strange shop.
“You could tell me how you managed to get all of these clocks to tick in quintessential coordination” I told him, casting a look at his synched up merchandise.
He grinned and tapped a finger against the metallic bulge in his breast pocket, “Normally I’d tell you that its my little secret, but in all truthfulness I spent hours putting together a complicated rig that activated each timepiece in my shop at exactly the moment their dials matched up with those of my personal pocket watch”
“Huh… neat” My unimpressed response finally seemed to put a dent in Turner’s lighthearted demeanor, who’s expression deflated noticeably.
“Just neat huh? Well, I suppose it’s not as dazzling since you haven’t seen it for yourself but ‘neat’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe it” He almost bristled in response.
“Sorry, I have a penchant for underreacting that makes me seem less amazed than I actually am (‘Some of the time anyways’). I’m sure that it was a crafty contraption that reflected the genius of its creator adequately” I did my best to project some sincerity into my voice, mostly succeeding.
He perked up somewhat at the explanation (excuse) and seemed placated enough for me to leave without there being any sort of bad blood between us, if that was even possible in this town. Seeing as he was no longer interested in idly chatting, I felt it best to finally exit the shop and return to the center of town.
“I’ll take my leave then” I tipped my temporary hat to him and turned heel.
Along the way back, I saw a good deal of people reading decorative cards and chatting excitedly to each other, although when some of them laid eyes of me, they instantly shied away. If I wasn’t convinced that Pinkie’s trademark surprise party for newcomers was today, I was now. Even if the signs weren’t there, I already had a passive spell in place that prevented anyone within a certain radius from getting the drop on me. It was actually a little more complicated than I made it sound, but simply put, it’s my magical substitute for spidey sense. I smirked to myself at the local’s efforts to keep it a secret, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned that these Arcanians are terrible at, its subtlety.
I waltzed back into the town square (don’t know why they called it that since it was more circular in shape) and in the direction of Applejack’s still vacant stall, I sighed with impatience, sometimes my need to be efficient results in too much downtime between tasks. The clinking of spare bits in my munny bag reminded me that I had a market full of diverse goods worth taking a look at, and at the very least the window shopping would pass the time until Applejack returned and we finished up with our duties for the day. I strolled through the market, my eyes scanning the emblem or advertised picture above the stalls and appraising their usefulness, I made sure to put adventuring gear at the top of the priority list since I intended to explore the Neverfree castle soon enough. My first stop was at a vendor offering lighting devices, I found myself holding up a flashlight and a small boxy lantern and mentally debating which would serve me more.
‘Lantern or flashlight? Flashlight has a direct and stronger beam, but a lantern illuminates the surrounding area in general. Hmm… choices choices’
The saleswoman, a cute little thing with amber colored locks of hair and a Mana mark depicting a light switch, saw my dilemma and offered me her ‘figurative’ two cents.
“You should probably go with the lantern, I have an apparatus that allows you to have your hands free while also sporting an attachment hook for lighting purposes” She reached under her stall and produced what looked like a heavily modified black leather backpack with silver buckles sealing its pouches.
I spoke in an inquisitive tone, “And did you happen to make this perchance?”
“Nope! My cousin gizmo gave it to me as a gag gift a couple months ago; I’ve been trying to sell it for a while now. But you look like you might have a use for it!” She eagerly pitched the item to me.
“Gizmo?”
“Uh huh! He has a stall of his own over there!” She pointed behind me to another stall in the background. I followed it until I saw this Gizmo, busy tinkering with something as he peddled his other wares.
“I see, how much do you want for it?” I asked her, her nose actually scrunching as she came up with a figure.
“Well, I have been wanting to get rid of it for a long time. How’s ten bits sound? I’ll even throw in the lantern for free!”
“Sounds like a fair price, miss…?”
“Flip Switch” She stuck out her hand, which I gently shook.
“Wonderful, thanks for your business miss Flip Switch” I tossed her another tenner and donned the backpack, there was long metal rod jutting out from a special compartment in the back that had a multifunctional grasper that I hooked the crystal bulbed lantern to.
I then made my way over to Gizmo’s stall to get a closer look at both the man and the collection of potential gear and tonics that I could make use of. Upon noticing the customer closing in on him, the man seemed to panic and nearly tripped over himself as he tried to face me with a formal look like he hadn’t made a fool of himself.
“Heh, my first customer of the day! Welcome to Gizmo’s, I’m Gizmo as you might have noticed. How can I improve your life today?” He spouted with a stereotypically nerdy voice, complete with pizza face and big round glasses. The dude needed some extensive in-depth work… and maybe a little Accutane, before he could attract the ladies socially, let alone the massive number of lady customers in the square. He even had a pocket protector on top of his pocket protector! I kept that opinion to myself though, didn’t want to hurt the poor guy’s feelings after all.
“Depends, what do you have that could improve my life?” I cocked a brow.
“Ugh… um… well” He stuttered, clearly he hadn’t worked on part two of his master plan to promote his homemade contrivances and tonics.
“How about this? I’ll point out the item and you reveal to me its purpose and functionality, let’s start with this” I picked up something that looked like a cheap knockoff of the batclaw, “This reminds me of a grappling hook device, but I can’t be too certain. Tell me how it works”
“Grappling hook, I knew that pneumatic fluke launcher was too convoluted of a title!” He frustratedly muttered to himself, “That Grappling hook device, uses highly pressurized air to fire the hook at distances of a maximum of about forty feet. There’s a dial on the pommel that adjusts for lesser distances if you so choose. To reuse it, just wind it back up and give it a few good pumps”
“And how sturdy is the hook itself?”
“It’s anodized steel, it should be durable enough for whatever you’ll use it for. The roping included should also be resistant to fraying and snapping due to high tensile stress” He made for a convincing argument in favor of his bulbous contraption.
“I might have a use for this, how much do you want for it?” I probably didn’t since I had my wings, but I felt pity for this awkward man.
“It took me a while to put that thing together, so I’ll part with it for twenty five bits”
“Sold” I handed him the money, my bag of bits now feeling a good deal lighter than it did this morning. I undid the buckle to the main pouch and dropped my newly acquired grappling hook launcher inside.
“Could I also interest you in some invigorating tonics perhaps? They’re not a half bad substitute for coffee! Though the same can’t be said about its flavor” He chuckled self deprecatingly.
“Ima ‘fraid not, but this kind of contraption takes some serious skill to craft though. You made this by yourself?” I asked, twirling the gun in my fingers, taking extra care not to accidentally fire it.
“You bet I did! I didn’t earn my Mana mark in engineering for nothin’!” He proudly stated before lifting up his shirt sleeve to reveal…a robot?
“Do you even know what that is?” I asked the nerdy man, somewhat bewildered by this twist of events.
“Meh, I think it’s some kind of automaton. I made one for a science fair project when I was younger, but it was too ahead of its time to get the recognition it deserved. Earning my Mana mark was recompense enough for me” He explained with a shrug. I made another mental note to remember this one; his skills could be of use some day, especially if I decided to integrate my home world’s mechanical innovations into this one.
“I see my cousin finally managed to get rid of the gift I gave her” The poindexter sniffed as he laid eyes on my new adventuring pack.
“She made such a decent sales pitch that I just couldn’t refuse the little lady” I jestingly spoke with a grin.
He huffed, “Did she even fully inform you of its uses? Or did she just tell you that it made a great hanger for her lighting instruments?”
“That’d be a big no, thought I’d figure that out for myself” I answered, shifting my pack in punctuation.
“Well I’m going to tell you anyway, as well as having a rod to attach a light to, it also has powerful enchantments on it to increase storage space, organize the materials you put into it, and even be set to only be unlocked by you”
“Wow, and she only sold it to me for ten bits!” I exclaimed, now knowing that I got a really good deal.
“The enchantments alone were worth over five times that amount” He deadpanned, a scowl on his face.
“Should’ve explained that to your cousin then” I shrugged noncommittally, “So how do I get this pack to only recognize me?”
“Just slap a representation of your Mana mark onto it and the enchantments will take care of the rest”
“Oh, that sounds so… simple” I uttered, slightly disappointed.
‘So much for that!’
“Uh huh. Anyways, between us guys…” He leaned towards me and spoke in a badly hushed whisper, “Do you know how to talk to girls?”
I stared at him like he had asked a stupid question, “The overwhelming majority of people I’ve spoken to in the last twenty four hours have been female. Why are you asking?”
He flustered, visibly embarrassed by what he was about to ask, “Well I’m not the most proficient at speaking with the fairer sex and there’s this one gal I’ve had a crush on for a while… but I’ve always frozen up with fear every time I’ve gathered up the courage to get within hearing distance of her”
“Okay… and who is this lucky lady?” I wisely kept my tone neutral and resisted a chuckle at how pathetic this guy was acting.
“The one over there, selling carrots” He gestured in the direction of a certain orange haired woman, handing a tied up bunch of equally orange vegetables to one of her customers.
‘You must be joking’
“Golden Harvest? You have a crush on Golden Harvest?” I repeated, floored yet again by unforeseen factors.
“Shh! Quiet, I don’t want the whole town to know!” He shushed me, despite the fact that he was currently making more noise than I ever did.
“Chill, what’s so difficult about this? If she’s single and you think you might have a shot, don’t be afraid to ask her out. If she rejects you, then it’s her loss (‘Because you can’t afford to be choosey with a gender disparity as lopsided as this’) and no skin off your back” I nonchalantly listed, not having a problem with letting my opinion be known.
“But what if she does reject me!? I don’t know how I’d deal with that” He almost whimpered, “Look at you. You’re tall, rakishly handsome, not…me. You’re probably up to your elbows in swooning women!” He declared with envious jealousy.
“I don’t bring sand to the beach if that’s what you mean, but I’m not the kind of guy who goes out into the world and womanizes” I mildly reproached him for the insipid implication, “I treasure the close women in my life, always taking care to provide for their emotional needs, lending an understanding ear if they feel the need to vent, and reminding them that I believe that they’re amazing, even if no one else does”
He groaned pessimistically, “That’s another thing you have over me, you’re a romantic! Women love that sappy stuff!”
“I know a few women who’d disagree with you on that” I chuckled before becoming stern again, “But seriously though, don’t stall, don’t stutter, just be a man and go ask her out. Failing that, at least try to grab her attention and let her know that you’re interested”
He slumped down in his stall, “I don’t think I have the confidence to do that”
I sighed for what must have been the tenth time that day, this wasn’t the kind of situation I’d ever envision myself being part of. What do I do? Offer to be this guy’s wingman? Play matchmaker like one of those… ‘shippers?’. This was just too much drama for someone like me to stomach. But on the other hand, finding Carrot top a caring mate would be good progress in making up for the Fright Night incident.
“I could… set you up on a date by proxy” I hesitantly offered, feeling very uncomfortable with what I was about to do if he accepted.
“You’d really ask her for me!? That’s just sublime!” He all but cheered in excitement.
“But first you gotta tell me why you fancy Golden Harvest over there” I pointed a thumb in her direction.
“Golly, where do I start? I admire how she works so hard to grow and provide us aliments with sufficient carotene, I kinda need it for my less than optimal vision you see?” I rolled my eyes at the terrible banality, “She’s always friendly to those around her” (‘Not when they’re me!’) “Not to mention that she’s breathtakingly gorgeous, the golden ratio’s got nothing on all of those curves!”
‘And there’s the sexual attraction, at least he’s honest’
“Okay then, but remember, even if she accepts your invitation to a date. You’ll have to take over from there, I will not be the one holding your hand through this, in fact you should end up holding hers if you play your cards right and act like the gentleman that she deserves. Got it?” He nodded fervently, “Good, now tell me what the fanciest restaurant in town is” I commanded.
“Huh? Why?” He asked, visibly perplexed.
“Because a good date usually involves a nice meal, provides an atmosphere where you can converse and tell her about yourself and ask about her, and from there that typically leads to a night on the town” I told him, the logic behind it slowly dawning on him.
He smiled, “I like the way you think friend!” I winced at the second dropping of the F bomb that day, my vexation apparently going unnoticed by the man who adjusted his glasses in thought.
“I hear good things about this one place called the ‘Three Leaf Clover’, it has a good variety of cuisines and the service is excellent. A little on the pricey side, but Golden Harvest is worth it!” He divulged, the smile on his face curling upwards at finally having a chance with the object of his desires.
“Right, well I’m off to ask a girl out… in your stead” He didn’t seem to catch the derisive tone I injected into the statement.
I caught Goldy at a good time, right between a bout of customers. She saw me coming and pretended not to pay me any mind, though I could see that she was watching me from the corners of her eyes. I appraised a nice looking bunch of carrots and decided to buy them; this also meant that she couldn’t ignore me for whatever reason she had for being prickly.
“You again, what do you want this time?”
“To buy some carrots… and also to inform you that you have a secret admirer who wishes to take you to dinner at the Three Leaf Clover on a day of your choosing” Her brows shot up at the revelation before furrowing once more.
“This ‘secret’ admirer wouldn’t happen to be you would it?” She narrowed her eyes at me. This spiky attitude of hers was starting to get the better of me.
“Heck no! Would it’d be a secret if did it himself instead of asking me to tell you?” She looked somewhat amused by my response.
“I’ll bite, who is he?”
“Somebody who is so captivated by your incredible beauty and elegant poise that his knees lock up at the thought of sullying your immaculate presence with his own, which he feels he must earn the privilege of basking in” I waxed poetic, feeling struck with sudden inspiration for as I caught sight of Fluttershy slowly sauntering towards Carrot top’s stall with a basket under her arm. The woman in question crossing her arms and giving off a rather unladylike snort.
“Poetry is wasted on me, but you can tell my secret admirer that I’ll accept his invitation, out of curiosity if nothing else. But if I wind up less than impressed, both of you will be banned from my stand” She issued her threat.
“Fair enough” I idly responded, keeping most of my attention locked on the graceful and demure woman keeping to herself as she walked amongst the people in the marketplace.
Oddly enough she perked up when she saw me standing there, “Oh, good morning Zenith. Are you shopping for groceries too?” She sweetly asked once she came within talking distance (for her).
“In a manner of speaking. By the way, how much for these?” I shook the bunch I was holding in front of Goldy.
“Keep em, consider that my way of saying thanks for helping me set up the stall… and my schedule for tomorrow evening” She genially replied, probably to save face in front of a customer.
“I’ll be sure to let him know, and you’re welcome for that” I patiently waited for Fluttershy to buy herself some carrots so we could resume our conversation.
“So if you don’t mind me asking, what did she mean when she was thanking you?” The shy girl humbly requested as we walked together.
“She was looking kinda down when she first arrived in the market, so as a first step in apologizing to her for the night which shall not be mentioned, I helped her set up her stand. This whole setting her up on a blind date thing is entirely unrelated” I waved a hand at the end, eliciting a subdued giggle out of the delicate pink haired woman.
“That’s kind of you, I’m sure she appreciated your sincerity greatly” She smiled up at me… God, that weapons grade smile.
I scratched the back of my head, “I guess, how about you? Shop at Carrot top’s often?”
“Oh yes, Golden Harvest always has the best carrots, my little Angel absolutely loves them”
“Who’s Angel?” I feigned ignorance.
“He’s my pet bunny, he can be a little unruly sometimes. But he’s just the sweetest thing once you get to know him” She looked to me, “Do you have any pets?”
“My family used to own a dog and a cockatiel when I was younger, but I myself don’t have one”
“That’s a shame, but if you ever feel in need of their company, I know plenty of little critters who’d love to meet you” She offered with a smile, an offer I’d have to put off unfortunately.
“I’ll have to take a rain check on that, I still have to inform a certain someone of the good news. Will I see you later perhaps?” I asked her with a hopeful tone.
“Sooner than you think” She unexpectedly winked at me before continuing on her merry way, evaporating into the colorful crowd. It took me a few moments to realize that I had been standing there watching her leave with small smile on my face. I coughed and recomposed myself, I didn’t want to keep Gizmo waiting and chewing on his nails in suspense did I now?
I returned to Gizmo’s stand with a neutral expression so I could make him squirm for a bit.
“Well? How’d it go?” He was actually sweating as he awaited what I had to say.
“Hope you don’t have any plans for tomorrow evening, because you sir have got yourself a date!” I grinned at the end; I’m allowed to be histrionic myself now and again.
“Yes!” He fist pumped in victory, “I’ll definitely tell the other guys that our D&D session is postponed, thank you so much! Even if this doesn’t work out, you ever need me for anything, then I’m your guy!”
“I’ll hold you to that” I solemnly apprised him, a shrill whistle caught my awareness and a turned to see my not boss finally arrive with another wagon of goods waiting to be sold and waving at me to inform me that break time was officially over.
“Looks like its back to the grind for me” I tipped my hat to Gizmo, “See you around” I didn’t feel the need to recommend that he wear something fancy and clean himself up, he should be able to figure that out by himself.
I reached Applejack as soon as she finished hitching Clyde and Dale to one of the many hitching posts surrounding the town hall.
“Finally back huh?” I dryly asked of the hatless cowgirl as she pulled down the wooden trunk cover of the wagon to access the goods.
She looked at me funny, “What’aya mean finally? I couldn’tve been longer than an hour… or two” She tried her best to speak candidly, but there was a telltale waver in her voice that warned me of an imminent surprise party once we got back.
“If you say so, let’s get back to making some serious dough” I placed my recently obtained carrots on my side of the passenger bench.
“Dough? Does this look like a bakery ta you?” She chortled at the flat expression I gave her.
“Dough, bits, moolah, shekels…money! It’s just a figure of speech Applejack” I huffed; feeling annoyed by how much she was enjoying her teasing of me.
“Ya don’ have to refer to me by my full name sugarcube, feel free ta just call me AJ alright?”
“Ok then AJ, let’s get back to selling the people what they need” I pressured her, eager to burn some time doing something productive.
“Don’t be overexertin’ yerself now sugarcube, you’ll need your energy for later” She said with a chuckle, I dialed down the ardor in response.
“Do I still have to wear your hat? It doesn’t aerate very well” I whiningly asked, although this was mostly an excuse, to me AJ just didn’t look the same without it.
“No ya don’t, give it here” I handed it back, watching as she put it on with stylish flair, she finally looked complete again.
She clapped her hands together, “Let’s hop to it!”
⁂
And so the next few hours were spent raking in even larger amounts of gold coins while also insuring that the pantries of practically everyone in town would be full for the next week. This time around, Applejack had brought some freshly baked apple pies that were not only American, but very delicious as well, which I found out for myself during a snack interval. They also sold like hotcakes, all twenty of them gone within a period of fifteen minutes. Much of the time AJ spent during her absence was baking them in mass, though when I asked her how she was able to make them all taste so freaking good, she smirked and told me that it was a close family secret. I don’t think she caught my meaning when I remarked that she and Colonel Sanders had that in common.
Before long the Sun was beginning to set and everybody started packing up his or her stall in order to go home. I aided Applejack in dismantling ours and placing the components in the wagon while she unhitched Clyde and Dale to yoke them to harness. By and large, I liked how the day went, it was less tiring than whacking apple trees with mallets and more fulfilling in seeing the content customers fork over their coin for the literal fruits of our labor. The ride back to Sweet Apple Acres was spent in total silence, which I welcomed since it gave me some time to be alone with my thoughts.
I made up my mind to visit the Neverfree castle tonight; I wouldn’t have to travel along the forest floor since I was reasonably certain that the spires of the no doubt dilapidated stone building poked above the canopy, but I was yearning for some adventure, so I’d walk there anyway. Still, I had to make sure that I was decently prepared; there was no telling what I might find in the ruins of a haunted castle. Most likely the path would be fraught with danger…and excitement. But I didn’t have to be too concerned, Luna did teach me the spell to vanquish dark spirits, all I needed to do was latch onto it with my magic and chant some words that would essentially give the spirit an excruciating boot from the mortal realm. It was too bad that I didn’t take the time to visit a blacksmith to see if they offered any kind of light armor that could serve as protection while still allowing me full mobility. I paid it no mind though; I’d just have to rely on my augmented reflexes to keep me out of harm’s way I guess.
We pulled up in front of the farmhouse and AJ motioned for me to get off here, telling me that she could park the cart and lead Clyde and Dale back to their stables by herself. I put up no resistance and entered the house to head back to my room and put away the replacement clock I bought from Time Turner’s and stow my prewashed carrots in my regular bag for later snacking. I left my new adventuring pack with the grappling hook to the side of my bed. Because I didn’t feel the need to go anywhere else, I pulled out my laptop and started testing out a new spell that I had recently come up with during my many brainstorming periods back in the Royal palace. After something like fifteen minutes, I was just about to begin my warm up trial run when I heard AJ’s voice call out to me from outside my open window.
“Zenith! Got time to help me out with somethin’ in the barn?”
“Sure thing AJ! Be down in a sec!” I closed my laptop and jogged downstairs past a sleeping Annabelle with a curled up Winona on her lap and onto the front porch.
The big red barn that AJ mentioned wasn’t hard to miss since it was located at the forefront of their property, even in the dimming light of dusk. I ambled my way to it to see one of the large doors leading inside creaked open and shushed whispering coming from inside. I smirked to myself; this was a badly executed attempt to surprise me. Still, the thought and consideration put into even having this despite my poor first impression was charming in its own way. Acting on the spur of the moment, I decided to have a little fun with this; I cast a quick spell on myself that would allow me to see into the interior of the barn without having to open the doors. Sure enough, there was a large mass of people lying in wait with anticipative grins on their faces and various instruments like party poppers and whistles to hammer the surprise effect home. There was a gap in the middle of the crowd large enough to suit my plans for turning the tables on them, I took cover next to the wall and put my simple plan into effect.
‘Time to enact phase one’ I used my magic to stimulate a burst of wind that slowly swung the cracked door open, it wasn’t long before shouts of ‘Surprise!’ rung out and were shortly followed by murmurs of confusion when the guest of honor was unexpectedly absent.
‘Phase two is a go’ I gathered up a small chunk of my magic and used it to power a short jump teleportation spell straight into the gap I saw earlier. I appeared with a bright flash and a smarmy simper on my face, causing those around me to jump in shock at my sudden entrance.
“Who’s surprised now?” I bumptiously asked, the self-satisfied smile never leaving my face. It may have meant establishing myself among the populace as a Stellar Mage, but declaring my temporary identity in exchange for the flabbergasted looks on their innocent faces was a small price to pay in opinion.
I used the stunned lull of the blindsided throng to take in the redecorated interior of the barn, because I had appeared in the middle, I had to read the banner welcoming me backwards; which had a standard greeting written on it. There were colorful balloons and festive garlands draped over all of the rafter beams, which gave the atmosphere a cheerful tone to it; though I thought the pine fresh smell that they added to the air made for an nice touch. The interior of the barn was also a lot roomier than I gave it credit for; there were dozens upon dozens of partygoers in attendance and there was still enough room to spare for a red and black checkered dance floor in the center of it all, with colored lights for illumination hanging close by. In the back were honest to goodness fat tower speakers and a DJ’s setup to boot! My personal favorite however were the tables absolutely stockpiled with scrumptious looking treats worthy of a king’s feast. Though my face hardly showed much, I found it touching that they pulled out all the stops simply to welcome me to their cozy town.
“Hey!” Came an indignant shout from a displeased looking Pinkie, who swiftly invaded my personal space to send a baleful glare my way, “I planned a surprise welcome party for you! You weren’t supposed to go and surprise us… I checked too! Opposite day isn’t for another three months!”
“Well…” I thought quickly for a good excuse, “I found it a tad surprising that you’d go through the effort of setting this little shindig up for my sake, I can honestly say that this is the first time I’ve ever had that happen to me”
I raised my voice as to address the whole of the party, “And I am genuinely humbled that all of you would devote time out of your private schedules in order to rejoice and be merry alongside me” I dipped my head in a grateful bow, “So thank you…” I peered back up to see them smiling, my heartfelt words having left a strong impression on them. I couldn’t really see any familiar faces in them other than the main six’s save for Davenport’s, but it wasn’t like I was expecting all the residents I had met to be present.
I struck my hands together to get the ball rolling, “So who’s ready to have a good time? Raise your hand and shout aye!”
A chorus of wild agreement answered me as all in attendance flung their hands in the air. The DJ with the iconic purple shades standing behind the turntables took that as her cue to put the needle down. Lively and upbeat music began pouring out of the speakers and bathed the air with its pounding rhythms. It made for a nice distraction as I squeezed through the springing bunches and set a course for the punch bowl. That didn’t stop six distinguished figures from finding me and engaging in chitchat as I poured myself a nice glass of (hopefully not gummied) fruit punch to quench my thirst.
“That was quite the uplifting little speech you delivered back there darling. Such eloquence is truly befitting a princely figure such as yourself” Rarity complimented me with a fawning quiver of her ample eyelashes.
“I’m no Prince miss Rarity, though I certainly aspire to retain the scrupulous values of one” I dismissively replied before taking a swig of my drink, it had a strange spicy tang to it that I couldn’t quite place. That’s when I realized that it was spiked with alcohol, and that I had inadvertently risked my sobriety by not asking about it earlier. I shrugged to myself and downed the rest of it anyhow, finding it mildly amusing that this party of mine was far from G rated.
I sighed contently and set my glass away in a dirty dish bin, “So where’s Spike, Twilight? He couldn’t make it?” I asked the librarian.
“I have him re-cataloging all four dozen volumes of my old astronomy books, I figured that this party wouldn’t have been to his taste anyway” She motioned to the punch to support her statement.
‘Poor Spike, always being treated like a little kid. Which I suppose he actually is, in a cosmic sort of way’ I mused while nodding in faux understanding.
“Nice entrance by the way, you’ll have to tell me how you managed to mask the pop of air that occurs when you displace the air around you with a blink spell” She solicited me with her commending remark.
“It’ll take a large expenditure of mana on your part, but I’ll compare notes with you before long” Her eyes actually glimmered with excited expectancy.
“I’m really glad you like your party, Pinkie and the other’s went through so much effort to make you feel welcome to our wonderful home” Fluttershy spoke up, huddling much closer to her friends when surrounded by so many people.
“Truly I do” I replied with complete candor, “You people really didn’t have to go out of your way just to provide me with such a exuberant reception, but I appreciate it none the less”
“Well of course I did! It’s my duty as the premier party person of Magiville to insure that everyone passing through at least gets a reminder that their presence is cause for celebration, and what better way to celebrate than to party!” Pinkie energetically bounded up and down as she spoke.
I faced Applejack next, “So is this what you had in mind when you told me to save my energy AJ? Cause I got more than enough to spare for this get together”
She sported a devious looking grin, “Partially. Ya see… we here at the farm have this one time honored tradition that I’m plannin’ on breaking out in ten or more minutes that’ll really test yer mettle”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
She shook her head and her grin grew larger, “You’ll just have ta wait n’ see, now won’t ya?”
I pretended to be irritated, “Fine! Keep me in suspense then” I acknowledged Dash next, “Yo Rainbow”
“Whatup? So are you gonna show off your sweet moves on the floor?” She smiled coyly at me and motioned to where everybody was currently grooving to the beat.
I looked up like I was deep in thought, “Hmm…I think I just might! Hang tight for a sec” I started treading towards the DJ’s stand with the intent of discovering just how compatible the analogous tech here with my own.
The shorthaired girl chortled with poorly suppressed mirth, “Don’t embarrass yourself out there too much kay?”
‘You’re going to swallow your words Skittles, this I swear!’ I ignored her jab and walked up to the slowly head banging DJ, she was a pale girl with the most electric looking hair I had seen so far. She noticed my approach and pulled one of her headphones down to regard me.
“Got a request pretty boy?” She asked, scrutinizing me up and down with a tilt of her head.
Whatever I was about to originally say was cut off by that last remark, “Pretty boy? I am more of the roguishly handsome type thank you very much… and in a manner of speaking, yes. May I see your hookups?”
She tilted her shades down, revealing a striking pair of crimson eyes not unlike my own, “Depends, what do you have in mind?”
I dug into my pocket and fished out one of my precious devices and few reminders of home and twirled it in my fingers. I looked at the easygoing DJ with a knowing grin as she eyed my IPod with an interested expression.
“Your stuff is good, make no doubt about it. But I’ve got a track that’s something I can really jam to, if’n you catch my drift” I stuck out a thumb in the vicinity of the dance floor where the exhausted looking dancers were vacating and bearing towards the snack table and conveniently allowing for me to borrow the stage light.
“If you think you can make it work, then go for it! You’re the guest of honor here, not me” She motioned for me to step up next to her.
“Glad you see it my way” I hopped onto the platform beside her and proceeded to examine the set up, inexplicably finding a USB plugin and a unused cord just asking to be utilized.
‘I stopped being dumbfounded by these weird coincidences long ago’ I grabbed the line and connected it with my IPod, causing the music to temporarily cease and grab everybody’s attention. I flicked my finger through the song selection until I found the one I was looking for, giving it a tap and airing it for the first time in Arcania.
I strutted onto the lit up floor checkers and allowed my passive muscle memory spell do it’s work, subconsciously guiding my movements to emulate those I had been watching online. I didn’t spend those fifteen minutes twiddling my thumbs you know, and this was as good a spot as any to begin testing it out. I was already starting to see the results as I swayed side to side with liquid like smoothness followed by a half spin to a crouch as soon as the bass dropped. I did a complex series of sideway somersaults, handstand spins, and drumming my hands against the ground like the Night Fox from Ocean’s twelve (Who ‘inspired’ many of my motions). I wasn’t much for dancing, but the way I was mechanically moving in absolute coordination with the music must have proven hypnotic, because most of the crowd had stopped whatever they were doing to gawk at me. By the end of the song, I had returned to the same spot I had initiated in with a dramatic flourish. My reward was the roaring applause of everybody who had been watching and a priceless jaw drop from Dash.
I retrieved my IPod from the setup and garnered a ‘not bad’ look of approval from the DJ.
“You know how to move pretty boy, I’ll give you that” She complimented; it was enough for me to ignore her grossly inaccurate nickname for myself.
“I guess I do, thanks for letting me commandeer your equipment for a bit” I made my way back to the punch bowl spot, Dash still staring at me with an expression of sheer disbelief plastered on her face.
“Wish I had my camera” I smugly echoed her words before giving myself pause, “Oh wait… I do” I tapped the camera function on my IPod and pointed it at the frozen woman, the ‘Ka-click!’ noise adding insult to injury.
I smiled to myself as I gazed upon the saved image, “Oh yeah, that’s a Kodak moment right there”
That seemed to snap her out of it, “And just what was that!? Yesterday I found you floundering out in the fields, and now you’re tearing it up like some professional choreographer! What changed?”
I shrugged, “I just got better is all, guess I won’t be asking for your advice any time soon”
She huffed, not happy at having egg on her face, “Yea, well you’re still about as good as egghead over here in comparison to me!” She elbowed said girl, who frowned at her disapprovingly and muttered something to herself about Valkyrian hotheadedness.
“I don’t rightly know what Dash is goin’ on about, those were some damn fine moves out there sugarcube!” AJ tipped her glass of punch in my direction with a toasting gesture.
“Yeah! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody with moves like that! And I’ve tried out almost all of them in the manual!” Pinkie produced a handbook out of her frizzy hair and opened it up to stare at it thoroughly.
“You were very good” Fluttershy nodded and smiled at me.
“It was not something that I am normally accustomed to associate with dancing… but I suppose there’s no accounting for varied tastes” Rarity said before sipping out of her glass like the prim and proper lady she strived to be.
“Better than I could’ve done” Twilight acknowledged, “I don’t think studying all of the books on Ethno-choreology in existence could make me any less sloppy with my footwork and timing”
“I could help you out with that too, if you wanted” I told her, the thoughtful look on her face telling me that she’d seriously consider it.
“Encore, encore!” The delighted masses started to repeat, shaking their fists and the air and systematically stomping their feet.
“Psst!” Pinkie loudly whispered in my ear, “I told them that you could sing too!”
“And just how would you know that?” I cocked a brow at the overbearing woman.
“Dashie told me about all about your ‘earlier’ performance in AJ’s fields” She stated factually with a coy smile, before shoving my guitar into my arms, “Don’t forget to make it good!”
‘Do I even want to know how she just hammer spaced my guitar?’
I looked up at her, “Don’t tell me… in case of serenading emergencies?”
“Uh huh! You’re good!” She passionately nodded. I could have sworn I heard a cowbell shaking noise accompany the action.
I searched my memory banks for something worth playing when I remembered a quote I had said earlier after I whacked the mole known as my alarm clock. It was a fitting song too, the lyrics summed up how I felt quite nicely and I happened to know the finger work involved to play it acoustically. I found a nice haystack to pop a squat on as the crowd surrounded me with eager expressions on their gleeful faces. Without delay, I began strumming the instrument given to me by Octavia for the second time. In the back, I saw that Pinkie had somehow procured a small drum set and was lightly tapping the cymbals as she backed up my guitar. My audience was instantly enraptured in the music, some of the more emotional people even shedding a couple tears at the message imbued within the lyrics.
The applause I obtained once the song reached its terminus was much more subdued, my audience clearly thinking deeply about what they had borne witness to. I handed my guitar back to Pinkie so she could do whatever it was she did and put it back where she got it. Despite the content of the song I had just poured my heart into, none of the element bearers asked me about it, which I was thankful for. I think we developed enough of an unspoken understanding that they didn’t need to.
I heard a low-pitched whistle come from one end of the barn that Applejack immediately responded to with one of her own, “Alright ere’body! Ya’ll feelin’ up for a little competition?” The majority of the now happy horde rallying in the affirmative, “Bring in the barrels Mac!”
I turned to see the heavily built man enter the barn carrying a sizable keg of what was no doubt alcoholic fluid on each shoulder. Setting them down and clearing a spot at the long snack table before going back to repeat the process. Everyone starting whooping and hollering in even greater excitement, they knew what was in store for them.
I turned to Applejack, “Lemme get this straight, your time honored family tradition involves imbibing more the person across from you?”
“Eeyup! You up for it? The grand prize is a special barrel of our famous reserve spiced apple cider” She waggled her eyebrows indicatively.
“Oh man! You’re making your reserve cider the prize!? I am so winning this competition, for the cider!” Rainbow put on her game face; she really loved her spiced cider apparently.
“I’m not really a drinker, I’ll pass…” I tentatively said, staring off to the side.
“That’s cause you know you can’t keep up with the Dash!” She proudly pointed both thumbs to herself; she was just itching to be knocked down a few pegs. Pride goes before the fall… her fall that is.
“Permit me to test that statement. We’ll see who drinks who under the table tonight!” I grabbed a seat closest to the kegs and snatched up one of the many mugs that AJ had provided. Dash took the seat across from me and copied me with a competitive gleam in her eye.
“Ugh… I refuse to watch the rest of these heathens humiliate each other over something as unpalatable as a barrel of that gut rot. Come along Fluttershy” Rarity exclaimed with disdain and moved to another portion of the barn with the diminutive woman in tow.
About a dozen and a half other people soon joined us and before long we had our small contest ready to go. Even though I wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone, I was beating myself up over my hasty decision. I didn’t know how much I could tolerate before kissing the dirt and I was purposely breaking one of the implicit rules I had applied to myself over an issue of pride alone. I couldn’t back out now though, it was time to put my money where my mouth was… or my drink to be specific. I sniffed at my filled mug and discovered that it was beer that made up the main course.
I lifted it high in a convivial salute to the others, who emulated me, “As some of my distant ancestors used to say, ‘Prost!’” I titled the mug bottoms up and glugged down the bitter tasting drink. Finishing at roughly the same time as Rainbow, I held down an emergent hacking cough and held out my mug to be refilled.
And so went the first of many rounds of frothy mugs from the tap. I had to hand it to Rainbow; the woman’s cheeks only began to get rosy after the fourth mug. It may have been my imagination, but she probably had the same level of tolerance as my girlfriend. Which is to say that this contest could have been ridiculously harrowing. If it weren’t for something mind boggling bizarre, I wasn’t displaying any signs of alcohol consumption whatsoever. I wasn’t turning red, I wasn’t having difficulty keeping my balance on the wooden stool, I wasn’t even starting to feel the least bit tipsy! I was starting to wonder if my hardy Trifect physiology was preventing me from getting that buzz that Daring had raved to me about on more than one occasion. Before long, the last four contestants not having succumbed to the drink were myself, a heavily swaying Rainbow, a purple haired woman who I knew just had to be Berry Punch, and strangely enough; Big Macintosh who while visibly inebriated, still kept his stoic face screwed on tight.
The last two eventually chose to drop out, each staggering out of the barn in search of a lavatory to hurl in. Rainbow wasn’t fairing much better, she looked at me with incredulity and spoke in a very slurred voice.
“Hows hzit yuer still shtandin? Nobody can pound down ash many as me and shtill be conc-Hic! Conscio…” She slumped over and fell off her chair, signifying her defeat. She lifted a shaky arm into the air and whimpered something about losing such a magnificent prize that I barely picked up on.
Applejack grabbed my free arm and raised it up. “Zenith here is the winner! And still lookin’ sober on top of it!” She noted with amazement.
“Keep the cider for me alright? I’ll probably save it for a special occasion” She nodded her agreement and began cleaning up after all the spilled mugs and other debris left on the table.
The rest of the festivities went well, the people who had drunk their fill and were still coherent enough to stand were singing local ditties off key and haphazardly, but with joviality in their intoxicated hearts. I resigned myself to becoming a bit of a wallflower, leaning against one of the wooden pillars holding up the structure of the barn and people watching. Every so often, I would be approached by one of the partygoers who would engage in casual conversation where questions and lists of hobbies were exchanged, as well as witticisms passed on by me when they said something foolhardy or injudicious on their part. There was also the mayor, who wisely refrained from giving into the drunken degeneracy (and insisted that I call her Evelyn for some reason). The most memorable of the bunch however was when this one girl whose body language screamed of floozy sidled up next to me in order to solicit.
“Hey hot stuff, want to find out what it feels like to explode twice?” A very drunk woman with lemon chiffon hair and half lidded orchid eyes inquired of me with a comical ‘hic!’ and sultry smile.
I gave her an unamused look, “One word…abstinent”
She clapped both hands against her head, “Gak! My poor non virgin ears!" She exclaimed dramatically.
A girl with what I could only describe as watermelon hair promptly grabbed the intoxicated bimbo and pulled her away from me.
“You’ll have to overlook Cloudkicker here, she’s even more insufferable after guzzling some liquid courage” She vouched for her loose friend’s behavior with a nervous titter.
“It’s quite alright, miss…?”
“Blossomforth, it's been nice to meet you though!” She hurriedly escorted the wobbling blonde outside and presumably back home.
Moreover, I did have this strange encounter with a girl sitting outside the barn door that wore a green hoodie and was plucking at a lyre. She said something cryptic about the jocund sounds of people connecting with each other providing her a sort of warmth that went beyond physical sensation. Before I could get more out of her however, I was interrupted by Pinkie who wanted me to spin her for pin the tail on the jackass (don’t know why they used that instead of donkey). When I turned back to face the hooded girl, she had up and disappeared. I shrugged to myself and indulged the Pink one for a good spin.
Like all good things, the party eventually came to an end, and the exhausted guests returned to their abodes to get some rest. I stayed behind with the girls to aid with clean up time, adamantly refusing to sit out restoring the barn back to its previous condition just because the party had been for me. Eventually they relented and let me speed up the process with a helpful dosage of my magic. Soon, we said our farewells and went our separate way, with Fluttershy kindly offering to take the woozy Rainbow Dash back to her cottage to recover. I walked with Applejack back to the farmhouse, chuckling alongside her at her recounting the more humorous events of the day.
The cowgirl yawned and rubbed at her eyes once we passed the screen door into her home, “Whoo wee, am I feelin’ tuckered. Nighty night Zenith” She unexpectedly gave me a one armed hug and ascended the stairs to her bedroom.
I followed her example and relocated myself to my guest room, taking care to firmly close the door behind me and waiting until I was certain that everyone in the house was asleep. I checked and rechecked my belongings and allocated what I thought I might need into my adventuring pack. My Tantō was strapped to my backside where I could quickly unsheathe it as always, though an enchanted short sword could only protect against so much on its own, the decent number of combat ready spells I possessed mitigated much of that disadvantage. Overall I didn’t excessively spend my mana reserves, so I should still have had enough juice to deal with anything I might encounter once I exceed the border leading into the Neverfree. Feeling suitably ready for my field trip to the Castle of the Royal sisters, I grabbed my pack and gently heaved it over the windowsill and onto the tile roofing before squeezing my self through and slipping into the black of night.
⁂
I took that opportunity to look up at the late evening sky, the stars glittering in the black background never ceased to astound me. I re-donned my pack before spreading my wings to take off into the chilly night sky and to the edge of the Neverfree to the southeast of the farm. Within a few minutes of flight time, I had reached the fringes of the dreaded forest. I landed on a dirt path protruding past the tree line and followed it into the bowels of the woodland beast. Almost the moment I stepped foot inside, there was this strange feeling brewing in my gut that I was now being observed. I did my best to ignore it and continued undaunted, following the winding path in hopes of it leading to the wooden bridge that gained access to the castle and my objectives.
I came across an unexpected but very familiar clearing, the same one that I had observed Carrot top and her friends offering sugary tribute to ward off dark spirits. There was a key difference this time though; the statue where the Night Terror once stood was now vacant, the smooth base of the platform leaving no trace of what happened to the stone effigy. I dismissed it as an irrelevant anomaly and waded deeper into the treacherous forest.
‘Don’t know why they would bother calling it that, this place is more like the unholy lovechild of a jungle and a swamp’ I quietly opined to myself as I stepped over a fallen tree trunk and into some lovely thorn bushes.
I kept my right hand close to my weapon at all times, never knowing when I could be ambushed by the many predators that might be hidden within the thick and lush foliage. The light that the crystal in the tiny box lantern emitted did a good job of staving off the darkness, but on the downside, gave away my position to any nearby hungry creatures with functioning eyes. I edged a little too close for comfort next to a boggy pond and almost had my leg chomped into by a creature I could only describe as a Croc made out of rocks.
I was beginning to have second thoughts about not flying to the castle when my musings were disrupted by the sound of gently flowing water, this was a good sign since it meant that I was nearing the river that ran through the Neverfree and acted as a kind of reference point telling me that I was two thirds of the way there. I had only been briskly walking for roughly an hour so this was a bit of a relief to be sure.
I was half expecting to run into a river serpent with a fancy mustache, but sadly, no such thing occurred much to my regret. The feeling in my gut I had mentioned earlier had only grown stronger as I put one foot in front of the other, I had at first hypothesized that it was some kind of natural magical deterrent field that kept innocent people away from the Neverfree, but I could sense a malevolent and spiteful aura behind it that told me otherwise. I reached out with my senses to try tracing it back to an originating point, but to my unsettling dismay, felt that the whole of the forest was the origin.
I picked up the pace and eventually lugged my way out of the thicket and nearly over the edge of a deep chasm the second I emerged. Biting down the utterance of several loud and creative invectives, I looked to my left and my right in search of the wooden bridge, spotting it a few dozen meters to my left with the vertex of the castle ruins just beyond that. I spread my wings and surpassed the gap with a couple beats, no way in hell was I going to cross some rickety old bridge with planks covered in mildew and rotting at the fibers, that would be just asking the universe to invoke Murphy’s law.
The shambles of the Neverfree Castle were smack dab in the middle of a large glade in the forest that even after a millennium hadn’t engulfed and devoured the decrepit wreck of a building. It was almost as if the magical echoes of that fateful time in history permanently memorialized the remnants of the castle and kept it shielded against the ravages of time. Closer analysis however regressed much of that line of thinking, the place was clearly in state of disrepair the likes of which even Fix-It Felix, Jr. would shiver at the sight of. There were massive cracks in the foundations, weather erosion had been anything but kind to much of the stonework, it was a wonder that the fragments of stained glass windows were still in the faded condition that they were.
I moved up the steps and towards the large cast iron doors that composed the entrance, there wasn’t a lot of ambient noise in the surroundings to begin with, but it was like the world held its breath as I pushed them open, with a reverberating groan of the unoiled hinges echoing all throughout. I was silently hoping that I hadn’t performed the equivalent of Pippin accidentally pushing an armored carcass down a well and awaking the evils that dwelled within Moria. The entrance hall of the castle itself was rather sparse, its only sentinel being that of a sizable stone pedestal with five flat plates orbiting a sphere. After getting my fill of where the elements were kept, I strode across the tattered carpets and into what seemed to be an open roofed courtyard (though whether or not that was the result of the Night Terror’s renovations were unknown) with a series of hallways and corridors that led who knows where deeper into the sinister ruins.
“I really wish Luna had at least given me a map or something, because I can’t find a directory anywhere in this dump. It’s like the first day of University all over again” I mutedly muttered.
I blew a stray lock of hair out of my vision and did a complex rehearsal of methods for plotting my next course. And by that I mean I played tic tac toe with the entrance lobby’s many archways. One of them eventually had to lead to the Castle library right? From there I could find the book that Luna had attached sentimental value to and hopefully not bump into any ferocious dark spirits on the way there. Wishful thinking right? Anyway, I selected a random corridor on my left and walked that way, the light of my lantern casting aside the shadows and illuminating my way through the dreary wreckage and rubble that dotted much of the floor. Several minivan sized holes in the wall and ceiling that looked like they had been blasted out grimly reminded me of the powers that the Princesses (and by extension myself) wielded. If they were ever misused, senseless death and devastation would be the order of the day; I solemnly vowed to myself that I would only ever use my abilities to further a just cause, one that would not be solely self-serving.
Along the walls of the hallways were portraits and paintings of people and figures long since passed, my knowledge of creepy castles and the like told me to make sure that their eyes weren’t following my movements. But so far as I could tell, they were ordinary oil paintings. At the end of this corridor was a doorway opening into a spiral set of stairs, internally fuming that this place had something in common with the Crystal Citadel, I begrudgingly moseyed down them in my search for the elusive library. My lantern’s light resulting in irregularly shaped shadows while I descended the steps. At the bottom of the stairs was another hallway with imposing ancient suits of empty armor standing guard; the creepy thing was that all of the heads were turned to stare threateningly at me.
“I suddenly have a very disquieting feeling about this” I inauspiciously murmured.
As if on cue, swirling shadows of darkness coalesced through the cracks in the floor and seeped into the armor, the rusted joints scraping together as they moved for the first time in over a millennium. The eye slits of their helmet visors began glowing a sickly yellow as they stepped off of their displays and began to advance on me with spears drawn and leveled on me.
‘I just had to open my big mouth!’
I swiftly unsheathed my blade and began using it to quickly prep a series of hard-hitting spells. I tried hurling fireballs at them using pyro kinesis, but the old armor just bore the brunt of it with hardly a scorch mark. Next I tried puncturing the armor with magic projectiles, this mostly succeeded but because there technically wasn’t anybody wearing it, this did little to faze the tin can infantry slowly advancing on my position. It was then that I realized that I had to destroy them entirely, and began gathering my mana reserves for a devastating force spell. The first of the animated armor was within striking range when I let loose with all I had. With the amount of energy I put into the spell, it all but pulverized the metal mob as they were thrown back and disintegrated into small piles of dented plating and chainmail.
I held my position for a few moments longer just to insure that they weren’t going to put themselves together before heaving a sigh of relief, those spears that they were wielding looked really sharp despite their age. I put away my weapon and carefully stepped over the discarded protective coverings to resume my exploration of the castle, Luna’s suspicions of her old seat of power containing the remnants of her dark magics having been confirmed. I hadn’t even made it to the end of the hallway when I felt my left foot sink lower than my right, before I could register that I had just stepped on a pressure plate, a trap door in the floor sprung open its maw and swallowed me up before closing with a grinding rumble. I groaned in discomfort and began dusting myself off; once that was done I observed my new lodgings looking for a way out. From what I could discern, I was now trapped in stone cell of sorts, the only thing contrasting against the walls was a small circular hole that offered a viewport to the canyon wall outside.
‘I should feel very ashamed that I thought of this as a different kind of room’ I chastised myself, my imagination running away from me for a moment.
I wasn’t able to reprimand myself for long though, because the walls starting closing in on me like the garbage compactor on the first Death Star. I began frantically looking for some kind of means for escape; I didn’t have anything that I could use to halt the progress or prop open the rapidly narrowing walls. If I didn’t think of something soon, I’d become a permanent fixture of this damnable castle.
The walls came together with a resounding crunch.
Respawn in 5…4…3
Nah I’m kidding, I concluded that my only viable way out was by exploiting the structural weaknesses in the wall with the hole. I concentrated my magic and let it flow into the many creaks and cracks in the fortified partition in front of me. I willed it to make like a balloon and expand, the aged wall began splintering further before altogether crumbling and enabling me to leap out just as the deathtrap shut in on itself. I fell for a couple seconds before summoning my wings and touching down gently on the canyon floor. It was dank and dreary down there to be certain, the fog having settled at the bottom and shrouding all in its heavy blanket. I could hardly see five feet in front of me, but before I could fly up and back into the maze of horrific clichés that was the Neverfree castle, the fog began mysteriously clearing. Although I really wish it hadn’t, because when the misty curtain was pulled aside, it revealed the canyon’s macabre contents.
There were corpses partly buried in the mushy mud everywhere, all partially rotted to the point where bone was clearly visible. They were remarkably well persevered despite probably being hundreds of years old, and based on what was left of their clothing and gear, the bodies belonged to those who came before me. Ill-fated adventurers, archeologists looking to study the ancient castle, even the original members of the castle’s attendants who must have been cast down during the calamitous clash between the royal sisters. But that couldn’t have been correct because of the other deceased people entombed here; they had to have been moved down here by something, but by what? To my ever increasing dread, I discovered that the eyes and mouths of those that still retained enough flesh on their faces had been sown shut, a black ichor flowing through gaps in the stitching like the tears of the perished.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get it any more ghastly, there was an unholy sounding resonance that vibrated the air and bid the dead to slowly rise and drag themselves towards me in several dozen droves, all moaning in agony as they came, some warning me to run and save myself. This indicated that they were still sentient and very much aware of what they were doing, which now made me despise the dark spirits more than I ever had previously. I had my Tantō in my hand faster than lightning and began to ignite a fire spell in my other. So far it hadn’t proven effective on an inorganic enemy, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case with people who should have been cremated long ago. With a flicker of deleterious intent in my eyes, I unleash my hell storm, sending the whirlwind of fire barreling into the undead legion and expeditiously turning them into charred ashes. I coupled my pyro kinesis with my blade and wreathed it in flame as to finish off the rest; I rushed headlong into the traipsing throng of those that remained and ended their suffering with a series of swings, hacks, and slashes that severed them limb from limb and set what was left alight.
I stood silently in the aftermath of the dying flames feeling more grim than usual, this whole time there were the souls of the deceased trapped here and no one even knew it. Worse yet, the dark spirits that I came to vanquish had been using them, most likely feeding off of the misery and woe of those who could not join their loved ones in eternal rest, and even having the gall to pit them against me once they were located and the secret was out. I ascended the depths of the canyon with a newfound resolve to destroy this dark enemy of mine with extreme prejudice. I repeated the words of power that Luna imparted me with in my mind. ‘Reprimo, Expurgate, Deleo’ all Latin, all relating to the notion of restraining and purging something unwanted. I did not wonder about the fascinating similarities and differences our worlds shared this time, nay instead I steeled myself to use the spell taught to me to end a threat to life and liberty once and for all.
I flew above the ramparts of the castle in search of an entry point, finding more than plenty of them in the roof. I picked one near the center of the castle and dived inside, finding myself in some kind of chamber that was narrow by the doorway but expanded to accommodate a large brass pipe organ with tall and unlit candelabras on either side of it. I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to see if it was still in working order. Walking up to the dusty keyboard, I pressed down on one of the ivories and was rewarded with a shrill high pitch tone, the pipe connected to it expelling steam and blowing away masses of cobwebs that had accumulated over the years. I grinned to myself, perhaps I could get my quarry to come to me, what’s more aggravating than having someone cause a racket in your home after all?
I sat down on the worn leather organ bench and popped a few joints in my knuckles; I could just pretend to be a monkey and pound away at the keyboard to produce a cacophony of noise. But I was a little more refined than that, instead I bathed my appendages in my magic and reactivated my muscle memory spell, letting it guide my movements as my fingers glided over the keys and my feet worked the pedals accordingly. This piece was as fitting as it was exceedingly haunting, I dare say even Davy Jones couldn’t have done a better job (and he had a tentacle beard to perform it with!). The dark clouds hovering over the Neverfree must have merged into storm clouds as some point, because it began to pour through the aperture in the ceiling almost the moment I began to play. I wasn’t paying that much attention to anything beyond the organ, but I was able to make out cranking and whirring noises coming from all corners of the keep, mechanisms that hadn’t be used in forever were suddenly being put through their paces like race horses at the Kentucky derby.
When the final notes of the piece rang out with a piercing dissonance, I leaned back into my seat and exhaled a weary puff of air, even if the song didn’t have an effect; it still allowed for me (and the organ) to vent some steam, so there was at least that. A concatenation of light thumps that slowly grew louder with each passing second caught my ear, it seemed that my plan had worked and my enemy had answered my call so to speak. But I hadn’t been expecting them to physically show up, I quickly got to my feet and spun around to face my opponent. The puddle of water that had built up due to the rain was rippling with every heavily laden step that rapped against the eroded stonework. The swirling darkness from before began streaming through the doorway in small rivulets of ebony before a pair of intimidating stony legs stopped just shy of the archway. They promptly began moving and soon an uncomfortably familiar looking statue burst through the doorway and into the chamber, clouds of powdered rock spreading out before settling onto the linoleum.
“Huh, so that’s where it went” I idly thought out loud, analyzing upon this formidable foe for any hint of a weakness.
The statue itself was almost twice as large as myself and modeled after the Night Terror, meaning that it was clad from head to toe in serrated stony armor. The animate sculpture was also wielding a massive halberd that looked like it had been ripped off of the many weapon racks that had been hanging on the hallway walls. The uncanniest thing about this golem however, was its lack of a face. When Luna became the Night Terror, she donned a smooth metal mask that hid her features away from the world, for if none could appreciate the beauty of her night, then none would see her own beauty whatsoever. Historical anecdotes aside, I tried latching onto the statue with my magic to begin the vanquish spell, only to find it like grabbing a greased bar of soap. I growled in frustration, these spirits weren’t going to leave without a fight it seemed, a fight where they could try to stack the odds in their favor.
I drew my weapon and lowered myself into a combat stance, the statue immediately charged and heaved its sizable halberd overhead for a downward swing, one that I rolled to the side in order to dodge. The sharp end of the halberd cleaving the organ bench I had sat on clean in two and lodging itself firmly into the flooring. I slashed at the knees of the possessed statue, only for the blade to scratch against its surface and elicit a torrent of sparks. I swore loudly as the golem tried to batter me with swing of its forearm and jumped back. I was not in a good spot to put up much of a fight, my blade couldn’t do much to damage it, I had to save the remainder of my magic if I was to succeed in casting the vanquish spell, and I hadn’t even found the castle library yet. The enormous and hefty looking metallic chandelier that hung from the ceiling gave me an idea to work with though; I taunted the statue into charging me again.
“Hey rock head! The haunted mansion called… they want their banalities back!” I shouted, not knowing if it could even hear me to begin with, let alone understand that reference.
Whether or not it heard me, it started to stomp its way toward me again none the less. I compromised with myself and charged up both hands with a small but concentrated cryo kinetic spell and ran to meet the statue head on, I baseball slid under its large gait and cast my spell at both its feet, turning them into club shaped icicles and disabling its movement as it skid and tripped over itself awkwardly. The head of the statue reviewed its now stuck limbs and tried to free itself by chipping at the ice with the spear end of the halberd. Knowing that I didn’t have long, I opened my adventuring pack and took out the grappling hook that Gizmo sold to me.
‘I knew I’d find a use for this’
I adjusted the knob on the pommel and brought the device to bear before aiming it at the arms of the chandelier and squeezing the trigger, the device firing the hook at an impressive speed and whirling it around one of the chandelier arms right above the immobile statue. I hurriedly checked the line to make sure it was secure before gripping it with both hands and heaving with all my might. The supports keeping the chandelier anchored to the ceiling had weakened significantly with time and my Trifect strength proved more than enough to bring the whole thing crashing down on the contemptible golem with a deafening thud and reducing both into a cluttered mess. Not wasting a second, I reached out with what was left of my magical reserves, and with it took hold of the dark spirits, who tried to flee with haste.
“You are a blight upon this fair world, a blight which I will now erase” I began to incant the words of power and actually felt it surging into my magical grip and directly into the spirits, who I could actually feel writhing in justly deserved torment.
“Reprimo, Expurgate, Deleo. Begone foul spirits!” I ordered, the squirming of the dark essences subsiding before disappearing entirely with a final and wicked sounding chorus of wails, then all was silent save for the pattering of the rain and occasional crack of thunder from outside.
My shoulders slumped downwards and I realized just how tired I was from working all day and narrowly avoiding premature expiration by night. I sighed tiredly, and I still had to find Luna’s accursed diary. I dragged my feet out of the ruined chambers after recollecting the loosened ropes of the grappling hook and into the hallways. Another hour of tedious searching later, and I was finally among the books of the castle’s grand library, I found a nice wooden chair and sat down before leaning back and putting my feet up on the table. My relaxing was interrupted by the sound of clanking gears as a bookshelf rolled itself apart to reveal a hidden doorway.
“Really? A doorway hidden behind a bookshelf? I need to have a serious conversation with Luna and Celestia about architectural clichés and why they’re bad” I shook my head and followed it inside.
The doorway revealed a smaller private library with an eye catching book placed conspicuously on top of a pedestal in the center of the cubbyhole. I took the book in my hands and examined the cover after I dusted it off of a spider with a star pattern on its abdomen; it depicted a thin metal silhouette of each princess holding up their respective astral body. I opened it up and read a couple pages to confirm that it was indeed the book that Luna asked me to retrieve, having to stifle a chuckle at how free spirited the Royal sisters were when they weren’t putting on their rigid regal demeanors in front of their subjects.
I put the item in my pack and was about to vamoose when another thing caught my eye, just behind the pedestal was a medium sized and elaborately decorated chest that was just begging to be looted. I gave into my vault hunter desires and sauntered over to flip it open and see what its contents held, inside were a myriad of things, two ornately decorated metal bracers that I proceeded to fit onto my forearms. I noticed a strange mechanism on the bottom of my right wrist that looked a lot like…
‘It couldn’t be, could it?’ Only one way to find out.
I flicked my wrist forward and watched in astonished awe as a blade extended about seven and half inches outwards with a distinctive ‘shuerk!’. I relaxed my wrist and the blade retracted back into the bracer’s sheath, somewhere in the back of my mind the trumpets of a certain Woodkid song began blaring dramatically. I tried the same thing with the other bracer and got the same exact result. I was now the proud new owner of a pair of hidden blades.
“…Sweet…”
I examined the other articles in the chest, the next item was a less inspiring bag with gunmetal grey shards inside that I placed in my pack for further inspection at a later time. And just for all of my toils, the last item in the chest was a large bag positively full to the brim with invaluable and flawlessly cut gems that glinted even in the soft light of my lantern crystal.
Satisfied with my spoils, I exited the cubbyhole and walked up the library stairs that led out onto a balcony overgrown with vegetation, which overlooked much of the rampantly growing and dangerous Neverfree. The rainstorm from earlier had finally passed and the night sky was visible once again. I paused to gaze upon it for a second time, lost in thought and self-reflection. I sensed an overwhelming gathering of presences looming behind me and instantly spun around with my new wrist blades flicked out and ready to go.
But what I saw was not my enemy come back to haunt me; instead I was face to faces with the ghostly specters of men and women who were smiling at me. I deduced that these were the spirits of the people whose bodies I had destroyed with my great conflagration back on the canyon floor, but instead of looking decayed like their bodies had, they looked as clean and pristine as they were in life.
“Why do you persist? You are free now. Go and find peace in the hereafter” I gently urged them.
In response they dissolved into a snow-white gale that passed through me, the sensations that they invoked were impossible to accurately describe, consisting of memories, thoughts, and feelings that were not my own. But I could hear them all whispering in my ear, ‘Thank you’ before finally departing for greener pastures and leaving me in stunned wonderment. By now the night had grown late and it would barely be a few hours before Celestia rose the Sun and Luna lowered her moon and the Apple family noticed that my room was empty. I flew back to the farmhouse with all possible speed and deposited my things through my still opened window and following suit. I didn’t even bother taking a shower or changing into more comfortable nightwear before throwing myself onto my bed and passing out, my last thought being somewhere along the lines of…
‘Glad I’m jaded, otherwise I’d probably have nightmares about some of the things I witnessed this night for the rest of the week!’
With how exhausted I was, it came as no surprise that I happened across that strange and fantastical place slash state of mind that I’ve dubbed the conception canvas. What I wasn’t expecting, however was to find the unprecedented sight of the Princess of the night actually waiting there for me wearing a starry toga and with an anticipative gleam in her eyes.
“How did thy quest fare Zenith? Did thou successfully retrieve the item we informed you of? As well as cast out the foul evils lurking within the grounds of our old keep?”
‘She must either have eyes and ears in a lot of places to know that I departed just mere hours ago, or be a very accurate judge of timing’ I was once again grateful that my inner thoughts were still masked in the confines of my mindscape.
“Yes…” I spoke hesitantly, fresh memories of the things I saw flashing in my mind’s eye, “Among other things, I also made a few discoveries”
Internally I was debating over whether I was to tell her about the spirits of the deceased being prevented from finding peace until my arrival that night. It was a tough call, but I decided to leave that particular detail out of my report. Telling her that her conversion into the Night Terror essentially damned innocent people to a millennium of torment alongside her would quite likely upset her, and it pained me to see the majestic lunar monarch regress into an emotional wreck wracked with guilt over her past deeds. There was no reason to open up past wounds just to pour salt in them over something that was now resolved.
“We would very much like to hear about them” The pale skinned beauty smiled.
“Let’s discuss this someplace more scenic first” I offered, cycling through mental screensavers for a more suitable atmosphere.
I shifted the landscape around us into something more idyllic, I figured rolling grassy plains before an ocean glowing orange in an afternoon sun would have to do. The Princess gave our new backdrop an appraising glance but chose not to comment on them. I summoned for us some lawn chairs for us along with a Piña colada for the lady, who eyed it amusedly before partaking of its contents and vocalizing a thoughtful hum at the flavor.
“Because daylight can’t be more than a few hours from now at best and our time is therefore short, I’ll keep this brief” She tilted her head down in concurrence, “I ventured into the Neverfree forest, got a good idea of why people tend to steer clear of it, came upon your old castle and proceeded inside, sprung several rather cliché deathtraps; that were rather trite in this humble adventurer’s opinion. Faced a stony effigy of your own darkness incarnate and brought it low with an equally hackneyed gambit on my part which involved a heavy metal chandelier. But I have successfully exorcised the ruins of the Neverfree castle and managed to find you and your sister’s memoirs on top of it, I’ll deliver them to you personally the next time I find myself in the Capital”
She closed her eyes thoughtfully at my concise summary, “We are gladdened by your triumphs over the machinations of the architects of old and over the products of our… past mistakes” She ended slowly, looking somewhat downtrodden.
“Cheer up Luna. And leave the past where it belongs, in the past” I punctuated the statement by downing a glass of virgin mimosa that I willed into the gap between my fingers.
She inclined her head, “Of course Zenith, we shall do our best to abide by your suggestion”
I rose from the lawn chair and paced a few steps in the sand, which despite it’s nonexistence, still felt soft and grainy under my feet like the real deal. This momentarily made me think about how close to the mark the Matrix was about sensations just being a stream of information being interpreted by the brain, but I shook my head clear of it and resumed my recount of the night’s events with its benefactress.
“I found three other items of interest stowed away along with you and your sister’s diary, the first of which were a couple of the most extraordinary armored bracers” I equipped them on with only a thought and proceeded to pose in the style of assassin’s creed brotherhood, holding my arms in a crisscross fashion with the blades flicked out and extended.
Luna’s eyes widened as she beheld them, I retracted them in a smooth motion and began my inquiry, “Perhaps you could enlighten me as to their history and why they were hidden away along with your journal?”
“Those belonged to an old ally and confidant of ours named Plain Sight, a master assassin and ever faithful friend, one of the very few we were privileged to call so” She explained with a wistful expression.
I grinned wryly at his moniker, the reference not lost on me, “An assassin you say? You’d think he’d be named after something more in league with his profession” I said with faux skepticism, probing for further elaboration.
“But he was” Luna countered, “You would not be able to tell he was an assassin at first glance, since his was an unassuming face in the crowd. The reason why he was so successful was because he became one with his surroundings and made it his tool in the disposal of his targets. Whenever he saw the perfect opportunity, he would strike swiftly and with flawless execution. Rapidly disappearing into the fray without a trace, if the reports of the guards chasing him were to be believed” She wore an amused smile, clearly knowing otherwise.
“I assume he had his methods for that”
She giggled in response, “He once told us that he hid in a hay stack that was being carted out of the city after dealing with his mark” Yet again, I found myself intrigued by the uncanny video game standards this world shared with mine.
“And his bracer blades?” I patted the mechanism underneath my right arm.
“An invention of his own, those allowed for him to always be armed even when stripped of his more conspicuous conventional weapons, though they quickly became his favored instruments of lethality”
She paused in thought, recognizing the need to officially confer them to me, “Instruments that are now passed on to you, I’m sure he would rather them be used in the protection of Arcania once more than continue to gather dust for another thousand years. May they serve you well Zenith”
“And may I never find a need to use them” I said in turn, “Speaking of need, what kind of political situation existed a millennia ago that required you to employ the services of an assassin?”
She gestured to my mindscape, “May we?” to which I gave consent with a quick nod.
She began shifting it into a medieval looking hallway filled with portraits of various characters, some were of men and women that seemed honorable and upright, and those that were clearly of disreputable brigands and despots.
“Arcania was not always the carefree and peaceful land that you see today. From the times before and after its founding, the world was always in a state of flux, pointless conflicts were made over equally meaningless portions of earth, rimy Windigo spirits fed off of the bloodshed and created merciless winters that bred harsh famines everywhere, and our country itself had more than its fair share of enemies who eyed the vast resources and fertile soils of this land with envy in their minds and hatred in their hearts”
She highlighted a specific row of paintings with her magic, each depicting an unsavory looking character that fit the description of a bloodthirsty warlord like a glove. In particular she lit up the portrait of an austere man with a jagged iron crown covering his snow-white hair and maroon colored mascara like shadings around his eyes that made it seem as though his face was caked with dried blood. Even as a painting, there was a treacherous gleam in his eye that spoke volumes about his character.
“Though their lands lay beyond the tranquil sea, there were plenty of war mongers in the formerly separate city states of Gryphondria that were always scheming of uniting their country under one banner and assaulting their Arcanian neighbor to the west, the closest that has ever came to fruition was with the man who after much conquest, proclaimed himself warrior king over the Gryphon people; King Thunderblood”
“And has Arcania ever been invaded by a foreign power like them?” I asked, continuing to gaze upon the painting, deep in comprehensive thought.
“Plain Sight saw to it that the King took ill and died before ever marshaling his forces across the sea, or so the historians say” She looked over to me with a melancholic expression, “Our good friend came back to us with several new scars after his dispatching of that vile warlord, but he put an end to his despicable dreams of a Gryphondrian empire” To punctuate her statement, the portrait burst into flames until only ashes were left. I thought it was a bit melodramatic, but the guy was clearly a threat to her subjects that she was all too happy to rid the world of.
“I’ve not read much into the nations residing outside of this one, what happened afterwards?”
“With the death of Thunderblood, his lieutenants carved into his territory and fought each other into oblivion. But from the ashes rose another who would unite his people and bring order to the chaos”
“Not another warlord I hope?”
“Thankfully, a repetition was not to be; in fact we dare say that it was a pleasure to acquaint ourselves with Maximilian the Merciful, as he came to be known” I noted that this man had a unique tinge of light purple on the tips of his pointed hair, I filed that nuance away in the pending review bin.
She smiled respectfully as she illuminated his decidedly less imposing image, “A man who actually limited his power and that of his heirs by establishing a council of elders who could overrule any decree which they felt was detrimental to the wellbeing of the Gryphon people”
“And their opinions toward this country after that?”
“We’ve traded goods on occasion, but in the times before our exile they regarded us with a cool condescension. Though they held and still hold a healthy respect for the Valkyrians, whom they’ve sparred with several times in the distant past over outposts in the sky and were rebuffed every time”
“I see… what other lands does Arcania share the world with, and furthermore, how are its relationships with them?” I delved deeper into the subject.
She shot me a mysterious stare, “Why do you develop a sudden interest in affairs with which you have no stake in? We were under the impression that you were sent to Magiville to learn more about friendship, not mundane matters which concern our self and our sister”
I shrugged, “I figured it would be nicer to hear about it firsthand than read about it in some musty old book”
‘Twilight would probably strangle me if I told her that. Or worse… lecture me to death’
“We suppose that we would be remiss if you stayed uninformed in these singular matters of the state… very well”
She focused the spotlight on a new set of portraits, these being of the more agreeable looking leaders I saw earlier, “Not far to the southwest lies the tropical Minosian isles. They seem insignificant at first, but their inhabitants are among the fiercest warriors and renowned smithies in the known world. A proud and passionate people, the Minosians value strength and honor above all things, choosing to elect their leaders through age-old trials of toil and turmoil. If more than one contender makes it through their tribulations unscathed…” She shot me an impish look and grinned, “The remainder fight to the death for the right to be King”
“Sounds intense” Luna’s blithe attitude towards violence compared to her sister’s near pacifism made me wonder sometimes.
“Indeed it is, King Thorn Heart struck down four others to earn his crown” She spoke as if she admired the man’s ferocity in the ring of honor.
His painting depicted a mammoth of a man built like a tank and absolutely covered in rough scars. His was the kind of smile that indicated that he was thinking of over a dozen different ways to shatter your spine as he shook your hand very firmly. I made another mental note discouraging myself from ever taking a relaxing vacation there anytime soon.
“So what’s the deal? Do they like us, hate us, or are they indifferent?”
“If a fourth option combining them were the reason, they would be it. The Minosians have a notorious history of backing us one moment, then subverting us the next. King Thorn Heart rarely acknowledges our attempts to establish contact and our missives entreating him to speak on behalf of his people at our political summits are met with silence”
“How long has he been King?”
“Two decades now. When he expires or is defeated by a challenger, we’ll know of it via an insider we’ve taken the painstaking measures of planting in his court. But in the meantime, the Minosian people are proving to be obstinate as always. Though any who venture outside the archipelago make for great traveling company and mercenaries, or so we have been told”
“I’ll definitely bear that in mind, is there anyone else I should know about?”
Her magic bathed the portrait of an incredibly old woman with ebony skin and white tribal patterned stripes painted all over her face, “This is the elder matriarch and high priest over the savannah lands of Zstarasia far to the southeast. It is a confederacy that consists of several nomadic tribes who congregate during times of war or when other great crises arise. They are a strange people, with exotic magics and customs that few outsiders are privy to, our self included”
“Are they friendly at least?” I asked, suddenly reminded that I still hadn’t met Zecora yet. Who doubtlessly called those dry plains home at some point in the past before roosting in the Neverfree.
“They listen to the wisdom of their elders, who see my sister and I as paragons of purity and virtue. They also consider us to be the physical manifestations of their spirits of light and darkness respectively. As such, they are on quite good terms with Arcania and stand by us when it comes to international concerns, something that has drawn no small amount of ire from the other convening members at our proceedings”
“Does this Matriarch have a name and actual authority?”
She responded in the negative, “One of their customs involves abandoning any reminders of their past once they reach what they call ‘spiritual enlightenment’ and become true elders, this includes their original name. As for her influence, it all depends on her interpretation of their recorded prophecies, all of which are incredibly vague. We feel that they are a poor substitute for actual clairvoyance, as was the case with the Sisters of Fate”
I remembered a minute detail that Daring mentioned to me when I first met her and brought it up, “What about the deserts of Aridia? They’re governed by a Sultan aren’t they?”
“Sultan Mahad? I recall him expressing his displeasure in a long winded letter touching on finding a thief in his private library, which he was certain was sent by us. We dismissed his accusations as the delusions of a paranoid mind, although my sister took time out of her day to reprimand her agent for being so sloppy”
I blinked, “Daring works directly for your sister? I thought she received assignments from the C.I.A?”
She cocked a brow my way, “My sister is fond of occasionally sending her out to either neutralize or recover ancient magical artifacts. You know her agent?”
“Who do you think helped her retrieve the stolen Crystal Chalice of Sombra?” I answered her, memories of that time causing the corners of my lip to curl upward ever so subtly.
“We see, so you’re the one my sister’s operative spoke so highly of”
Flattered as I was with Daring’s praises, I waved away the accolades, “Ah, I didn’t do that much. It was either help her recover the artifact or earn my official ipseity the hard way”
“Do not be so modest Zenith, your timely participation in that matter prevented a mad man from becoming a second Sombra, thereby averting a great calamity before it could take place”
“If you say so. What about that one gaunt looking fellow over there?” I pointed to the picture of thin looking man with silvery hair flowing down his head in long cascades and cloudy eyes that were brimming with untold wisdom.
“T’is the likeness of Aschvere, chief diviner of the Eternity council. And one of the few immortals beyond the Trifects and Discord that does not reside in Arcania”
My curiosity was piqued by this revelation, “Interesting…and what can you tell me about him and the land he represents?”
“He is one of three councilmen and the strongest farseer in all of Cervidia; who place emphasis on forestalling disasters from beyond their borders leaking into their precious forests. As such, they have magically sealed off their country, any who step foot inside the eternal greenwoods leave the same way they came. Our messengers found this out for themselves”
“Why not just fly their way in?” I asked, wondering why such a practical solution was not used.
“Before isolating themselves from the rest of the world, the Eternity council issued a statement; any and all attempts to surpass the natural barriers by whatever means would be seen as an act of war and dealt with accordingly. The first and last time an army of over ten thousand strong tried to reach the city of Arboria, they never returned”
“And who would be foolish enough to send a detachment of that size?”
“The Cervidians share a frontier with the Gryphondrians, one warlord got too ambitious for his own good and personally led his men inside. There was no mourning among that warlord’s subjects; the world was much better off without him. The families of all those soldiers however, wept for their lost sons and husbands”
“A shame, and they’re still isolationist to this day?”
“Verily” She confirmed, once more utilizing that archaic vernacular that I was always fond of.
“Any other nations I should know about?”
“We believe we have versed you sufficiently in the list of major players, other factions and clandestine cabals exist, but are not as relevant. We find our self more interested in the other two objects you recovered instead”
I shrugged apathetically, “The other two aren’t as fascinating as the hidden blades. Just two bags, one filled with metallic shards and the other filled with gems, I can keep those too right?”
“You may, what color were the metallic shards perchance?”
“Grayish, why do you ask?”
“Because you now possess the components necessary to wield your very own Mageblade”
“A Mageblade?” I parroted, now feeling totally justified in keeping the seemingly useless fragments.
“A versatile weapon that in the hands of a competent mage, becomes an absolute terror on the battlefield. The bag you found contained the last of our specially forged and folded Arcanium metals, an especially rare metal with the rather unique property of being magically bipolar; one half facilitates and conducts magical energies with the utmost ease; allowing it to be coupled with secondary spells, while the other half is completely null to its effects”
‘But will it blend?’
“You also said that it was folded, care to elaborate on that?” I asked, this new armament sounded almost too good to be true.
“When fully assembled, you’ll notice that the edges of the blade are not the same coloration as those of the main body, this is because they are of the nullifying end. Not only are they honed to a very fine edge, they have the capacity for ignoring anything that has magic augmenting it; weapons, shields, even the legendary durability of Dragon scales are rendered defunct once they make contact”
“So it wouldn’t matter if someone raised a bubble shield and I struck it?” I was starting to like this new weapon already!
“Indeed, it would as they say; ‘cut through it like a hot knife through butter’” She recited the adage, yet another constant between our two worlds.
“When we first met, I noticed that you had an ordinary looking sword at your side, or did my eyes deceive me?” I inquired, connecting the dots.
“They did, you laid eyes on our personal Arcanium sword Blue Moon” She summoned a visual representation of said weapon and held the flat of the segmented silvery blue blade at face level in some kind of formal salute before dismissing it.
“How am I supposed to make use of this spellbinding new tool without a hilt?”
“You are proficient in basic levitation yes?” She rhetorically asked, she was the one to train me after all, “A hilt is a needless luxury, you can brandish it using your arcane skill alone”
“There must be over a dozen pieces though! That’s a lot to keep track of for Neophyte of the arcane arts like me” Compared to the surgically precise finesse of an age-old user like the Princess, my usage of magic was about as refined as a club. That is to say, blunt and inefficient, if last night’s magical exhaustion was any indication of that.
“Practice makes progress Zenith, you will be much more prepared for the unforgiving world outside our borders with Mageblade mastery under your belt, believe us on that”
Her eyes sparked as she remembered something, “One other thing, you must name it. In order for you and your Mageblade to truly become one, you need to attach a designation with purpose behind it. It’s one of the many mysteries of magic that eludes even us, but the results cannot be argued with”
I scratched my chin in contemplation, “I’m half tempted to name it Narsil because it’s a collection of keenly honed shards, but I think Dichotomy would be a more apt title”
‘And not just because I intend to bisect my foes with it’ I somewhat morbidly opined to myself.
“And so two became three, Dichotomy it is Zenith. Use it in the defense of Harmony and all other values which we hold near and dear” Luna officially declared, hinting that her sister had a Mageblade of her own.
“I shall” I agreed, my personal vow to serve others ringing clear.
I was about to ask if I could keep the bag full of shiny rocks when Luna spoke up, “Our memory is not so faded as to not remember the third item stored in the chest, you may also keep the gems”
“Do they have special properties as well?” I asked, half expecting them to be miniature zero point modules.
“Nay, they be ordinary jewels. Do with them as you see fit”
I was kind of disappointed to hear that, but chests don’t always contain exclusively rare items. Although that train of thought gave me an idea with what to do with them.
I did have a final request for the Lunar monarch though, “The next time you speak to your dear sister, could you ask her how in the world she managed to turn a ball point pen into a fountain pen? It boggles the mind”
The familiar cracking of the landscape signaled the approach of dawn, the Lunar Princess waved her farewell before getting one last word in.
“We will endeavor to ask her. Do tell Applejack we said hello, please” She grinningly adjured as the conception canvas finally broke apart.
⁂
The pesky rays that were the bane of anyone who wanted to sleep in five minutes longer grated against my retinas with an annoying intensity. I curmudgeonly thought about utilizing Spike to send a letter to Celestia telling her to turn down the Sun, but the sensation of a mysterious soothing warmth against my bare chest demanded my immediate attention.
‘That’s odd, I don’t remember taking my shirt off’ I cracked both eyelids up to examine the source of this enigma.
They almost snapped open when I discovered the snoozing form of Applejack holding me close like some kind of cuddly teddy bear, her hand occasionally brushing against my chest and making my breath hitch. I wouldn’t be able to extract myself from her embrace without waking her up and beginning a somewhat awkward conversation. I had stored all of my loot in my bags beforehand so it was unlikely that she would be knowledgeable about my absence for those few hours in between. This also meant that she was the culprit who came in here recently, took my shirt off, and snuggled up to me.
‘Brilliant deduction there Holmes’ I never could stand for people stating things that were mind numbingly obvious, even when it was myself doing it.
It was way too early for this crap, I decided to bite the bullet and gently nudge the hatless blonde awake. She grumbled something unintelligible and rolled in position, mercifully letting go of me in the process. I took this strange opportunity to admire her appearance, she wasn’t naked thankfully, wearing a light orange bra with an Apple shaped clasp on the back to cover up her bountiful chest. She was also lacking those bands that kept her golden locks in place, enabling it to freely flow past her freckled face and around her shoulders in long yellowy waterfalls of hair. I didn’t focus on it much in the past, but I had to admit that Applejack was quite a beautiful woman.
It still begged the question of what she was doing cuddling up next to me though. I elected to find out before something really undesirable like her protective big brother knocking on my door happened.
I leaned over and spoke to her prone form, “Didn’t I say dinner and a movie first? Shame on you for taking advantage of a dozing and completely vulnerable man” I jestingly chided her, my words having the effect of jolting her awake. She looked flustered for a moment before composing herself and seductively crawling closer to me.
“U-hh hey sugarcube, sleep well? I know I certainly did, ‘specially after the fine way ya handled me las’ night” She winked suggestively at me, although her slip up at the beginning made me doubt whatever act she was trying to sell.
“What in the world are you talking about?” I was understandably confused by her behavior, why we she sneak into my bed in the wee hours of the morning?
“Ya don’t remember? Can’t say I blame ya, with all the alcohol you quaffed down, yer memory is bound to be a lil hazy. You were a good deal more flirtatious than I expected, charmed the pants right offa me ya did” She nervously chuckled, a red tinge on her cheeks clueing me in on how difficult it was for her to maintain her guise.
I was about to retort that my pants were still on and therefore it was incredibly unlikely that we did do anything questionable, even if her ridiculous story held some semblance of truth. Then it all came together with a figurative click, as the gears in my brain finally started turning. Applejack was trying (and failing) to hoodwink me into thinking that I slept with her, but I highly suspected that she didn’t come up with this naughty little prank by herself; somebody had to have put her up to it.
But before I found out whom, I was going to have a little fun turning this against her. I cleared the confusion from my face and replaced it with a devious grin, closing what little distance lay between us and getting up close and personal with AJ, who recoiled at the sudden movement and was now pinned between me and the headrest. I spoke in the huskiest voice I could manage and whispered into her right ear.
“Oh did I? And just how well did I perform? Did I make you scream my name in sheer ecstasy as you rode out multiple waves of pure orgasmic bliss?”
I punctuated the steamy string of questions by playfully nipping at her earlobe, drawing a sharp gasp out of the cowgirl and making her cheeks flare so red as to make her namesake look dim in comparison. She stuttered for a response but was made utterly speechless from my unexpected reaction to her facade. It might have been pushing things between us a bit far, but I exploited her stupefied state to steal a kiss that was neither long nor short. She let out a muffled noise of shock and I felt her body become extremely tense as I drew away, keeping that dastardly self satisfied expression glued to my face. It took her all of two minutes to recompose herself; she avoided my eyes as she brought herself to speak again.
“Li-listen Zenith, I-I have a confession ta make”
“Lemme guess, this whole thing was a setup?” I dryly commented, arching an eyebrow and fully channeling a monotonous drone for maximum deadpan effect.
Her jaw unhinged for a moment before she adopted a look of indignation, roughly tossing a pillow at me, “Ya knew this whole time!? Then what was all that fer!?” She huffed in frustration, “And why’d ya kiss me?” Based on her wavering tone, she couldn’t seem to decide whether to be angry or pleased about the way this shenanigan backfired.
“To see if you tasted like apples. Spoilers! You totally do. Now spill, who was the mastermind or minds behind this insidious plot to provoke some kind of embarrassed reaction out of me?”
“Why, I-I don’t know what you mean” She fibbed, not making eye contact yet again.
I sighed exasperatedly and rubbed at the temples of my forehead, my patience was not infinite, “Amusing as it is to see you try, you need to stop lying Applejack. You’re no good at it anyway”
She folded her arms together and gave me a stink eye, “And you are? Speakin’ of which, didja keep yer word and apologize to Golden yet? Or was I wrong about you?”
“These things take time AJ, although I’d say setting her up on a date with someone who seems like he genuinely cares about her is a step toward progress. And wrong about me in what way?” I asked, curious as to what Applejack really thought of me.
“A date huh? Doesn’t really sound ta me like an actual apology, more like dancin’ around the issue. And ferget I said anything, I wasn’t in my right mind to be thinkin’ of ya like that” She left the safety of the bed sheets and got up to stretch, which also gave me a nice view of her fruit themed panties.
‘Wonder if they have fruit of the loom here too’ I idly pondered; quickly looking away while AJ brazenly displayed her remarkably chiseled form, all those years of laboring in the fields having clearly paid off in spades.
Applejack took notice of my reserved reaction and called me out on it, “Why so shy alluva sudden? Ya didn’t seem ta mind earlier when you were on top of me actin’ all large and in charge” I could all but hear the grin in her voice and she touched the tips of her toes, showcasing the ample roundness of her rump. Not that I was peeking, of course.
“Despite the saucy things I told you earlier, I was raised to respect a woman’s virtue and her privacy, this is especially relevant when she’s not fully clothed” I explained, continuing to avert my eyes and grabbing a clean shirt out of my backpack to keep my vision from wandering.
“Could’ve fooled me, the way you was spoutin’ them sensuous words, I would’ve pegged you as some kinda deviant” She jokingly prodded at me.
I scoffed and put on the plain gray soft cotton tee, “You’re just jealous that I got a blush out of you and not the other way around. And furthermore, if we actually had done the dirty deed, then (if you’ll pardon the pun) I would really have to make an honest woman out of you, and someone like me is not ready to make that kind of commitment”
She stared at me with an expression that I couldn’t quite discern before grabbing her orange checkered shirt that was draped over the same nightstand where I put the replacement clock and donned it. She murmured something that I picked up just on the edges of my acute hearing as she slipped into her well-worn jeans.
“It was Rarity”
“Pardon?” I said, having heard her just fine but having some difficulty processing the answer.
“It was Rarity” She repeated, louder this time, “She’s the one who suggested I try to get you ta loosen up a bit”
“And this was her idea of doing so? Because this ‘method’ doesn’t seem quite her style” I remarked, spinning a finger in the air in reference to the whole situation.
“Nah, this particular idea was mine. Rarity would never suggest anythin’ as ‘improper’ as what I tried on you, but she didn’t exactly try and stop me either. We both jus’ wanted to see if you were really as stolid as my brother. Turns out ya ain’t, just not in the way I was expectin’”
“As I’ve told Twilight, I’m not always as serious as I look. Pushing this whole unusual wake up call aside, what’s the agenda for the day?”
She cast a funny expression my way as she fastened her boots, “Agenda? We treat Sunday as a day of rest ‘round here, no workin’ the fields, no business in the market, and nothin’ else intensive. Feel free ta take the day off Zenith, cause the rest of the week won’t be nearly as easy goin” She finished with a dark chuckle that would make a lazier person quiver in fear.
‘I can hardly wait…’
I grabbed my soiled shirt that I found hanging nearby and tossed it into a laundry hamper across the room with a swish, “I know it’s none of my business, but what do you plan to do today?” I politely pried.
“Me? Ah’m probably gonna keep an eye on Apple Bloom and her friends, make sure those three stay outta trouble. Mac’s likely still incapacitated from yesterday’s drinkin’, so he won’t be steppin foot outside of the farm, which he rarely does anyway” She gave the floor a stomp with each boot to make sure they were on tight before turning to face me, “Ya sure you ain’t upset about me tryin’ ta deceive you? And how are ya not hungover? You darn near drank enough to drown a man several times over!” She exclaimed, perplexed at my completely sober state.
“I don’t upset easily over something that I consider to be trivial. As for your other question, as it turns out, Trifects have a much higher alcohol tolerance than one would expect. Luna said hello by the way” I offhandedly mentioned as I put on my sneakers.
A rising pressure in my bladder reminded me that I still had a finite capacity for storing fluids, “You raised a good point though” I said as I speedily made a beeline for the bathroom, “Because I gotta piss like a race horse!”
Were I in the presence of more couth company; I’d be reprimanded thoroughly for such a blasé comment, but such vulgarities only elicited a laugh out of the country girl. After roughly five minutes, I emerged from the lavatory feeling significantly more refreshed, and retaining a strange sense of pride for possibly setting this world’s record for the longest tinkle. AJ had vacated the room, likely getting on with her day.
I grabbed my adventure pack and delved into its contents, rifling past Plain Sight’s hidden blades and opting to pull out the twin sacks of Arcanium shards and flawless gems instead. I tied the gem bag to my belt loop next to the munny pouch and poured the Arcanium shards onto the flat wooden surface of the other nightstand. All in all, there were fifteen shard fragments, each of various shapes and sizes but with the commonality of being honed to an edge that might as well have been microscopic, which made me wonder how the bag it was in hadn’t been split apart (I merely shrugged it off as magic, most explanations here tended to follow that course).
My hands began to glow as I reached out with my magic to encapsulate the metallic pile. Being so used to levitating normal objects left me completely unprepared for the sensation of actually feeling the metal as if it was an extension of my very being, I willed it to put itself together like a jigsaw puzzle and studied the finished result. When fully formed, Dichotomy resembled a runic sword (due to the seams conjoining the individual shards) and was about a meter in length and glowed with the same crimson aura as the magic I was channeling through it.
‘Kinda like a Forcesaber. I wonder if its as sharp’ I mused as I gave my new weapon a few practice swings, the blade gave off a gentle hum as it cleaved its way through the air effortlessly.
A third of the shards were a tad too long to be agile enough on their own, but the rest were small enough that they could make for deadly projectiles by themselves. I split Dichotomy into its individual components and examined the smaller fragments, because of their unique folding; the portions of the metals that my magic came into contact with could also theoretically be overcharged with my magic to release a small burst wave. This was of course way too hazardous to test out in the confines of the guest room, but I made a mental note to find a clear field the next chance I got. Perhaps I could get Rarity to fashion me some kind of holster or bandolier to contain the blade pieces on my person without having to keep them in a rudimentary bag by my side.
Speaking of whom, I needed to have a little chat with her about scheming with Applejack to evoke an abashed reaction out of me of all people. I did intend to do it politely though; perhaps I could even ‘convince’ her to make me a few designs of my own using my newfound bag of shinies as leverage.
‘Women love shinies right? Foolproof plan!’
I grinned to myself as I put away the pieces of my new kickass sword. I now had all the close range tools I could possibly need, but I lacked an outfit fitting enough to wear them with. I pulled out my laptop and proceeded to ‘glean’ a few ideas off the Internet and sketched the designs onto a scrap of note taking paper I had appropriated from Twilight’s endless stacks, utilizing my muscle memory spell to get the details as accurate as possible.
I made sure to include the exact measurements and everything to be doubly sure, I left the choice of material up to the expert, although I didn’t fail to specify that they were to be form fitting and functional. Rarity was no armorer, but I was all but certain that they had fabrics here that could be easily enchanted to provide some extra protection and flexibility in a heated situation. Once that was finished, I also spent the time meticulously roughing out an outline of a sheath for Dichotomy.
Once I was finished with my formulations, I folded the up the designs and placed them in my back pocket before making my way downstairs to the kitchen area to say good morning to everybody. I must have arrived a bit late though, because everyone’s plates were emptied and the only person still seated was an achy looking Big Macintosh, who was nursing a mug of coffee in one hand and massaging his forehead with the other. My plate of lukewarm food was calling my name though, so I sat down to quickly polish it off, taking extra care not to make too much noise and further aggravate Mac’s no doubt massive headache. I did feel the need to project some helpful advice though.
“Far be it from me to deprive a man of his morning pick me up, but coffee will only make that pounding in your head worst Big Red” I said between mouthfuls of delicious home cooked food.
“Hmm? How so?” The large man rumbled in reply.
“Caffeinated coffee acts as a diuretic, so it will act as a siphon and dehydrate you. Depriving your body and brain of that much needed essential fluid to hold the worst of it at bay, try drinking water instead” I humbly suggested.
He grunted, neither accepting or denying the help, “And jus’ how have you been spared? You had even more than me!” He exclaimed before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning in discomfort at his own volume.
I thought about making a witty comment about the German in me taking to the beer like an old friend, but decided against it, “I’m a hardy guy I guess” I shrugged and went back to stuffing my stomach.
I finished my meal and even took the liberty of washing it in the sink in addition to putting it away before I was set to brainstorm about how the rest of my day off was to proceed when I heard the cheery voice of Apple Bloom calling my name from the living room. Despite my misgivings about being anywhere near young girls with a penchant for getting into trouble, it would be rude to ignore her beckoning to me. So I bit the bullet and went to see what it was that she wanted of me, the unmistakable sound of someone filling their mug with Adam’s ale as I left was not lost to me.
I entered the living room to see the unmistakable sight of Apple Bloom and her other two friends crowding around a rosewood coffee table that was positively strewn with papers revealing crudely drawn ideas for ‘Mana mark acquisition’ plans. Sitting on the couch wearing charmed smiles at their childlike enthusiasm were Applejack and Twilight, the latter of which bid me welcome.
“Good morning Zenith!” She pleasantly greeted me, which I mirrored in response, minus the excess cheer.
Applejack couldn’t bring herself to look in my direction, a faint blush appeared on her cheeks sporadically, no doubt reflecting on my louche mannerisms previously. I paid it no mind whatsoever; it wasn’t like I was going to blab to her close friend about how frisky she was while she was holding me close like some kind of safety blanket. To assure her that I meant to keep what happened earlier between us confidential, I acted like nothing had occurred as I sat down in an empty rocking chair. Apple Bloom had meanwhile been whispering fervidly to her fellow bland hands and approached me with a nearly perfidious gleam in her eye that I just couldn’t abide by, childish innocence or not.
“Mornin’ Zenith!”
“Good morning Apple Bloom” I regarded her neutrally, with Twilight and Applejack slightly frowning at my aloofness.
If Apple Bloom seemed to notice my coldness, she was clearly undeterred, “Me and the other Mana Mark Maidens have been doin’ some delib- deliber” She trailed off, sounding out the word in her head.
“Deliberating?” I finished for her.
She gave me a funny look, “What are ya? A dictionary?”
“Nay, I merely possess an enhanced vocabulary and refined sense of elocution” I grandiloquently snarked in reply, curling my right hand nails and inspecting them as I did so.
‘Well spoken if I do say so myself’ A mental avatar of me with a monocle and a highball toasted in salutation.
She crooked her head to the side, her bowtie undulating in response, “So… a dictionary right?”
“I’m guessing that you and your group had some kind of proposition in mind?” I pointedly reminded her, ignoring her likening me to her two toned friend, who sat next to the purple haired one and observed me for the first time.
“Ugh, yeah! Ya see, I told the girls about you missin’ your Mana mark and we decided that we want to induct you into our organization!” She happily exclaimed, holding up both arms as if making the sign for a field goal.
I blankly stared at her for a couple seconds before doing something I had very rarely done in the past even before arriving in this world.
I laughed.
And not just those hearty chuckles that intermittently struck me but a true, deep (and somewhat foreboding) sounding bellow of laughter that shook the creaky struts of the rocking chair that I was sitting in and echoed throughout the whole of the farm house. Apple Bloom had actually jumped back at the suddenness of it all and even looked a bit frightened, gaping at me like I had finally lost my marbles, her action repeated by the others in the room. Eventually, my raucous hysterics had quieted down and I wiped a small tear from my face and flicked it to the side.
“Yeah…no” I rebuffed the girl, who blinked in confusion.
“But why not? We could help you get yer Mana mark!” She protested.
“For more than a few reasons, the most prominent being the fact that I’m just fine without a Mana mark as I’ve told you yesterday” I continued unabated, “Secondly, I could possibly have a Mana mark in invisibility and just not know it”
“But we can see you, and is that even possible? What would a Mana mark for invisibility even look like?” Sweetie Belle piped up for the first time.
“Like this” I cast the active camouflage spell on myself, becoming all but imperceptible to the unaided eye.
Everyone in the room gasped and I could see Twilight eyeing me (or the spot that I was sitting in) with intent interest. I uncloaked myself shortly thereafter, mostly to conserve my recovering pool of magical energy. I had yet to decide if the perception filter or active camo spell was more energy exhaustive. Although it was mostly conditional, the more people staring in my direction, the more energy I had to feed into a perception filter spell; while active camo was just a small but steadily constant drain.
Scootaloo gave me her input, “That. Was. Awesome…! But not as awesome as Rainbow Dash of course” She hastily amended, though I failed to see any reason why, I drank her idol under the table last night with minimum effort on my part… freakish alcohol tolerance abilities notwithstanding.
‘I wonder if I should check up on her? It would make for a good excuse to see Fluttershy again’ I idly cogitated on, roughly shaking my head against the notion. I’d feel like I was intruding, better to stay put as I am.
“That was a very impressive spell Zenith! I could only faintly detect your presence and I had to really search for it!” Twilight commended me, though instead of making me feel accomplished, it made me scowl a bit. She shouldn’t have been able to detect me at all! I’d have to tweak the spell a bit to make sure that when I dropped off the radar, I’d stay that way.
“So you actually have a Mana mark in invisibility?” Apple Bloom inquired, furrowing her brow in indecision.
“Doubt it” I curtly answered.
“Then why won’t you join us!?” She all but shouted in vexation.
“Because thirdly and perhaps most importantly, you labeled your little clique with a very gender exclusive title. As you can clearly see, I ain’t no maiden” I gestured to myself with both hands, biting down the urge to quip how her older sister knew that for a fact, successfully restraining it before it could make its way past my teeth and potentially ruin whatever geniality I had with the buxom blonde.
She slumped down to her knees in defeat, “Oh…ah guess I’d feel pretty cut off too, if I was invited to an organization for Mana marks made up of jus’ boys” Even the bowtie on top of her red head looked deflated, I may have been terrible with kids, but I wasn’t heartless.
“Listen Apple Bloom, I might not feel inclined to join you and your friend’s quest to find out what your life’s passion is, but that doesn’t mean that I’m rejecting you or your friends in the slightest. If you ever need somebody to supervise your activities or help you come up with new (‘Preferably harmless’) ways of finding your Mana marks, feel free to call upon me” I wouldn’t normally do this, but I rubbed at her head, mussing up her hair and bowtie while I was at it. Even though she pretended to be annoyed, a muffled giggle betrayed her inner feelings.
“Stop it!” She playfully swatted away my hand, before looking at me with a hopeful expression in her amber eyes, “Ya really mean that?”
I nodded, “Word for word”
She smiled and proceeded to give me a bear hug that fully exhibited her earthen strength.
“Thank ya thank ya! No one outside of my family and AJ’s friends has ever volunteered to watch over us before!”
‘Can’t imagine why…’
“Anytime” I wheezed as the little girl nearly squeezed me to death, my airways feeling painfully restricted by this point.
“Alright Apple Bloom, ya can let go’a Zenith now. He’s startin’ to turn a lil blue” AJ chuckled at my discomfort, amused to see the boot on the other foot, so to speak.
Apple Bloom complied, releasing her iron grip on me and allowing for fresh oxygen to fill my lungs anew, which I eagerly took in with greedy gulps. The tweenager with boa constrictors for arms had the good grace to look sheepish while Twilight rolled her eyes at my hammy antics.
“Hey Zenith? Why are ya sittin’ in granny’s story tellin’ chair?” Apple Bloom randomly asked.
“I am? Nobody told me” I mentioned, wondering what brought about such an offhand question.
“Well ya are” She stated, before her eyes lit up and she gasped excitedly, “Hey! Got any stories you feel like sharin’? I keep getting’ this vibe that you’ve got a lot to share with us” If only she actually knew just how much.
I rubbed at the back of my head, “I dunno, I’m not much of a story teller. Surely your dear granny Smith is the master story weaver around here” I confessed, feeling that someone more qualified could weave the same tales I could, but do it a good sight better.
“Maybe, but then it wouldn’t be you weavin’ the story now would it?” Applejack countered with a heartfelt smile. I should’ve felt flattered, the way she seemed so sincere about it.
“I concur with AJ. Besides, I wouldn’t mind hearing whatever wisdom someone as unique as you has to impart” Twilight inserted her opinion, that agog glimmer sparkling brightly in her irises. AJ and the other two Mana mark maidens just nodded in agreement, eyes focused keenly on me. I just went with the first thing that popped into my head.
“If you insist, but save your questions and or comments until after I’m finished m’kay?” They voiced uniform assent and I shifted in my seat, mentally preparing my delivery of a story that would make them think deeply.
“This story is called the end of sadness, its an unorthodox tale that I somehow remember despite having read it long ago” I took a deep breath and began my narrative.
“There was once a very rich and powerful king who ruled in a great castle and lorded over all the fields, lakes, mountains, oceans and yes; even the very world itself, such was his influence. But alas, despite this, the King was not content with all he had. He ordered his engineers to slave day and night to create for him an army of autonomous workers, robots that could farm, fish, chop wood, and do just about all of the menial labor. This led to normal people being subsequently laid off and replaced by the worker drones that could not only work harder, but also not need to be paid. In order to feed their families, the once proud workers had to resort to begging in front of the miserly King in his grand castle” At this point I had to modify the story in order to keep out the more bloody parts, “Foreseeing the inherent superiority that his machine men held over their fleshy counterparts, the King ordered his engineers to replace his natural body parts with those of a machine, until neither flesh nor bone remained. Thus solidifying his rule, he began to encourage his subjects to take after him, slowly converting his people into metal golems just like himself. It wasn’t all that bad at first, troubles like sickness and old age became a thing of the past, soon the former humans found that they could travel temporally by switching themselves off and having a buddy switch them back on at a later date. Time dragged on and ages passed, the Earth grew old while the former humans became more prone to switching themselves off for increasingly longer periods of time. Eventually the Sun itself began to swell in its old age, engulfing the planets closest to it until it finally reached and consumed the Earth itself. However, no one was there to witness this phenomenal event or do anything about it, as everyone had switched themselves off and left no one active to switch them back on.”
I paused to gauge the reactions of my audience, all of them completely drawn in and waiting for me to tell them how it ended.
“It wasn’t a sad event…since ‘sadness’ had not been a concept for quite some time” I mutedly concluded, closing my eyes for dramatic effect.
Strangely enough, Twilight was the first to speak, “Was there supposed to be some kind of moral attached to this? Because try as I might, I just can’t see it. I might even go so far as to say that there wasn’t one” Her forehead wrinkled as she mentally reviewed the story, picking it apart methodically to ascertain the heart of my fable.
“Nonsense Twilight! Everything’s got a moral, if only you can killf*ck find it” My eyes widened at the ghostlike tampering with my voice, where did that come from? I don’t think the impressionable young maidens heard me curse though, it all happened too fast.
I held a palm to my head and shook it, “I’m sorry, I had no idea what just twisted my words”
“Sorry ‘bout what? Ah didn’t hear anythin’ strange” AJ stated, befuddled by my actions. The lavender librarian next to her however, was staring at me strangely.
“I wanna know what the lesson of the story was!” Scoots shouted; ignoring the whole verbal slip up, she was fed up with waiting I guess.
“Opinions might differ, but I see it as a reminder that we shouldn’t go to such ends to augment ourselves, if it comes at the cost of our own humanity”
‘Wasn’t that the whole moral dilemma behind Deus Ex?’ I mentally noted, drawing comparisons between tales as I always did.
“So we shouldn’t turn ourselves inta machines?” Apple Bloom inferred, doing her best to make heads or tails of my short narration.
“No Apple Bloom, you shouldn’t go turning yourself into a cybernetic organism, it would take away from your adorable qualities. We can’t have that, now can we?” I wryly remarked, grinning at the endearing expression of bafflement on her face.
“The longer I know you Zenith, the more of a mystery you become” Twilight observed quietly, her tone perfectly equitable.
“So I’ve been told” I absentmindedly waved away her comment, “Anyhow, I think I’m going to go pay Rarity a visit” I ignored Applejack’s worried fidgeting and turned my attention to Sweetie Belle, “Is your sister still in the Carousel Boutique?”
Sweetie shrugged, “She should be, she didn’t tell me that she had any pressing plans for the day. Although she has been acting kinda strange lately, going on about something I couldn’t hear the details to. I think she just needs someone to inspire her again to create something ‘one of a kind’ as she calls it”
‘I suppose my timing couldn’t have been better’
“Splendid! Then I shall be off post haste! It’s ultimately best not to keep a lady waiting after all”
I got up from Granny’s rocking chair and bid farewell to everyone with a quick nod, winking at Applejack just for a good bit of fun. I pushed past the screen door and beyond a tail wagging Winona and set a course towards town, I decided to walk in order to keep a low profile to any Valkyrians who might have spotted me in the air and gotten suspicious of my true nature. Even with my brisk pace, it would still be a bit of a walk, so I popped in my ear buds and grooved to some Queen on the way there.
It was a lovely morning from the looks of things; the skies were cleared and warm rays from the Sun rained down and kissed my skin. I’m sure if I hadn’t cut off my auditory senses, I would have heard birds chirping joyfully without a care in the world. It was one of the few things I truly admired about this world; there was no sense of immediate urgency that day to day life back home sometimes instilled in you. Which usually caused most people to constantly be in motion instead of stopping for a few moments to appreciate the emergent beauty of nature and the feelings of serenity that it granted the soul.
I arrived in town after about ten minutes of meandering along the dirt road to see its denizens up and about, as was to be expected of the vibrant village. More than a few citizens recognized me from last night and waved or expressed their greetings in some other manner, I politely returned their acknowledgements to the best of my ability as I searched for the elusive and extremely feminine looking building. Remembering that Rarity’s place was disconnected from the more clustered thatch roofed buildings; I began probing the outskirts in search of that clearing that the Carousel Boutique was situated on. It didn’t take me too long to find it; the Boutique towered easily over the surrounding medieval tents and pseudo teepees that were right next door.
I was just about to enter the building when I stopped myself, if Rarity lived and did business here, did that mean that I should knock or just barge in there like it was a public store? I resorted to the modus operandi that I fond of in these circumstances and compromised on the fly. I chose to knock and wait a few seconds before officially announcing my presence in person. The gilded bell above the door jingled and alerted its owner that another potential customer had entered the store. Though, seeing as it was just myself occupying the first floor at the moment, I thought I’d observe my surroundings and make a weighted judgment about its appearance and set up.
Instead of seeing rows and rows of clothing racks, the ‘selling’ floor of the boutique was inexplicably vacant save for large vanity mirrors scattered around the edges of the store and surrounding a measuring stage in the center. Curtains with floral patterns embroidered on their extremities were suspended all about the circular chamber; I wisely decided to keep my opinion of their tackiness to myself, lest I upset their owner. The air was also vaguely reminiscent of a fragrant scent that I couldn’t quite pin down, like a mixture or aromatic flowers and fresh citrus but with a hint of a smoky texture to it, almost like a more feminized version of my favored Varvatos cologne. Somewhere in the background, slow paced classical music was being piped in from an unseen source.
Once I had my fill of the scenery, I leaned against a portion of the continuous wall and patiently awaited the arrival of the person I came to seek. Meanwhile, I reviewed several different ways I could respectfully confront her about her conspiring with AJ but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out an optimal plan to satisfy both parties. Rarity could be a bit of an actress and most likely knew the subtle art of redirecting a topic with deflection. She was also a queen of melodrama, which was something I never particularly cared for or liked about her character. But like it or not, I needed this woman’s impeccable skills as a seamstress in order to craft me a badass set of robes that were both multifunctional and fashionable. Which was why I intended to butter her up with her pick of any gems I recovered from my activities last night.
The sound of low-heeled shoes clacking against the stairs notified me that the time for mulling was over. Indeed, Rarity had finally arrived to attend to her clientele. She wasn’t wearing anything terrifically flashy, instead opting for a black business skirt and white dress shirt that didn’t fail to accentuate the fair amount of cleavage she had going on. She also had a pair of those ludicrous half moon reading glasses (that deserved to stay in the fifties where they belonged) resting on the bridge of her nose. She sunk into that friendly business tone that someone always uses when they want to flatter you into buying something while she greeted me.
“A valued customer! Welcome to the Carousel Boutique where every garment is chic-” She stopped her introduction when she finally saw that it was me, “Zenith! How marvelous of you to finally take up my offer, come come”
She ushered me over to the central stand before I could so much as utter a peep. Magicking over a roll of flexible measuring tape, she proceeded to stay true to her word and began mumbling to herself as she wrapped the tape over several sections of my body, occasionally asking me to do things like lift an arm or twist in place. Despite the fact that she could have her magic do it for her, she personally went through the effort of evaluating my dimensions. It reminded me of the times that my mother used me as a reference for her own seamstressing hobby, except I was turned into a human pin cushion far too many times for my taste; turning me off to the whole ‘sewing’ thing entirely. This instance didn’t take too long however, a little over a minute I think. When she was finished, Rarity engaged me in casual conversation, though the subject she started out with was anything but.
“Sleep well Zenith? With the absurd amounts of Applejack’s inventory you partook of, I imagine that you must've slept like a babe”
“Slept fine, waking up next to AJ was a little awkward, but other than that I felt very well rested”
She gasped and held a hand to her lips in mock surprise, though it would sound real to anyone who didn’t know her mannerisms, “Why I am appalled! How scandalous it must be for a Prince to unknowingly have a tryst with one of the Element bearers no less!” She exclaimed, already she was grating on my nerves and it hadn’t even been five minutes.
“Yeah, real surprising” I deadpanned, “Especially once I found out that you had a hand in that whole sordid affair, admitted to me from the Element of Honesty herself”
“Oouh! I knew I couldn’t trust that loose lipped hayseed to keep herself composed” Rarity seethed once she knew that the secret was out.
She huffed, “Perhaps I might have had something to do with that, but it was with your best interests in mind darling!” She insisted, my expression telling her that I clearly didn’t believe it.
“Surely there’s more to it than that, just tell me Rarity, I’m not really one to judge unfairly” After a moment’s thought, her expression went from coy to dead serious.
“It’s very simple darling, I want to find out what kind of man you are” She punctuated her statement by poking me in the chest with a painted nail, “I want to see how you would react if such a situation did indeed happen, would you throw her aside like a used piece of rubbish, as was the case with all of the numerous bed warmers to a certain other Prince who’s name shall not be mentioned? Or would you be noble, and accept her with open arms despite her common bloodline, loving her as a woman deserves to be loved?” From the passionate way she was describing it, I would assume that ‘Applejack’ was being used as a placeholder for herself.
She stared me down intensely, eyeing me for the slightest traces of deceit as she awaited my answer. I did the only thing I could to get her off my back, I spoke from the heart, “The only time I would engage in a relationship with a woman is if I think she’s marriage material” I kept silent about my inherent discomfort with the idea of being married to more than one woman, “It doesn’t matter to me if she be of low hierarchical birth. Real love is unconditional; it overlooks all faults and even accepts them in most cases. If I was in love with a woman, I would cherish her in the highest and I’d make sure that she knew it too!”
Rarity beamed, satisfied with my honest answer, “I’m very glad to hear that Zenith”
“You shouldn’t lump me together with your ideal images of Princes anyway, Blueblood is a supercilious snob and Shining Armor is all strait-laced business mannered about maintaining order in the Krystal Kingdom. I’m rather anomalous as far as Royalty goes, I haven’t even been officially coroneted yet!”
“Don’t you mean coronated dearie?”
“Nope, coroneted. I would be officially recognized as a Prince of Arcania, but I wouldn’t have any kind of serious responsibilities loaded onto my shoulders. Which is understandable, since I’m still adjusting to this new lifestyle anyway” Ain’t that the truth.
“You never did tell us about your origins, did you hail from Vanclover, Shady Hollow or even the metropolis of Steelhatten?” Rarity snooped, eager to know more about me.
“Perhaps I’ll reveal more about myself when the other Elements are there to hear it, until then, you’ll just have to be placated knowing that I’m not from any of those places”
“That’s fair enough I suppose, the mystery of it all just adds to your exemplary charm” She flashed me a brilliant smile, people here must really have a good dentist to have such pearly whites. Unbidden, the image of a woman with toothpaste for hair wearing a maniacal (but sparkly) smile and brandishing a nasty looking drill while happily chirping about how overdue I was for a dual root canal popped into my head, making me shudder involuntarily.
‘Note to self, stay the hell away from the dentist. I don’t care how cute she is! You can’t trust somebody with the gall to casually engage in frivolous conversation whilst torturing you at the same time in any universe!’
“Something wrong Zenith? You looked…elsewhere for a moment” Rarity said worriedly.
“Just fine miss Rarity. Out of curiosity, dental check ups aren’t mandatory here are they?” I inquired hopefully.
“I shouldn’t think that they were, Minuette does like to pressure people into signing up for free cleanings though” The indigo haired beauty mused on the side.
‘I knew it! She’s clearly evil’
“Why do you ask?”
“So I know who I should avoid in the future”
“You don’t have an irrational fear of poor Minuette do you? All she cares about is that your smile is happy and healthy”
I cocked a brow, “Kinda wasted on me don’t you think?”
She looked shocked, “Why Zenith! Are you implying that you’re unhappy?” She stared into my soul with genuine concern reflected in her eyes.
I looked off to the side, refusing to meet her gaze any longer, “That’s a loaded question Rarity, one which I don’t even know the answer to. We’re getting off topic anyway, do you take requests?” I steered the conversation away from me, making my tone clear that there was no room for argument.
She looked like she wanted to protest against her worry being so callously dismissed, but one look at me swiftly silenced her grievance. She blew away lock of hair that had somehow broken free from her meticulously maintained coiffure and sighed in begrudging acceptance.
“Of course I do, follow me please”
I obeyed and we climbed the small set of stairs leading up to the second floor and into a hallway with multiple entrances leading into sets of smaller rooms, one of which was the kitchen area. We reached what must have been Rarity’s idea room, evidenced by the many rolls of fabrics and sewing spools that were haphazardly strewn about the floor. There were also a few clothing racks on the side with some snazzy looking dresses hanging from them.
“Never mind the mess darling, it occasionally looks like this whenever I suffer a lack of inspirational flow” Rarity excused, her hands lighting up with a bluish glow as the pigsty began to reorganize itself from a cluttered mess of organized chaos into an ordered structure of sewing supplies.
‘A certain chaos loving bureaucrat does not approve’
Once Rarity was finished, she turned to me, “Now what was it that you had in mind Zenith?”
I fished the papers detailing the robes and fragment holster out of my back pockets and unfolded them before handing it to her. She snatched the designs out of my hand and began reviewing them in earnest.
“These are certainly a welcome change of pace from that rather…casual attire of yours. These are more intricate than I would have suspected despite their unassuming simplicity, although this crude harness is a strange way to compliment such graceful robes” I modeled them after the armor of Altair, they were meant to be as tactically professional as they were sophisticated.
She hummed thoughtfully to herself as a grin began to grow across her face, “Yes, I think I shall quite enjoy putting this sui generis ensemble of yours together. Is there a specific date that you want it finished?”
“As soon as you are able to make them is good enough for me” I placidly answered, not wanting to rush the woman into anything.
“Once I’ve gathered the materials suitable enough to do such an outfit justice, I’ll start work right away…” She trailed off as she remembered something important, “Would it be terribly discommoding if I were to ask you a favor?”
“Ask and I’ll consider it” I shrugged in reply.
She bit her bottom lip as if slightly ashamed of something, “You see, Fluttershy recently informed me during our weekly get together at the spa that she was going to be out of town for a errand of sorts next week. She asked me if I might be able to housesit for her while she was away. And being the good friend I am, I agreed without making sure it didn’t conflict with my schedule, which it unfortunately does. Do you think that you might be able take my place instead?” She pleaded with a coquettish simper, using her feminine wiles to coerce me into agreeing no doubt. I would have refused based on that trickery alone, but this was Fluttershy we were talking about, so I overlooked it.
“Sure” I tersely agreed, it’s not like I had anything demanding my time after my week working with the Apples was over.
Her eyes lit up with barely contained glee, “You would!? That’s simply grand! Now I don’t have to worry about juggling my work orders and obligations to dearest Fluttershy” She hugged me, “Thank you so much darling, you have no idea how much this means!”
I rolled my eyes at her extravagant display of gratitude, “You’re welcome. Just do your best to resist ‘dazzling’ my robes, no unnecessary flair or extra additions to my original designs if they don’t serve a purpose beyond aesthetics”
She nodded, “Very well Zenith, I will abide by your wishes”
“There is the small matter of payment that we must discuss” I introduced, knowing that I was either going to get a discount or have the fee waived.
Turns out that it was going to be the latter, “Consider the inspiration that I’ll receive working with your robes payment enough, I already have over a dozen new ideas for men’s formal wear that will incorporate your outfit’s embellishments”
“How generous of you” I dryly observed.
She tittered at the flat way I expressed it, causing her sizable mammeries to jiggle in a hypnotizing way, “You could say that I’m famous for it, darling”
“That’s not the only thing that generous about you” I absentmindedly spoke out loud.
“What was that darling?” She narrowed her vision at my foolish remark.
Thinking fast, I used my magic to grab one of the dresses on the rack and looked appraisingly at its price tag, “I mean, just look at this wonderful dress! It’s fit for the pickiest Concordian noblewoman and it’s not even half as expensive, how in the world do you stay afloat?”
“Yes, well… I manage” She backed down at my explanation, once more I was thankful that my static face revealed nothing. I went for the double whammy just to be on the safe side.
“Such beneficence won’t go unrewarded, and I just so happened to notice that your stores of decorative gems are looking a little slim” I gestured to an open case on her sewing table that was only half full at best. I unlashed the bag of gems from my side and handed them over to Rarity, whose eyes widened once they beheld its contents.
“There must be dozens of priceless stones in here, Starfire emeralds, flawlessly cut tourmalines, there’s even smaller versions of the fire ruby that my precious Spikey Wikey gave to me. I couldn’t possibly accept this!” She thrust the bag back into my hands, although that spark in her eye told me that she was tempted to keep them.
I held them back out to her, calmly assuring her that it was fine, but she resisted wholeheartedly. Eventually I got fed up with it and I placed her into a cunning word trap where she’d either have to accept or bring shame to her Element.
“Lady Rarity…be generous to me, and allow me to be generous to you” It was either accept my gift, or risk hurting my poor feelings.
‘We have those?’
‘Shut up brain’
She sputtered for a response before giving me a ladylike ‘hmmph!’ and resentfully relieving me of the shinies. Despite her act, I’ve never seen someone so elated to be coerced into taking free gemstones.
“Very well, I’ll accept your gift. But I’ll have you know that it’s very unbefitting of a gentleman to bypass a lady’s sense of principle by exploiting her reputation” She thumbed her nose at me, attempting to make me feel ashamed. But apathy is practically my middle name, so needless to say that it failed miserably.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but sacrifices must be made in the name of art. And your works are nothing short of that, believe me” From the heavy blush blossoming on her cheeks, I’d say that flattery could get me anywhere with this woman.
“I believe my business here is concluded, both parties have been thoroughly satisfied, and I’ve got an entire Sunday afternoon to enjoy” I gave her a quick bow, “Fare thee well Rarity, I wish you the best in your fashion enterprising”
“Thank you for your support, don’t be a stranger though! My doors are always open” She curtsied in response.
⁂
And with that, I left Rarity’s Carousel Boutique to find something to keep me occupied, wandering aimlessly about the outskirts of town. I was just about to give up and go back to my guest room to mess around on the Internet when I spotted a most peculiar sight, out in the open graveled clearing was a string of old school arcade machines just begging to be played. It wasn’t terribly crowded either, only about half a dozen younger boys basking in the analog glory. I didn’t even know that gaming systems existed here and I was too excited to really pay the implications any mind, sprinting towards the nearest machine to read the title on the placard instead. It was some kind of knock off of the Dig Dug game titled ‘Dig Dog’ I fished out a blank bit from my munny pouch and sat my keister down on the wooden stool to begin a hardcore gaming spree, inserting the coin to hear that almost musical clinking noise.
It was pretty much a carbon copy of the actual Dig Dug game; only it portrayed an anthropomorphic dog with a shovel and a tire pump instead. I played about five levels of that until I got bored of repetitively overinflating crude two dimensional dirt monsters and quit out, moving onto the next machine that caught my eye. I found the distraction that would eat up the next two hours of my time in the form of a Galaga rip-off named ‘Aeronautica’, which pitted the eponymous wooden Skyship against waves and waves of enemy vessels. Bow chasers served as the primary attack button while a mortar blast acted as the secondary special attack. The high score was an impressive number, but I was an expert at this child’s play, blasting my way through an endless armada of enemy ships until I had reached the bonus boss level (A fortress in the sky that shot out cannonballs in a helical pattern that was challenging, but not impossible for me to weave between patterns). My fingers danced along the dashboard while I carefully maneuvered my agile vessel around hostile fire using the joystick and near faultless hand eye coordination.
I continued to hammer away at the enemy floating fortress with mortar shells that I had been using conservatively up to that point until the stubborn bulwark was sent crashing to the pixelated Earth in a burning wreck of demolished stone and woodwork. It congratulated me on getting the new high score and directed me to a names screen; I entered my actual initials into a golden slot that was just above someone named Button Mash.
“Hey! How did you demolish my high score!?” A buzzy and extremely obnoxious sounding voice demanded from behind me.
“Isn’t the answer simple? Skill” I answered without turning around, Button Mash was not one to be ignored though.
“But I spent days getting my score that high! You just show up out of nowhere and get top marks without so much as breaking a sweat!” He exclaimed with utter disbelief.
“Don’t feel bad kid, I been at this longer than you’ve been alive” It technically wasn’t bragging if it was the truth.
‘Saying that makes me feel older than I’ve a right to be though’
“You think you’re so hot? I challenge you to a console war!” He declared, only then did I turn around to face him. He was a tween, roughly the same age as the Mana mark maidens, only he was wearing a propeller hat over his brownish hair that had a visor shielding his equally brown eyes from the glare of the sun. For some reason, I kept getting an Ash Ketchum vibe from him, maybe because of his competitiveness or maybe because I kept imagining him spinning the visor around whenever he threw down.
“Well?” He said impatiently, folding his arms, “You in? Or are ya chicken?”
‘Did he just liken me to Scoots? Oh it is SO on!’
I grinned like a shark about to devour a guppy, “I’m game. What did you have in mind?”
“All these other games are alright, but I’ve got more than a few actual console games at home that I know I can whup you in!” He began walking away before slowly and dramatically turning his head, “Follow me… if you dare”
I resisted the urge to face palm at how utterly ridiculous he was acting, but accompanied him anyway. Several times he looked like he wanted to engage in casual discourse (mostly likely about video games) but promptly reminded himself out loud that I was a rival and nothing more.
‘If he so much as thinks of calling me Gary, Ima strangle a kid’
I began to whistle-hum the mortal combat theme song to get my mind off of my more violent thoughts as we walked through the center of town towards one of the many ‘fachwerk’ style thatched roofed homes that made of the majority of buildings in Magiville. Thinking in the mean time about how hard Button Mash was about to get Pwned underscore banana’d by the Arcade sensei himself.
Button swung open the door to his home and loudly announced his presence, “Mom, I’m back early!”
A voice sweeter than honey called back, “That’s wonderful my little cuddle-button!”
“Mom! Not in front of my rival!” Cuddle-button whined, cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“I went through the same deal kid, let mom’s keep their affectionate pet names, it makes them happy” I contributed, feeling a slight twinge at how close all this hit to home.
“But I’m not a little kid anymore! I’m a big boy!” He pouted, scuffing his shoe against the wooden flooring.
‘Another family that wears shoes in the house? Is that the common trend around here?’ I groused, this was one of the few nitpicks that bothered me, not only was it unclean, but my sweltering feet have been screaming for the feel of fresh carpeting for some time now.
“A rival you say? Is it that cute girl from your class?” Button’s mom, prodded at her son from a distance, knowing the flustered reaction it would elicit.
“Wha…NO! Just the guy who trampled all over my high score in Aeronautica!”
I half expected her to reprimand her son for bringing a complete stranger home, but Button’s mom was very inviting, “Well come to the kitchen then, introduce me to this rival of yours!” It never ceased to astound me just how trusting people in this land were.
“But I want to thrash him in Bronco busters three nooooow!” He complained, drawing out the last word like a juvenile.
“I baked fresh cookies!” She proffered, the tone in her voice was assured; clearly this was Button’s kryptonite.
I wasn’t mistaken, “Really!? C’mon, mom’s cookies are the best!”
He grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me through the hallway and into the kitchen. Standing bent over the open oven and pulling out a tray of the crumbly confections with an old fashioned pair of mitts was undoubtedly the most striking middle age woman I had ever seen. She was wearing her hair in a wound down ponytail that was oddly fitting for the foxy housewife, she smiled graciously at our arrival as Button let go of my arm and made straight for the platter of cookies on the round dining table.
“Hello, you’re more… mature than most friends Button brings over to play with, but that’s fine. Help yourself to some cookies! I made a set of gluten free oatmeal squares in case you’re the health minded type” She wavered the tray she was carrying for emphasis.
‘Gluten free Oatmeal? Are you crazy!?’
“That’s quite alright, I’m watching my sweets intake in anticipation for my inevitable sugar session spent with Pinkie Pie” It was a bit bold of me to be making predictions, but the chances were quite likely that I’d be spending time with the hot pink party girl eventually.
“You know Pinkie? She threw us the most wonderful house warming party when we first moved here” She merrily reminisced.
“I’m pretty sure that living here and Pinkie Pie throwing you a party are compulsory, and who doesn’t?” I chuckled, watching Button messily stuff his face with mouthfuls of chocolate chip. His mother gently chided him for his uncivilized table manners, especially in front of guests. She removed her mitts and revealed her Mana mark, which consisted of a light pink Valentine heart next to a half filled bottle of baby formula.
She offered me a dainty hand, which I shook softly, “My name’s Tender Love, may I ask yours?”
“Call me Zenith, I’m a relatively recent addition to this fair town. Can’t help but notice what a cozy home it is you’ve cultivated here” I dispensed with the pleasantries.
“Well thank you! I do my best to make sure that all three of my boys can look forward to coming back to a comfortable abode” A family photo hanging on the refrigerator revealed that her three boys were her husband and two sons, meaning that this was one of those atypical nuclear families.
Button moaned in contentment as he finished scarfing down his fill of the cookies, “Oh man…that hit the spot, you just have to try one! Then we can get straight to the gaming!”
“If you insist” I plucked a tasty morsel from the fruits of Tender Love’s labor and was about to pop it in my mouth when she interrupted.
“Could I get you a refreshment to wash that down with?” She politely offered.
“Sure, I’d like a glass of Milf… I mean milk please!” I hastily corrected myself, mentally slapping myself for such a monumental slip up. To my endless relief, that acronym didn’t seem to exist here, because my dirty faux pas went unnoticed by the hot mom who was currently pouring me a drink.
‘Straight from the tap would be exquisite’ My prurient side added.
‘Really brain? No….just…no’
The cookie was adequate as far as flavor went, but I could tell that the main ingredient was the love of a caring mom. I probably would have a few sentimental tears rolling down my face right then if it weren’t for my airtight mental conditioning. Once I finished my snack, Button began nudging me up the stairs and towards what I assumed to be his room. Button’s room was furnished with shelves and bookcases containing what looked like rows of strategy guides, a medium sized vanity mirror, and a gaming system with a television sized screen placed atop a set of drawers. Button immediately switched it on and put on his best game face (no pun intended) as he grabbed a pair of square controllers that were the splitting image of the NES ones (save for the dual bumpers on the front).
“You ready to get your clock cleaned? Cause nobody can get the better of me in Bronco busters three!”
“What’s the objective here?” I asked, ignoring his bluster.
He didn’t grace me with an applicable answer, “Don’t go noob on me now!”
“Humor me”
He groaned, “The goal of the game is tame a wild Stallion by timing your button presses correctly, you miss so much as one cue and you get bucked off. Whoever holds on the longest wins!” He explained.
“Okay, you go first then” He obliged me with a cocksure grin.
The round started off with a pixelated cowboy sneaking up on a grazing Stallion before mounting him, a series of directional arrows and letters appearing on the screen that Button rapidly Mashed (pun very much intended) while holding his controller sideways. Don’t know why he bothered though, it’s not like it was a legitimate technique. Eventually Button missed a tricky looking combination and was tossed off, earning a time of a minute and a half.
“Ha! Beat that” He slid the second controller towards me.
I was about to teach this kid a lesson in humility and knock him off his high horse (pun also intended), casting the muscle memory spell on myself when Button wasn’t watching just to be certain. My character approached a midnight black Stallion that made Button chuckle menacingly for some reason. I put myself on high alert; this was beginning to look like a mini boss stage. As soon as I mounted the horse, a flurry of directions were prompted on the screen, my fingers moved automatically as the spell did its work.
Despite how well I was doing, Button kept that smarmy looking grin stuck on his face, warning me to keep my guard up. Just as I was about to reach the minute and fifteen seconds mark, I was unexpectedly told to hold the controller sideways and shake it, I reacted accordingly and my character finally managed to tire the Stallion, which sunk down to its haunches in exhaustion. I received a bonus time of thirty seconds for breaking in the steed, putting myself ahead of Button by a full fifteen seconds.
“Whaaat!? How did you see that coming? All of my other friends always get tripped up by that”
“It’s all in the reflexes kid” I explained with a smirk, my nickname for him only agitating him further.
He pouted, visibly upset “Grr! Next game now!” He swapped out the cartridge and inserted another one, when nothing happened; he pulled it out and blew into the grooves before reinsertion, this time the system worked and we were directed to the screen of ‘Fighting Frogs’ which I’m guessing was this world’s version of Battletoads.
‘God, this is like a trip down memory lane for me’ The sense of nostalgia was exceptionally thick this Sunday afternoon.
This game was no slouch; I nearly bought the farm during the violent and unpredictably random stage of the barrage burrow. I gave helpful hints when it was Button’s turn to get his pixel ass handed to him, which he actually seemed to appreciate, ‘ohing’ and ‘awing’ when he finally figured out the proper technique and surpassed his own previous scores.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask” He said as he kept his eyes glued to the screen, “What’s a Milf?”
I blinked, not prepared for the sudden age contextual question, “Have somebody explain it to you when you’re like, five years older. Because that is a can of worms that I do not want to open”
He blew out a frustrated puff of air, “That’s basically what my parents told me after I caught them wrestling together that one day I came back from school early”
‘Wow…awkward’
“I did manage to swipe this magnificent mustache that my dad dropped while they were washing up in the bathroom though” He reached into his short’s pocket and put on the attachable mustache, grinning at me to see my reaction.
‘Button’s dad owns an adhesive porn stache?’ I stopped myself before I could think about the implications any further, even if they starred Tender Love.
“That’s uhm…neat. Don’t let your mom catch you wearing that okay?” I cautiously forewarned him, he stared confusedly at me before shrugging noncommittally.
After another five uncannily familiar games (I clandestinely threw a couple games so I wouldn’t upset the uppity tween too much) and a realization that we had reached a total stalemate in our little competition, it was decided that the contest was a draw. Button dramatically conceded that I was a worthy opponent and pleaded for my aid in co-oping an incredibly difficult game that reminded me of a cross between Ghosts and Goblins and Contra named ‘Doom Lords’. Button went with the roguish archer and I selected the winged mage for obvious reasons. It took quite a few lives and another hour of grinding through the stages, but we managed to defeat the aptly named Doom Lords using a mysterious spell that my character discovered called ‘Konami’s ascension’. Utilizing the spell transformed my character and Button’s into beings of pure light that had all stats multiplied by ten, allowing us to soundly trounce the once fearsome bosses in an Epic clash of good and evil.
“Heck yeah! I’ve been trying to beat this game for ages!” He turned to me with glassy eyes that threatened to shed tears of happiness (although the porn stache kind of ruined the mood), “And I couldn’t have done it without you”
He hugged me, the sudden physical closeness giving me a start, “You can be my P2 anytime”
I hesitantly returned the little guy’s embrace, awkwardly patting him on the back since I was wholly unaccustomed to these situations. By now, Celestia’s Sun was beginning to set on the peaceful town of Magiville in order to make room in the sky for Luna’s namesake, I had no intention of staying here any longer than I had to and I let Button know as much. He protested at first but gradually relented once I informed him that I had a long week of travailing ahead of me at Sweet Apple Acres. I stealthily made my way down the stairs and past Button’s older brother and father, who were both enjoying their dinner alongside Tender Love in the kitchen. I presumed that they would figure I was a busy guy and couldn’t stick around for more long winded introductions. If not, well, it wasn’t like I was going to be visiting this family again for the foreseeable future.
⁂
I lightly shut the door behind me and was about to get airborne when I remember that people were still up and about, the chances of me being spotted by one of last night’s partygoers with my wings out was too great of a risk to take. So I had to make the rest of my way back to the farm on foot, trudging angrily through town, it took me a few minutes to realize that I had no idea which direction was which. This small problem left me stranded in the town until I could properly get my bearings, there was no way I was going to ask for directions again after yesterday’s tiny episode with the fearful flower trio.
All my aimless wandering did allow me to see a remarkably well cleaned up Gizmo proudly escorting his rather unenthusiastic looking date in the direction of what I assumed was the ‘Three Leaf Clover’ restaurant that he heard good things about. Even though I didn’t really care for his date much, I wished both of them the best, keeping to the background as to not disturb them. I was about to rage quit with my current course of action and just teleport to the edges of town so I could grab some air when I felt the faintest pulse of a repetitive beat, vexation was replaced by inquisitiveness and I followed my ears until the faint beat became more of a steady thumping rumble that only increased my interest.
I turned a corner around a set of shops with closed signs hung over their windows and came across a slightly larger building that was about thrice the size of the usual residences. I spotted the occasional flock of people giggling and chattering excitedly amongst themselves as they pushed their way past the large entry doors of ‘The Asphodel fields’, the muffled sounds briefly being heard full blast for a small moment as the entryway doors quickly closed again. I knew that if I entered this building, I was bound to burn even more hours until it was well into the night. I shrugged to myself and essentially Yolo’ed it, making my humble entrance into the nightclub.
Unsurprisingly, the first thing to grace my senses was a pounding bass that was so deep that I felt it in my bones. There was no entrance lobby or anything as roundabout as that, as soon as one passed through those doors, they were just another soul looking to get lost in the music of the Asphodel fields. It was a fairly standard setup, there was a large dance floor in the middle that was occupied by dozens of people, leather sofas and booths with tabletops lined the edges and there was bar on the right hand side serving up drinks to anyone looking to add a little inebriated fun to their evening. The decorations were pretty unique though; a field of the titular Asphodels grew out from the ceiling and illuminated everything with the blue white neon glow of their stamens. Long, raindrop shaped multicolored lamps lit up anything that the oddly bioluminescent flowers couldn’t. Above the strangely vacant DJ’s setup were spotlights that moved in sync with the music, which was a tasteful blend of electronic and straight up dub-step.
Tempted as I was to bust a move on the floor, it was a bit too crowded for my tastes. So after an hour or three of standing on the sidelines people watching and appreciating the music, I decided to take a seat at the relatively unoccupied bar and pester the barkeep for a glass of diet water; he just gave me a blank stare for a full ten seconds and went back to cleaning some mugs with a cloth. I muttered something to myself about the lousy service when I felt the unmistakable presence of someone grabbing a stool next to me. I didn’t pay it any mind at first, but I knew that the person sitting next to me was observing me. I wanted to ask them what it was they wanted, but the surrounding noise would be too loud for my words to be heard anyway. As if reading my thoughts however, I felt a magical bubble encapsulate us and the loudness of the music was dimmed to a low thrumming.
“So pretty boy…do you like it fast, or slow?” A familiar tomboyish voice suggestively asked of me, I glanced to the side to see the one and only Vinyl Scratch leaning forward so far that her backside was fully exposed, revealing the crimson color of the thong she was wearing. It did compliment her breathtakingly gorgeous eyes though, which were gazing upon me with vague amusement.
I played it cool, rolling my neck to elicit a few crackling pops, “Make’s no difference to me, as long as it’s enjoyable and has a steady rhythm” I really wished that the bartender had given me a drink, cause then I could have taken a swig and upped my classy charm by five.
Vinyl didn’t seem to mind though, letting out a hearty chuckle, “So what brings Magiville’s latest arrival to my crib?” She made a motion to the barkeep, who slid her a cocktail served up in a fancy looking glass. He also had the good grace to toss me one too, I couldn’t really do much with it, but it was the thought that counts.
“The siren sound of a bass being dropped, you live here?”
“You bet I do, innovating new tunes by day and raving it up by night” She sighed contently, “I wouldn’t have it any other way”
“Sounds like the life” I appraisingly nodded, “Why talk to me though? I’m just another face in the crowd in the grand scheme of things” That wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t need to know that.
She swayed in her seat to an invisible beat only she could hear as she mulled it over, “A few reasons, because I’m curious about the music you have on that showy device of yours, because you looked all mopey and sad sitting here by your lonesome, and partly because I haven’t spoken to another redeye in forever!” She grinned at me.
“Huh, well for the most part, I feel flattered” I said as I sipped at my drink, “How come you’re leaving your equipment unattended? Is it set on an automatic playlist or something?” I looked over my shoulder and past the capering crowds to confirm that it was indeed still empty.
“Nope, I have it set to the natural frequency of my magic. I’m technically mixing it up right now” To illustrate her point, her hands glowed and the fast paced track melded into a new more mellow one.
“Impressive, to say the least” I complimented, doing my best to feign being actually impressed.
“Yeah, I’m awesome like that” She leaned back in her seat and put both hands on the back of her head.
“Since when did Rainbow Dash dye her hair electric blue and get herself a pair of purple shades?” I jested, finishing off the last of my drink.
“Please, that airhead is way too full of herself to have the distinction of being awesome exclusively to herself”
“You go girl! I was beginning to think she had some kind of bombastic monopoly” I dryly commented as I levitated the empty glass over to the barkeep.
“So about that device of yours…” She trailed off, a type of hunger not at all dissimilar to Twilight’s gleaming in her ruby eyes.
“The one in my pocket? The kind that has hundreds of tracks inside that might as well have been tailored specifically with you in mind? What about it?”
She groaned and put her face in her hands, “You’re not going to make me beg are you? Is that your kink? Putting hard working girls like me down on their knees and completely at your mercy?” She looked back up with an incorrigible smile, “Because I would totally do that if it meant an hour alone with that music player”
I opted for trading risqué insinuations with her, “Nah, my kinks involve transparent Sarong skirts and a shit ton of strawberry jelly” I let her keep her horrified expression before deadpanning, “That was a joke”
She held her hands up in mock surrender, “I’m not one to judge! So you’ll really let me borrow that device of yours?”
I fished out my IPod from my pocket and tentatively handed it over to her, pulling back just as she was about to grab it, “This is one of the few reminders of home that I possess, treat it with the utmost care. Or I will be most…displeased” I finally let her have it.
She energetically shook her head, “Gotcha, I’ll take care of it like it was my own two babies right over there!” I didn’t bother looking; I knew she was talking about her prized stereo system.
“Speaking of which, what kind of output do they have?” I asked, curious about her bass cannons.
She dismissively wagged a hand, “I won’t bore you with the specifics, and I’d say the results speak for themselves anyway”
“They powerful enough to blow a woman’s clothes off?” I cocked a brow.
“What?” She responded blankly.
“Never mind, that’s an Italian job reference” I supposed she deserved to also hear about a certain cellist, “You know, it’s funny, Octavia shared a similar kind of enthusiasm for my ITunes classical list” I mentioned off hand.
Her eyes widened and she grabbed and rocked me rather vigorously for a Stellar Mage, “You know Octy!? Why didn’t you tell me!?” She demanded, gradually letting me go after a few seconds of shaking.
I shook my head to clear it of the fuzzies, “You didn’t ask”
“Oh man, I haven’t heard from her in ages! What’s she been up to all these years?” From the sound of it, Vinyl really missed her old academy roommate.
‘Probably avoiding you and your Kung Fu grip of death’ I cynically mused.
“Not much, she has a decent position in the Royal Orchestra and occasionally moonlights at a jazz club filled with ostentatious rich people” I glanced at a clock suspended above the bar and noticed that it was getting pretty late.
“I’ve got an early start to look forward to in the morning, so I need to go. I guess I’ll see you around Vinny. Start off your musical reviewing with Deadmaus, you won’t regret it!” She seemed disheartened by my departure, wanting to know more about Octavia, but amicably saw me off with a friendly wave.
Not much to say after that, it was finally dark enough that I could sneak myself into the air and using the city of Concordia hanging off the mountain in the distance as a reference point for North. From there I made a southwest heading towards the Farm and just in time for a late supper with the Apple family. Little Apple Bloom asked me about my day after telling me about all the activities they tried (under Applejack’s strict supervision) to earn their evasive Mana marks. I shrugged, and told her that as far as most restful Sunday’s went, it was fairly fulfilling. Big Red actually thanked me for the advice I gave him this morning about using water to flush away most of the hangover headache. Applejack had finally gotten over whatever skittishness she had around me; only to happily list off all the things I would be ‘assisting’ with for that week. From the dastardly smile on her face, I’d say that she personally wrote what was beginning to sound more and more like the chore checklist from hell.
I sighed…looks like it was going to be a long week.
This past week has been a real ass kicker. Between waking up at ungodly hours of the pre dawn morning and harvesting countless fields of apple trees, I was being worked for all I was worth. Did you know that Sweet Apple Acres actually has gems hidden scattered beneath its fertile soil? Because I didn’t, not until we had to uproot a tree that had been lost to termites using a couple rods of dynamite appropriated from the storage shed. The Apples cared for their trees so much that we actually held a eulogy for poor ‘Bloomdale’, complete with heartfelt tears and sobs from the whole family as we buried what was left (I managed to disguise my chortles as stifled blubbering). Once AJ had finally realized that my Trifect stamina enabled me to be thrice as quick and efficient than the average agrarian, she didn’t hesitate to capitalize on it and add even more to my list of chores around the farm.
It wasn’t just apples that the Apple family cultivated either, they also had a few fields dedicated to other food crops like corn and wheat that they made me attend to, as well as a modest herd of bovines that were to be milked for dairy production (I discovered that there are roughly a hundred udder squirts per one gallon bucket of unpasteurized milk). The act of Cattle herding itself alongside Winona was a lot more fun than I initially expected (disregarding a minor mishap that almost caused them to stampede into a nearby lake). It wasn’t really a surprise in retrospect; I had known beforehand that Sweet Apple Acres was a fully fledged farm that just heavily specialized in its namesake. It didn’t do much to soothe my mind when I had to use a freakin’ washboard and clothesline clips to sterilize and dry my clothes, not everything was better when it was simple.
Still despite the fact that I was being worked to the bone doing all sorts of repetitive things, I could finally see why some people would prefer to have this lifestyle. Farm life was straightforward, it was very peaceful, and the incredibly delicious meals that Granny Smith cooked up for us were a nice plus. It wasn’t all work and no play however, there were several occasions where I was able to volunteer to supervise Apple Bloom and her energetic friends during their activities (though that could technically be considered working).
I had to shoot down multiple ideas of theirs that I deemed well beyond the realm of reason (this was made a great deal easier with my inherent immunity to the infamous puppy dog eyes the MMMaidens tried to persuade me with). Regardless of how cool it sounded at first, ‘Mana Mark Siege Warfare experts’ was just a recipe for disaster. Though it was admittedly impressive to see them put together a half completed trebuchet with only a short consultation of some obscure historical manuscript they had ‘borrowed’ from Twilight’s treebrary and some donated pine wood from a lumberyard based in White Tail woods.
When incessant pleading to let them have free reign in discovering their special talents didn’t work, they tried giving me the guilt trip and cold shoulder treatment. Only for it to have no visible effect whatsoever, much to their mounting frustration. The cheeky little buggers even tried subverting my authority via clever ploys involving misdirection and subterfuge. A healthy dose of natural skepticism and my verification spells put a swift stop to that however. This vigilant staunchness of mine earned me the nickname of ol’ killjoy, although the adorable way the girls muttered it only made me smirk in mild amusement and make them groan in collective misery.
From my numerous observations of their little cadre, Apple Bloom still had a penchant for working with her hands, Sweetie Bell had a good singing voice (solo, that is), and Scoots was a marvel of a skater. At first I contemplated trying to suggest activities that pandered to each tween’s hidden skills, only for me to be struck with a bit of an epiphany. The Mana Mark Maiden’s friendship sprung up from their shared lack of an image designating their life’s calling, what if I had gone with my plan and succeeded in clandestinely imparting them with the singular object of their desires? Would they still be as close knit a group of friends as they were? In the end, I decided not to go through with it, let them discover their calling in due time, together of course. Besides, watching them frolic about with a joyful innocence in their little hearts reminded me of a happier time in my life, back when I was younger and the metaphorical weight of the world didn’t feel like it was bearing down on me with a grim inevitability.
My long week at Sweet Apple Acres wasn’t without its fair share of strange and awkward circumstances either. There wasn’t enough brain bleach in the world to erase the wrinkly image that was conjured when Annabelle jestingly requested that I give her a sponge bath as part of my responsibilities (‘Nope, nope, nope, nope, NOPE.EXE has stopped working’). Applejack had developed a sort of a passive affable attitude towards me since gracing me with her intimate presence that one Sunday morning. Though there was that one time where she invited me to wash off in the showers with her, and me being the nonchalant rogue I was, agreed with faux fervor. While I was expecting her invitation to be a bluff, it turns out that she legitimately meant what she said; which meant that I spent the next thirty minutes getting clean whilst also sustaining the most nonplussed half mast I’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing.
Afterwards I had made a mental note to be more cautious when dealing with Applejack’s proffering words. It was interesting at first to see how she looked with water streaming down her golden locks, but rather unpleasant and distracting when I was sharing the same stall as her, washing away the streaks of sweat that accumulated from a hard day’s work. I suppose I should have been flattered with her rather blunt but candid visual appraisal of my junk, apparently the criteria she had been comparing me with had been the one time she had accidentally walked in on her brother when he was changing his undergarments (also not enough brain bleach for that). I initially shrugged off her compliment as was my way, but what red blooded guy wouldn’t feel at least somewhat prideful knowing that a woman had given him a positive review of his wedding tackle?
Speaking of whom, my relationship with AJ’s older brother had also progressed a good deal in the past seven days. Despite the fact that we both shared a relatively silent manner of behavior when left by ourselves, Mac made for a good confidant regarding guy stuff, always listening without interruption when I explained the nature of my many dilemmas. One of which touched upon my many misgivings involving my new love life. I had actually brought up the whole topic just after discovering the large man in the barn plucking away at an acoustic bass guitar while shuffling a sprig of wheat between his teeth, I brought my own instrument and after a curt nod of agreement on his part, we jammed to the tune of Drive by Incubus. I always found the catharsis offered from engaging in this background harmonic magic mojo to be quite fulfilling.
Shockingly enough, Big Macintosh also had a pair of lady callers demanding his attentions; the first of which was Cheerilee (which was obvious enough), but the fact that he was also courting Berry Punch was a little on the unexpected side. When asked about it, he told me that they shared a common taste in liquors and from there they struck up a relationship that eventually blossomed into a romance.
“Sometimes I just don’t know Mac. I come from a culture that is purely monogamous, and to have drawn the eyes of no less than two women makes my insides churn when I think about it” I told him one evening as we sat on the porch chairs overlooking a beautiful pinkish sunset.
A shifted brow was his first response before mulling over what to tell me, “I don’ normally mention this to anyone, but I did too at first. But good times with the both of ‘em have eased me into it”
“Cheeri Berry Sundae huh?” I jokingly prodded, although Mac didn’t look too amused at the witticism, slowly shaking his head and tossing away that wheat sprig I had usually seen him with before turning in his chair to directly look at me.
“Look, know that you don’ have to satisfy 'em both at the same time. Jus’ focus on 'em one at a time and things ought'a work out” My active imagination misinterpreted that in record breaking time, but I refrained from commenting out loud and making myself look like an idiot.
“And on the off chance that they decide they cannot share me equally?” I asked, that very real possibility being the reason I was so unsettled with this setup.
Big Mac’s deep chuckles didn’t do much to reassure me, “Then ya better be ready for a tug a’ war for yer heart”
“God, I pray it doesn’t come to that” I sighed in response, Mac sat back in his wooden chair and it creaked in protest under his burly weight.
“The funny thing is… you an’ me? We’re the simple cases. I hear talk of even larger love polygons existin’ out there in that wild world yonder” He informed me, his tone making it seem as though that were the norm. From there we enjoyed the rest of the sinking sun in silence, momentarily putting aside our troubles for that evening.
Speaking of polygons, I also learned that Macintosh handled the farm’s finances thanks to his penchant for all branches of the cursed maths. It made sense really; one couldn’t run a farm without at least a working knowledge of mathematics. Things like crop schedules, fertilizer yields and market prices meant that being both successful and innumerate were mutually exclusive. It wasn’t that his sister AJ couldn’t do math at all, it was just that she didn’t like it one bit, which was something the farm girl and I had in common. Heck, when Apple Bloom had difficulties with her arithmetic homework, the first person she went to was Big Macintosh (and when he was too busy, me unfortunately). Thankfully, the math homework assigned to tweens in this world never progressed beyond simple algebraic problems, even if Apple Bloom couldn’t comprehend the idea of mixing the alphabet with numbers no matter how many times I explained it for her.
However this whole ‘rinse, wash and repeat’ fruit farmer shtick that I patiently endured over the past week just wasn’t the kind of lifestyle I could see someone like myself ever embracing. This was compounded by the fact that I tended to get stir crazy before long. Fortunately, Friday rolled around soon enough and my agreement to housesit for Fluttershy was made the first (and only) imminent priority on my to do list after officially being released from the household of the Apples. With my things in tow, I made my way down the winding dirt paths in the direction of the Neverfree. Why someone as timid as Fluttershy would ever set up house near such a dark and gloomy forest was anyone’s guess, mine being that she tended to any critters that came to her for care and or treatment. Kind of made me wonder why Magiville even had an actual veterinarian to begin with, I was also really curious to see if her name was actually flummoxed.
Within fifteen minutes of a relaxed pace on my part, I neared the hybrid of the hobbit hole and cottage that was Fluttershy’s place. Situated on top of a mound and next to a babbling brook, the cottage and the area surrounding it was a flurry of activity even in the early hours of the morning. Numerous creatures of all shapes and sizes flocked in large groups on the grassy meadow composing the shy woman’s property, countless birds flew to and fro out of the many birdhouses set up in the trees and exterior of the cottage, squirrels and rabbits hopped back and forth carrying various foodstuffs to their nearby warrens and hollowed tree holes in preparation for winter. Even knowing beforehand that the animals in this magical world were a good deal more intelligent than the ones I was used to encountering, it was still fascinating to see the levels of precise coordination that accompanied this little song and dance of fur and whiskers.
I heaved the strap for my guitar around my other shoulder before crossing the tiny earthen bridge separating me from the wooden Dutch door leading into the cottage. I stopped just shy of the door and knocked in the typical pattern of ‘shave and a haircut’ that announced my presence and waited patiently for an answer. A set of heavy footfalls greeted my ears as the door handle rotated in a spasmodic motion and the aperture slowly swung open. Now, I could understand if Fluttershy was a bit busy and had one of her many animal friends or even her notoriously cantankerous pet Angel to open up for her, but I wasn’t expecting the one to do it to be a FREAKING Grizzly bear! The fearsome looking animal looked me up and down before growling out something that for some inexplicable reason, I interpreted as being a question as to my being there.
“Umm…I’m here to house sit for Fluttershy” I spoke tentatively, standing my ground despite the sharp looking teeth being bared at me.
Another questioning growl with a skeptical grunt mixed in.
“Look, you can ask her yourself and she’ll vouch for me. I’m meant to be here” I subconsciously shifted in discomfort, was I really having a casual conversation with a one thousand pound predator that was literally armed to the teeth?
The large creature stared comprehensively at me for a few seconds before performing the equivalent of a shrug and ambling into the background to do as I said. Meanwhile I was still trying to wrap my head over the absurdity of what I just experienced, it was hardly the strangest thing I’ve done since arriving to this wacky world, but I hardly saw myself as a bear whisperer. Within a minute of so, I heard a distinctively lighter set of footsteps approaching as the woman I had looked forward to seeing again finally addressed me in that subdued but lovely voice of hers.
“Oh, good morning Zenith. Have you come for that favor I asked of Rarity?” She looked like she had just finished grooming herself, her smooth light pink hair having a silky sheen to it that caught and reflecting the Sun’s rays.
“Yeah, I apologize if I wasn’t who you were originally expecting, but Rarity seemed a bit preoccupied with her work to be doing this. Plus I didn’t have anything else to do, so I accepted going in her place”
She shook her head with graceful forbearance and flashed me that wondrous smile of hers, “Oh… its not a problem really, this arrangement works just as well. I’ll just give you a short summary of what to expect and what you’ll need to know. Besides, I’m sure everybody would love to meet you!” She gestured me inside and I obliged her, crossing the threshold and into the interior.
The atmosphere of Fluttershy’s home felt modest, but oddly cozy. Even with the countless number of critters scurrying above and below the floorboards, everything was remarkably clean. One of my secret worries about doing this favor for Rarity was the possibility of putting up with that musty Zoo smell that followed you for hours on end. Not so with Fluttershy’s though, I’m not sure how it was done, but this sanctuary for wildlife felt and smelt sanitary enough for me to disregard the ferret that was currently spiraling around my left leg as though studying me in it’s enigmatic ferrety ways.
I set my things down by the living room loveseat and turned to face the person I was going to housesit for, I used the lull in our conversation to study her attire, admiring her yellow floral blouse and frilly green skirt combination. Honestly, she could wear anything and look absolutely stunning in it.
I idly wondered how well her modeling career progressed here as she led me into the kitchen area, “So I know that your family owned pets at one point, but how experienced are you in taking care of animals personally?” She inquired.
“Passable I guess, as long you tell me which each animals unique requirements are, I’ll do my best to make sure they get the tending they need. I won’t be able to do things like administer medical treatments though” I replied with a half shrug.
She held a wrist to mouth level, “Oh goodness! I hope you won’t have to”
I was about to assure her that it wouldn’t come to that when I felt a half eaten carrot stick strike me on the side of the head, Fluttershy gasped and quietly reprimanded her pet bunny, who was busy glaring at me from the top of the kitchen table and tapping his foot.
“Behave Angel! I hope this isn’t how you would have treated Rarity if she wasn’t as occupied as she is. Now apologize to poor Zenith” She firmly commanded, pointing a finger in my direction.
‘I guess Fluttershy really took those assertiveness lessons to heart’ I humorously noted, amazing as she was before when she was still considered a doormat, it was nice to actually see her showing some backbone to someone desperately in need of some discipline.
Angel made a short defiant squealing noise and crossed his paws together before looking away from both of us; Fluttershy had a knowing smile on her face though.
“Oh Angel” She said in a singsong voice as she stooped down closer to her pet and switched tactics, “I promise to make you a carrot salad with extra cherries when I get back, if you play nice that is” She lay down her charitable terms.
Angel’s ears flicked in curiosity as he considered it, then he made five pushing motions with his left paw and squeaked a little more, causing Fluttershy’s smile to falter a bit.
“Now Angel, five cherries is just too much sugar in one sitting for a cute little bunny like you. You know what happens when you get a sugar rush” She gently reminded the spoiled Leporid, who actually made a sighing noise and conceded. I wasn’t fooled though; I’d be keeping an eye on this treacherous bunny.
The strangely anthropomorphic creature hopped closer to where I was standing and stuck out his tiny paw, I was about to return the gesture with my index finger and shake on it when he suddenly pulled back and stuck out his tongue at me, briskly making his escape through one of the many portholes in the house before he could face my righteous judgment for leaving me hanging.
Fluttershy sighed in exasperation, “I’m so sorry about Angel, he’s really not so bad once you get to know him, I promise”
I waved it off, “It’s cool, I’m sure he’s just being protective of his wonderful caretaker”
Fluttershy’s cheeks lit up at the praise and she hid behind her long flowing hair, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like a ‘thank you’. I didn’t want her to freeze up or anything, so I cleared my throat and made a rolling gesture telling her to continue. The shy woman eventually pulled herself out of her shell and opened the door leading into her backyard and stepped through, with myself following after. Almost immediately after setting foot on the grass, my senses were assaulted by a wide array of sights and sounds. Whereas the front was filled with activity, the back was almost hectic with the amount of bustling happening. Animals of all shapes and sizes were scurrying, flapping, hopping, and even slithering about the field, occupying themselves with whatever as they awaited the gentle ministrations of the saintly woman standing next to me.
‘Just when I thought I couldn’t have any more on my plate’ I instantly followed that up with a delicious mental image of mashed potatoes and gravy next to a large slab of thick juicy steak. I shook my head to clear it of the distraction; I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts in a place like this anyway.
“So when I first knocked, a grizzly bear answered the door, who was that?” I asked out of the blue.
“Oh, uhm… his name is Garrett. He comes to me for deep tissue massages on a regular basis” She answered me, avoiding looking me in the eyes for some reason. I simply assumed that she just couldn’t handle any kind of commendations without locking up and let it be.
“Am I going to have to provide him with those? The idea of working with a creature that could easily rend me in two is a discomforting thought” I tilted my head in said creature’s direction, who was currently observing an active bee hive with the utmost interest.
“Only if he asks you nicely, and you shouldn’t worry about that. Garrett is a gentle creature that wouldn’t hurt a fly; he even goes out of his way every morning to catch salmon for the other omnivorous animals so that they don’t have to hunt for themselves, something that I think should be rewarded” She explained, grabbing a jar of what seemed to be honey from an outside stock cupboard and whistled in Garrett’s direction. He looked back at us in curiosity before eyeing the treat that Fluttershy was holding and hobbling excitedly towards us before the kind woman popped the lid and offered it to the hairy Ursa, who began to clean the insides with glee and huffed happily.
After the creature had thoroughly gorged itself, Fluttershy let out two short whistles followed by a long one, all the creatures with ears in the garden instantly stopped what they were doing and assembled around us. I had often wondered what methods the woman used to get the collective attentions of all the animals she cared for, who were now currently staring at us (more specifically me) in curiosity.
“Okay everyone, Zenith here has volunteered his precious time to act in my place while I’m away for the day. I expect each and every one of you to be on your best behavior and to treat him with the respect he deserves, and I’m certain he’ll reciprocate that in turn as he gets to know all of you. Can you do that for me?” A positive chorus of chitters, tweets, and squeaks answered in the affirmative.
She nodded, satisfied with their response before turning to me, “Don’t be shy, introduce yourself to them” She softly urged me.
‘She seems to be a lot more confident around her animal friends than with regular people around, I wonder why?’
I stepped forward and thought for a moment about what kind of impression I wanted to make, with dozens of beady eyes awaiting my words. I had no doubt that these creatures were at least self aware and therefore moderately intelligent, so this next part was crucial if I wanted to gain their trust. Perhaps a polite, business minded approach mixed with sincere friendliness ought to work.
“Greetings everyone, I know that most of you are accustomed to having this endearing and selfless woman that I have the pleasure of knowing see to it that each and every one of you are well cared for. I assure you that while I might appear woefully inadequate in comparison to her no doubt masterful safekeeping skills, I ask that you find it in your hearts to at least give me a chance to prove my worth” It may have been overdoing it, but I bowed respectfully as if I had made a serious proposition to a member of foreign royalty.
The many creatures in the garden actually convened and discussed amongst themselves what I had told them. For the most part, they sounded like they were in unanimous agreement, with only a few protesting whines and hisses alerting me to potential dissenters.
‘Why am I not surprised that one of them is a snake?’ I imperceptibly shook my head, silently making contingency plans to quash any potential rebellions before the discontent spread like wildfire.
Before I could create any more backup plans, the animals all turned to face the two of us. One of them, a toucan of all creatures, flew forward and set up perch on my shoulder. It vocalized a long and approving caw and the rest of the assembly similarly voiced their assent. I wasn’t really knowledgeable about making friends with the wildlife, so I could only assume that I was off to a good start. I craned my head sideways to Fluttershy, who was looking upon the scene with a half amused, half delighted smile.
I rubbed my hands together to simulate excited eagerness, “Well that’s one thing out of the way, lets go over my responsibilities before we see you off”
The reserved woman mirrored my seeming anticipation, “Of course!”
The next fifteen minutes were spent being educated on the needs of each creature that Fluttershy regularly attended to. It wasn’t anything terribly complex to my relief. Feeding schedules were uniform for both diurnal and nocturnal creatures, most of the animals were old enough that they didn’t need to have their various appendages constantly held, and individual quirks and special needs were few and far between. I asked about the chicken coop that Fluttershy owned and she explained that it functioned as a home for Elizabeak and the other hens as well as a small source of income from the selling of the many eggs they laid. Fluttershy also taught me the system of whistle combinations that she used to keep everything orderly; I found it incredibly amusing to discover that the wake up call was fashioned in the same style as reveille.
Once I was sufficiently versed in the day to day operations of casa flutters, she pardoned herself to retrieve something from upstairs before her departure. Meanwhile, I was busy rifling through her tiny kitchen cabinets in search of something to steep my mug of warm water with, when I caught a flicker of motion in the edges of my vision. I temporarily put aside my search for some relaxing herbal tea and investigated the disturbance, my search led me to a refrigerator (‘Technology! Why you no make sense here!?’) that had a calendar pinned on depicting the month and a particular pastime associated with it. For the month of November, it showed a nondescript person walking along a row of vibrant maple trees that were slowly shedding their leaves. The moment I stared at it for more than three seconds, the picture started to become more animated, with the person developing a hop in their step as walked along the serene forest. It was almost like those lively paintings and newspaper clippings in the Harry Potter series now that I thought about it.
Curiosity got the better of me and I flipped through the pages, each portraying another scene corresponding with the respective months until I reached the month of June, at which point the image of Discord wearing a mankini while lounging in beach chair with a margarita in his hand branded its way into my memory forever.
“Oh Christ, my eyes!” I recoiled in horror and the calendar fell to the floor with a flop.
Given the circumstances, I think my reaction was understandable. Ol’ Disky however, didn’t seem to agree with that sentiment. The calendar flapped until it was level with me and quickly righted itself until the awful centerfold was mere inches from my face.
“I know I’m not exactly gifted in the looks department, but that was just uncalled for” He pseudo scowled, his eyebrows popping of his forehead and realigning themselves until they matched his expression.
“Wearing that outfit? What kind of reaction were you expecting?” Sweet Stars above, what if Fluttershy had walked in and seen that?
He laid a hand against his face in a dramatic fashion not unlike a certain dressmaker, “Your cruel words wound me! Not all of us can seduce Princesses with our devilish looks and charm alone. Is that how you’d treat your good pal Discord?” His attempt at the puppy eyes had even less of an effect than the Mana Mark Maidens, the mankini didn’t do him any favors either.
I narrowed my eyes at the annoying bureaucrat, “We are hardly friends. That reminds me, I still have to wring your neck for siccing a bewitched Celestia on me. I imagine she was none too pleased with you tampering with her morning tea”
“Are you still upset over that pish posh? If it makes you feel any better, that prank cost me my magic privileges for days. Have you ever had to deal with mountains of contradictory manuscripts and documents yourself without a veritable army of brooms imbued with accounting and cataloging knowledge? I may be a reformed lord of Chaos, but forcing me to run a rat race like that without my powers is just low” He literally vented steam as he explained how much his prankster antics cost him. The calendar then decided to remove what little space there was separating the still ridiculously dressed Lord of Chaos and myself and get directly in my business.
“As for bewitching Celestia? I’ll have you know that even I cannot plant feelings and secret yearnings where none have previously existed. It would seem that our dear Princess of the Sun is hiding some things from you” He chuckled in a way that absolutely could not be trusted, it’s not as if what he told me was anything I didn’t already suspect to begin with, being the meticulously paranoid bucko that I am.
I pointedly ignored his attempt at getting under my skin, opting to ask a question instead, “Are you actually inside that calendar? Or is it just acting as some kind of interactive scrying window?” I reached out with my magic to analyze the object when I felt my influence get rebuffed by whatever spell Discord was using to have this conversation with me.
“Tsk tsk Prince Zenith. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s impolite to intermingle your magic with that of someone else’s? Think of the scandal that could arouse if you went about meshing your essence with that of other people’s willy-nilly. It’s a total disregard of personal space is what it is!” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at calling me the dreaded P word and the sheer hypocrisy of his statement.
“Says the guy who’s practically shoving his pictorial balls in my face” I retorted, “And no, I wasn’t informed that it was bad manners to do that, my sincerest apologies” My words with so thick with sarcasm that they could have engraved their way onto solid steel.
He ‘harumphed’ at my parched attitude towards himself, “Well if you’re going to be like that, then I might just change my mind about owing you a solid for delivering my letter to Fluttershy”
I crossed my arms and cocked a brow at the madman, “A favor from the infamous Lord of Chaos? Pardon me if I withhold my enthusiasm at the prospect of a favor that could just as easily bite me in the ass than act as a boon”
“While I admit that the idea of twisting one’s own words against them is still as tempting as ever, I’m reformed remember?” He leaned back into his lounge chair and sipped at his margarita (which I noticed had a chili pepper instead of a lime wedge for flavoring), “Besides, Arcania has enough lawyers that do that sort of conniving… while the only thing poor Discord has to show is intimately knowing the ins, outs, and inside outs of an increasingly convoluted bureaucracy”
He smirked and added with a toasting motion, “Just the way I like it”
“Is this favor a standing offer? Cause it’s something I’ll only call upon if and when I need it”
He dismissively waved a hand that was desperately in need of a nail trimming, “Sure, sure. I Discord, hereby solemnly swear that I owe you a favor on a date and time of your choosing. If it lay within my power to grant, then it will be so. If I may humbly suggest, make it something exciting! Like turning all the birds into flying pears or declaring opposite day a national holiday… or maybe wishing that Celestia had an interesting personality!” He spouted, placing particular emphasis on the last point.
“I’m too utilitarian to ask for anything so mundane of someone who isn’t even a djinn. Besides…I think Celestia is plenty interesting! Perhaps if you didn’t grate on her nerves so much, she’d let you see her less strict side”
He scratched his chin in thought while also running a tongue down his snaggletooth, “Another side to Celestia you say? Is it one hundred percent nag free?”
“Yup, she definitively knows how to deal with troublemakers with minimal speaking on her part. I remember the time she made a greedy corporate scumbag who was trying to lower taxes on his company for all the wrong reasons break down by simply staring disapprovingly at him until he promised to never bother her again and hastily excused himself” The memory made me chuckle, some of the Princess’ subjects feared her authority so much that they nearly wet themselves under her intense gaze. It worked just fine for Louis the Sun King, so why not her?
“She’s also got an interesting sense of humor too, probably the only Princess I know of who enjoys pranks just as much as you. Only hers are not as mind numbingly obvious in their design and are completely without ill intent” Anyone who lives that long has to find subtle ways to entertain themselves I imagine.
“Hmm…color me intrigued” He immediately turned polka dotted, “While I’ve enjoyed our little talk, I have a very important rendezvous to spiffy up for. Before I leave, a last word of advice? Don’t go chasing the white rabbit!” With his last piece spoken, the calendar flew back to its original spot in the fridge, leaving a somewhat nonplussed Zenith standing confused next a tiny set of drawers containing the tea ingredients I was looking for.
After I finally savored myself a nice cup of tea with mint leaf extract, Fluttershy had finished doing whatever it was women took their time with before heading out into the world and stopped in the kitchen to bid me farewell. I didn’t notice anything that had changed about her physically, but she felt different somehow, like there was a hidden twinge of nervousness in her aura.
“Well…it’s almost time for me to go. I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job as a stand in for me”
“I’ll do my best. Any estimate on how long you’ll be gone?” I asked her, placing my now empty mug in a strangely natural looking washbasin built into a hollowed out tree stump.
“Probably until tomorrow morning, that’s how these trips usually go” She scraped a foot along the floor in that bashful manner that I found beguiling of her.
“In that case, I hope you have a great time. Tell Discord that I’ll be thinking real hard about that solid he owes me”
She gaped at me, “H-how did you know I was going out to see Discord?”
I shrugged in nonchalance, “Simple deduction really, it’s an established fact that you and he exchange letters to keep in contact, but true friends actually spend time with each other every now and again”
I grinned to myself and vaingloriously added, “Plus you just confirmed it for me”
She gave me a sidelong glance, “That’s rather…perceptive of you Zenith, I’ll be sure to relay your message to him the first moment I see him”
I wanted to ask what it was that she and Discord did together, but figured that it was none of my business. I walked with her to the front door and waved her goodbye before getting down to business around the cottage. Even with how clean it appeared, it was in dire need of some organization; sacks of birdfeed and animal pellets lay scattered throughout the house, the open door cages had loose feathers and…used newspaper flooring that needed to be collected and tossed into the rubbish bin, and there was also the small matter of a smug looking Angel bunny with a small mob of dissenters behind him looking to cause trouble.
“Really…? Fluttershy isn’t even gone for five minutes and you’ve already organized a small rebellion against me?” I would have found the notion adorable had it not been so disrespectful to ‘mah authoritay’.
Angel nodded, keeping that cocksure grin on his features before squeaking out what sounded like a battle cry and the group rushed towards me Braveheart style. I’m not really sure what they would have accomplished had they even reached me, but a quick stun wave spell put an end to their little uprising. I crouched down to the frozen looking Angel who tried his best to glare balefully at me despite the inability to move what counted as his eyebrows.
“Alright you fluffy little rabble rouser, I’m a patient man, but I can tell that patience won’t be enough for you. Since I’m typically opposed to keeping someone captive in their own home, I’m going to let you off with a slap on the wrist and a warning. Don’t try to subvert me when I’m doing something nice for your mum and every creature she cares for” I tapped a finger on his paw and simultaneous removed the paralysis spell I cast on him. As he got to his feet, I could tell that the first thing he wanted to do was give me a kick. To the shock of his still frozen supporters (and likely himself), he hugged my shin instead of whacking it.
I may have been forgiving, but I was far from foolish. When I tapped him on the paw and removed his paralysis, I had concurrently cast a reverse intention charm on him. Instead of doing whatever it was he wanted to do to me, the spell forced his body to do whatever was closest to the opposite, in my deviousness I also made it so that the only way to break that charm was to legitimately want to befriend me. Celestia may have imparted some questionable reading material to Twilight, but I’ll be a deep fried turkey if they didn’t contain some useful spells within their texts (and that isn’t Applejack’s speech mannerisms rubbing off on me either).
“Glad we finally have an understanding” I dryly remarked to the touchy bunny, then directed my attention towards the rest, “Same goes for the rest of you. If you like being fed, then you shouldn’t bite the hand that’s going to feed you. I mean this quite literally, are we clear?” I partially removed the paralysis effect on their noggins, it wasn’t very effective for tubular creatures like the snake, but the honey badger next to it seemed apologetic, based on how zealously it was nodding its head at the moment.
Knowing that the situation was mostly diffused, I dropped the magic and let them all go. A few of Angel’s staunchest supporters were muttering to themselves, probably uttering a few choice curses in whatever natural speech each animal used. Angel was busy hugging up a storm next to my leg; I was partly concerned that if he got really frustrated he’d start dry humping me too. So I promptly excused myself from the living room and went about playing housekeeper. The feeding schedule for the diurnal creatures started at nine o’ clock sharp, so I had an hour or so making sure that Fluttershy’s cottage was in tip top shape. Once everything was cleaned and sorted into the appropriate cubbies and cabinets, I switched roles from a cleaning maid to a scullery maid, grabbing all the bags of birdseed, vegetarian pellets and even some preserved cuts of dehydrated meat for the more carnivorous critters from appropriately labels storage containers in the shed.
‘She didn’t tell me to stay outta her shed now did she?’
I returned to the garden and repeated the shrill assembly whistling that Fluttershy had first used. It worked like a charm (the non magical kind) and pretty soon I was surrounded by droves of hungry looking eyes. Fluttershy had informed me that it was very important to have each group of creatures feast separately. This was to discourage any possible conflicts between opposing groups, it made plenty of sense, you wouldn’t want to mix the carnivores and herbivores together or else you might end up with less herbivores than when you started. These creatures may have been smart, but they were still subject to following their natural instincts. Luckily there were two long feeding troughs positioned low to the ground along the fencing that had several partitions for separating food and water. I filled each with the corresponding aliments and used an old fashioned well pump to fill metal buckets with water to add to the troughs. Curiously enough, the massive congregation of creatures did not immediately dig in the moment I finished my job.
I crooked my head sideways and stared at them funny, “Well what are you waiting for…permission? Soup’s on everybody!” I clapped my hands together in case they didn’t get the picture.
And with that they all converged on the troughs, their manners may have been refined, but their eating habits weren’t so elegant. The trough for herbivores had pieces of grains spilling over the sides and the one for the carnivores had bits of dried meat flying left and right in tiny little shreds, a small part of my mind likened them to a pack of Velociraptors tearing away at the carcass of a cow. That line of thinking made me remember that my laptop had a complete library of flicks like Jurassic Park that I hadn’t seen in forever, perhaps when I found myself with some free time I would browse my selection again. Once the feeding frenzy was over, the happily stuffed animals went their separate ways and dispersed throughout the garden.
Which is why I was puzzled when Garrett decided to draw close to me and make a series of snorting sounds, followed by harshly nudging into my side with his snout.
“Lemme guess, you want me to give you the same deep tissue massage that my predecessor gives you?” An affirmative nod, followed by a short string of aggressive growls.
That had me worried, “And you want it so it’s like a mock fight? But you won’t go easy on me the same way you do with Fluttershy? And you justify it by saying it’s to prove my worth?” Another nod of confirmation.
I arched a brow, if I wasn’t as capable as I was, I’d have politely declined. As it was though… “I accept your challenge, lets take this someplace where there is minimal risk of collateral damage”
I walked a good fifty meters past the wooden fencing of Fluttershy’s yard into the clear open field that hugged the edges of the Neverfree with Garrett hot on my tail. While we were walking, I magically blunted my fists and feet, I’ve learned from my sessions with my shadow sparring puppets that the physical strength of a Trifect is more than enough to gib someone if they don’t ‘pull their punches’ so to speak. I wouldn’t want to turn Garrett into bloody chunks, it would reflect poorly on me to Flutters after all… and I suppose that Garrett wouldn’t appreciate it either.
‘Look at me, I’m granting a fully grown Grizzly bear a handicap! What about my clemency huh?’ I sighed exasperatedly. It’s not easy being an honorable Trifect sometimes.
Once I figured we were far enough, I spun in place to face my fuzzy adversary. Garrett had mirrored my rigid posture and stood on his hind legs. I may have grown a good deal taller in recent times, but Garrett’s eight foot frame still dwarfed me by a significant margin. The Grizzly vocalized an intimidating roar that caused the very air itself to vibrate; and also gave me a good whiff of his awful fish breath. Not one to be so easily outdone, I dug into my magic and amplified my voice, imitating the first thing that came to mind; namely, the Hollywood roar of the Tyrannosaurus. The effect was like the overwhelming force shout of the Dovahkiin, completely knocking back the Grizzly and momentarily incapacitating him. I wouldn’t allow him to get back up, wanting to save myself the trouble of having to avoid any claw filled swipes, so I rushed the dazed creature and began working him over. I wasn’t educated on the location of muscle groups and where they were clustered on a member of the Ursus genus, but I figured that my fists of fury approach offered full coverage.
The beast’s initial roars of pain gradually subsided as I effectively loosened all of the taut and knotted muscles in his shoulders and backside, melting into a pile of satisfied groans and grunts while I karate chopped his discomfort into oblivion. I was glad that my only audience was a gaggle of stupefied rabbits and a bug eyed billy goat; if somebody like Rainbow Dash caught me doing this then I doubt I’d ever hear the end of it.
I ceased my well-intentioned assault on the thick skinned Grizzly and knelt down by his muzzle, “Good enough for ya?” He weakly nodded, enjoying the euphoria that accompanies every good massage.
I shook my head and walked back in the direction of the cottage, my life was just weird at times.
⁂
The rest of that day passed uneventfully, any animals that still felt resentful of me were rendered pacified after my display of might involving Garrett; who was now a lot chummier around me. It was also endlessly amusing to see Angel try to think up ways to bypass my reverse intention charm, only to have it blow up in his face (e.g, attempting to offer me a carrot laced with laxatives, only to eat it himself and spend the next half hour in the little bunny’s room). I carried out my remaining duties by collecting all the eggs that Elizabeak and her fellow hens laid while also setting up the troughs for the nocturnal animals, which a little bird told me arrived in the evening hours (I still don’t know how I can interpret animal speech, I think its some kind of innate empathic sense). Keeping Fluttershy’s cottage in working order was a lot more rewarding than working at Sweet Apple Acres, at least the animals here had the good grace of thanking me in their own way (nuzzles, cuddly embraces, even a tribute of nuts from some very happy squirrels)
‘Unlike those ungrateful cows’ I groused to myself, farm work sucks big time.
Night rolled around and all of the diurnal creatures lodging in the cottage were preparing to get some shuteye, myself included. I claimed Angel’s favorite spot on the couch and reclined, kicking my feet up and putting my hands behind my head like I was Phil Collins and just didn’t care anymoe’. I idly wondered what it was that Fluttershy and Discord did during their times spent together. In spite of the intense suppression of my emotions, I still felt a pang of jealousy stab into my heart. What if their get togethers were actually dates in disguise?
The thought of possibly losing such an amazing woman to the likes of Discord was a vastly unsettling thought. I like to delude myself into thinking that I do a decent job of hiding it, but I kind of had a thing for the delicate woman. I honestly couldn’t help the way I felt, Fluttershy represented a great many things that I found lacking in my existence: the way she could see the good in others while no one else did, her genuine modesty and love of all life, and especially that profound kindness that she embodied almost to a fault. That night when I had been purged of the Nightmare remnant’s influence and she consoled me only reinforced my adoration of the element of kindness, and that of laughter’s as well. I’d never openly admit it, but Celestia was right about one thing… I needed the companionship of these people if I truly wanted the quality of my life to improve. The hard part was getting my stubborn mind and body to acknowledge what my heart was telling me.
I was so absorbed in my musings that I nearly failed to notice a very unhappy looking Angel scamper across the wooden floor and out the back doggie door in a hurry. Where was that rancorous rabbit going?
I grumpily muttered to myself, “I know Discord warned me about this, but I should really make sure the little guy doesn’t inadvertently put himself in harm’s way”
I brushed the ferret from earlier off of my lap and set off in search of Fluttershy’s beloved pet. Tracking him was made a good deal easier by my inherent ability to home in my own reverse intent charm, which was still in effect. Judging by how far off the energy signature was, I’d say the little bunny was getting himself way in over his head inside the thickets of the Neverfree. I recalled the nasty encounters I had with the wildlife housed within and made certain that my only means of defense were still strapped to my side.
My current armament was my ever present Tantō and the aged sack containing the venerable shards of Dichotomy. As much as I wanted an excuse to use the hidden blades, I figured that they were best for close quarters vital spot exploitation, something that I very much wanted to avoid. My usual wear didn’t offer much in the way of protection, so agility and speed would have to serve as my armor instead. My strides began to widen as my walk became a jog, turning into a full blown sprint as a sinking feeling started to settle in my gut. I intuitively knew that I wouldn’t be able to retrieve Angel and leave this forest unopposed. After about five minutes of running, I had reached an open clearing consisting of weeds and brush that grew high enough to reach my stomach. I spotted Angel in an opening moping about with his back against a large boulder with a carrot in his paws; this was presumably some special spot where he stored his comfort foods.
“There you are!” I got within speaking proximity of the troublesome pet, “You shouldn’t run off into the Neverfree like that Angel, Fluttershy would have been heartbroken if you were turned into some wayward predator’s dinner” I chided the bunny, who felt content to ignore me for the time being. Once he finished the last of his carrot, he tossed it to the side and muttered in a mopey tone.
I rubbed tiredly at my temples, “Why is it so difficult for us to simply get along? I’m only doing your caretaker a modest service by watching over all of you while she’s away, there’s no reason to foster any discontent towards me”
He squeaked angrily and pointed an accusing paw at me, “You think I’m only doing this to impress your mom?” I scratched the back of my head, “You’re correct… but only partially. I did this because there was no one else available at the time to take Rarity’s place; I’m also duty bound to assist those in need of it, so naturally I volunteered” I explained to the skeptical rabbit, who retorted in a sarcastic fashion.
“Well no…I do think your mom is a marvelous woman and I’d very much like to acquaint more of myself with her in the future, but I have no intentions of ‘stealing her away from you’ if that’s what you meant” I reassured him with a good natured chortle.
I knelt down and offered my hand, “So how about it? Friends? I’ll even toss in some of those cherries you’re so fond of!” I amicably offered.
Angel looked deep in thought, placing a paw on his chin as he internally debated whether or not to take me at my words. He eventually shrugged to himself and shook appendages with me, I could tell that he meant it too because my charm wore off almost instantly. A celebration over this small victory would have to wait though, because a succession of harsh sounding growls filled the air as what were unmistakably wolves made out of wood materialized from the thick brushwork and surrounded us. There were at least a half dozen of them and they looked like they were rearing for a fight. I promptly got to my feet and assumed a protective stance over Fluttershy’s beloved pet.
‘Bastards must have snuck up on us’ I internally berated myself for not casting a proximity alert spell on myself earlier.
“Angel” I spoke with a steady calm, “The moment I give the word, I want you to return home as quickly as you can. Stomp your foot if you heard me”
A light thump, followed by some worried squeaking, “I’m a more tempting target so they’ll focus on me instead of you, don’t you worry about me” I moved my hand to the handle of my Tantō and slowly pulled it out.
The distinctive sound of metal being unsheathed made the growls of the Timberwolves intensify and they bared their splintery teeth at me. I also loosened the strings keeping the shards of Dichotomy dangling at my side, I hoped the situation wouldn’t get bad enough to warrant its usage, but I reckoned that it was better being safe than dead. It turns out that I didn’t even have to give any sort of signal; the hostile tension in the air was enough for Angel to beat a hasty retreat in the direction of the cottage, the timberwolf closest to him snapped and narrowly missed catching him by the tail before returning its attention on me. Their sickly green eyes glowed menacingly in the low light of the forest.
I held out my blade in what I hoped was a gesture of warning, “If I were you, I’d back off…lest I become a tinder wolf” I channeled magic into my weapon and watched as flames flickered and danced along its spine.
If this intimidated them, they didn’t show it, slowly advancing on me in a pincer movement. Looks like I’d have to fight my way outta this mess. Despite the great danger of the situation, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy knowing that this scuffle would take place in an extremely flammable weed field.
‘And I know the perfect song to burn things to’ I summoned the sound sphere; sending it high into the air and having it produce a certain Skrillex track from the third Far Cry.
The instant the music started playing, the timberwolf closest to me broke formation and pounced on me. I backpedaled on reflex and the body of the ligneous beast tumbled on top of me, all the while trying to savagely tear my throat out but having some difficulty with the way I was propping it up and away from myself with my left elbow. It clawed at whatever part of me it could reach, scratching me and tearing up my shirt, but failing to draw any blood. The damn thing’s wretched breath stank of rotting bark and made me want to gag. I swiftly sank my burning blade into the gap that constituted its neck and separated its head from its shoulders, the corpse catching alight as I had promised earlier. I heaved its smoldering carcass off my chest and rolled to the side to avoid a downward slash from its comrade. I reached into the sack at my side with my magic and withdrew Dichotomy, assembling it together before splitting the overall blade into two halves and igniting them for good measure. I was done playing around.
The timberwolves began to realize that they were not dealing with an easy prey and began baying in unison. I was hoping they would get the picture and leave me the hell alone, but a louder and much more authoritative howl in the distance answered them and put an end to my wishful thinking. The rest of them began to charge me at once, I didn’t have much in the way of practice with my Mageblade, and this was a trial by fire if there ever was one. I positioned my twin blades parallel to the ground and wind milled them in a rapid clockwise rotation. This felled three of the wolves that were bold or stupid enough to attempt lunging at me, dicing them up and setting what was left on fire. The other two skid to a halt and kept their distance, analyzing my impromptu tactic for any weaknesses. My makeshift lawnmower of the inferno was a formidable defense, I also kept it level with my solar plexus so I could intercept any endeavors to skirt underneath my wood chipper of doom.
If they ever found a chink in my armor, I never gave them the chance to take advantage of it. I used the built up momentum of the spinning blades and hurled the shards at the wolves like a Flechette launcher, only the darts were also on fire. And just like a shotgun round, the speedy projectiles tore into my remaining opponents and rent them limb from sappy limb. I recalled the pieces back to me in anticipation of whatever reinforcements the cowardly wolves cried home to. Whatever was stomping its way through the forest was definitely a big one; the ground shook with every step coming closer in a Doppler effect like crescendo. I didn’t have to wait long as two sizable trees were ripped from their roots as the father of all Timberwolves emerged from the woodwork, standing several feet high and wearing a crown of pinecones on its head. It stopped briefly to survey the field, which by now was burning in more than a few places. Its massive eyes observed its fallen brethren before settling on me, the gears in its head turned as it connected the dots accordingly. It let out a thunderous roar of rage and began bounding towards me in large strides, murderous intent written into each movement.
‘Time to go Kratos on this insipid visual pun’ I began charging towards the vengeful alpha in what seemed like reckless abandon.
It tilted its head to the side and opened its gaping jaws; ready to snatch me up the instant we converged. It’s monstrous mouth snapped shut with a resounding crunching noise of wood on wood, but instead of killing me as it thought it would, it only managed to disperse the illusion spell I cast just before cloaking myself. I reappeared underneath the unwary beast and introduced Dichotomy to its vulnerable underbelly, dragging the sword down its ventral surface and spilling its guts as I went. The alpha timberwolf let out a shriek of anguished surprise and collapsed as dark colored sap spewed from its abdomen like lifeblood, I took advantage of its weakness to test out that theory that I developed last week. I proceeded to fracture my blade once more and supercharged it with energy before sending each individual piece sailing into the dying creature, who whimpered pathetically with every shard that deeply imbedded themselves into its wooden frame.
I walked around to the front of the craven heap of logs and branches and wrenched out its crown with my magic, casually tossing it into a nearby flame.
“…The bigger they are…” I callously murmured to myself, “Any last words?” I asked of my soon to be toasted adversary.
The animated construct glared hatefully at me with its last ounces of strength, “No? Well I have one for you…” I mimicked triggering a detonator, the shards of Dichotomy punctually went critical and the magic stored within was released with explosive results, showering the immediate area with a foul rain of mulch and charred twigs. I erected a barrier spell around myself so I could enjoy the show from up close and avoid suffering the dreaded splinters.
“…Boom” I used the lull to inspect the aftermath. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the field was beginning to ignite from the spreading fires. Somewhere out there, the toasty guy was having paroxysms.
I cast similar barrier spells over the patches of fire to deprive them of air and snuff them out, I didn’t want this whole place to burn down after all. I recollected the shards of Dichotomy and to my intrigue; they didn’t even give off any heat from all the thermo inducive spells I had been using them with. I shrugged indifferently and put them away, I’d say that they performed more than adequate in dispatching my enemies with haste. Although I did have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me that I shouldn’t take to the act of killing in such a cold manner, but I felt inclined to feel absolutely nothing towards anything that tries to end me.
‘Timberwolves are just magical constructs anyway’
‘That’s besides the point, what if we have to do this again with living creatures or heaven forbid…actual people?’ My compassionate side reasoned, urging me to find other solutions. I would have none of it.
‘Then may the good lord have mercy on them, because I won’t’ I replied without emotion, memories of the time I first killed briefly flashing in my mind before being banished to whence they came.
I walked the rest of the way back to Fluttershy’s in silence. I had a good hunch that I would be left alone for the remainder of the night so I even took the time to pluck a pretty looking exotic flower I spotted on the way back (not poison joke, I knew better than that). When I finally reached the door to the cottage, it swung open and a white rabbit dressed in medieval getup and riding atop a drowsy but resolute looking grizzly bear marched outside.
“A rescue party for me? You shouldn’t have” I joked in a lighthearted tone, doing a complete one eighty from my dour attitude in the Neverfree.
Seeing that I was still alive and very much in one piece, a relieved Angel hopped off of Garrett and embraced my right pant leg. The corner of my lips curled upward at the unexpected affection.
“Fluttershy was right about you Angel, you do have a sweet side” At that, he glanced upwards in annoyance and stuck his tongue out at me; he kept his grip on me regardless.
I turned my attention to Garrett, who looked mildly amused at the reunion, “Sorry you were woken up for a false start buddy” He performed the equivalent of an ‘its cool’ shrug and curled back up by the fireplace before drifting off to sleep.
“C’mon Angel, let’s get you those cherries as promised” Before I took another step, I felt a tug on my jeans I glanced down to see him shaking his head and uttering something in Angelese.
“You’ll actually hold off on them until Fluttershy gets back? That’s rather…mature of you Angel” I expressed with faint shock, this creature wasn’t as self-centered as I was originally led to believe.
Once Angel had excused himself to his quarters and I put the short-stemmed flower I had pulled into a water vase, I had one last thing on my agenda before I got some sleep myself. I ascended the stairs and found the bathroom. Once inside I examined myself for any injuries using the mirror, other than some tufts of slightly abraded skin, I was mostly unharmed. I shed my damaged shirt and the rest of my clothes before taking a nice hot bath.
If I thought Crystal Clear’s hygiene products were feminine, then Fluttershy’s were doubly so. I exited the bathroom smelling heavily of roses and various berries, it may have worked beautifully for the demure woman, but I could feel my masculinity taking a hit with every second I endured this indignity. With a towel wrapped around my waist, I retrieved some replacement clothes from my backpack downstairs and donned them. With all of that taken care of, I plopped down on the empty couch with mechanical like precision in order to retire. From there I fell into a dreamless sleep, the events of the day being put to the side for now.
⁂
The sound of numerous birds happily chirping roused me from my restful slumber, although the persistent crick in my back reminded me why being sent to the couch was considered a punishment. I groaned at the incessant light trying to force its way into my eyeballs and grumbled something unintelligible about Celestia conspiring to ruin all of my plans for sleeping in. Don’t get me wrong, I could be an early riser when I felt like it, but a whole week of doing that and working my ass off at Sweet Apple Acres entitled me to be lazy damn it! I grabbed my couch pillow and pulled it over my face, before rotating away from the garish light of day. I wasn’t even able to get five minutes worth of shut eye before I felt Garrett’s furry snout prodding my spine and a reproachful snort cover my back with bear snot.
“Really? Freaking really!?” I got up and glared at the creature that dared disturb me, ignoring the fact that barely a month ago he would have been fully capable of tearing me a new one completely unhindered by me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, “What is it Garrett?” He responded robotically, as if reciting that someone was at the do…
A knock echoed throughout the cottage.
‘Who in the world could that be? It couldn’t be Fluttershy since she wouldn’t have to knock on her own front door’ My curiosity was stoked enough that I got my slothful ass off of the couch and answered it.
On the other side was a blond woman wearing a greyish uniform with short sleeves and the insignia ‘Magiville Postal Service’ embroidered with fancy thread onto her right breast pocket. She also had a cheerful face with only one of her eyes focused on me, while the other thought that the floor was more interesting.
“Are you Mr. Zenith?” I nodded wordlessly, continuing my visual examination of her features, “I brought you a letter!” She announced with joyful pride, reaching into her satchel and handing me said letter. The width was unusually fat for the envelope; the contents inside must have been lengthy.
“Thank you miss…?” I was getting good at this obfuscating ignorance act.
She saluted me, “Ditzy Derpina Doo at your service! I’m the local mailwoman for the Magiville mailing office, most efficient employee they got!”
“Well I commend you on successfully locating me, how’d you accomplish that if you don’t mind me asking?”
She waved a dismissive hand, “That was easy, miss Rarity saw fit to notify me that you’d be substituting for her at Fluttershy’s when I delivered her mail yesterday. That was real considerate of you to do by the way”
“Just doing my part, and thank you for being such a dedicated and hard working woman on your part” I graciously replied.
“Oh, you’re just saying that” She tried brushing off the praise.
“No really!” I insisted, “I’m not sure if you get this from a lot of people, but I wanted you to know that you should keep on being a total Rock Star, I’ve seen you around town flitting all over the place and making sure that everyone receives the information they need on time. Communication is important in any society and the more punctual it is, the better, and you have been nothing short of amazing in that department from what I’ve seen” I complimented with a fulsome grin, eliciting a slight reddening of the cheeks from the diffident woman.
“You really think so? No one really gives me an actual review on my competence levels; they just tell me that I’m performing adequately. Or they make some snide comment about my disability keeping me back” She began absentmindedly stroking at her Mana mark, which depicted a column of bubbles.
“Don’t let them get you down Ditzy, and never let anyone tell you that you’re not good enough to do something…not even if that person is your own self, got it?”
“Wow mister, I’ve barely known you for two minutes and already you’ve got me feeling like I can take on the world!” She smiled at me, which reached both of her eyes (even if one of them was watching the sky).
“I’m just repeating what countless others would have said back where I come from”
“Well, if they’re anything like you, then your hometown must have been a swell place” She gasped as she glanced at her wristwatch, “I gotta go, been nice speaking with ya’ mister Zenith!”
I chuckled, “Just Zenith is fine, don’t let me keep you from your job” The woman summoned her wings, which matched the color of her uniform and took to the sky, bound for Magiville.
I thought a bit about her second to last words, she wasn’t wrong of course, but the way she said it made me think about home. I may have come to terms with my uncertain future here, but I still wasn’t ready to let go of my desire to seek a way back. No matter how well I appeared to fit into this society and culture, nothing could change the fact that I was a foreigner at heart, tainting this wonderful world with my bitter cynicism. I might have been a bit harsh on myself, but I just couldn’t see this world of love and friendship changing who I fundamentally was on the inside. I set aside my philosophical grievances and ran upstairs to complete my morning routine. After a full week of straight up gargling Apple flavored mouthwash, Honey flavored tasted like the nectar of the Gods…or more accurately the nectar of flowers collected by bees and turned into the aforementioned flavoring.
‘I have a strange tendency for deconstructing my own analogies sometimes’ I mused as I swished the liquid back and forth between my teeth.
Once I felt like I wouldn’t wilt flowers with my morning breath, I returned downstairs to open my letter and get a peek at the contents inside. The envelope itself had a waxy seal on the flap that was stamped with some official looking symbol for ‘Cloud Homes Incorporated’. I popped the stamp and pulled out the lengthy looking letter inside, only it consisted of a small dictation addressed to me and a whole bunch of advertisement material promoting custom additions one could make to their cloud house. The ads were essentially the equivalent of paying extra money for bells and whistles that I’d probably use once and then forget about, the temperature regulated Jacuzzi was a tempting option though.
I expeditiously read through the note written to me, finding out that the CEO of the company himself wrote it, telling me that I was put on an express VIP list and that I could proceed to take delivery of my new home at my earliest convenience. The only catch was that I’d have to come in person to their headquarters based in Stratopolis and advise on where I wanted it delivered and what designs I had in mind for its overall shape. I figured that I should probably leave first thing once Fluttershy returns from whatever craziness she’d put up with involving Discord. Speaking of which, I had to attend to cleaning up the mess the nocturnal animals had made of their food trough as well as write some correspondence to Crystal using the bottled Dragon fire the Princess so graciously provided me with. I was very grateful that the creatures in the cottage were house trained, I would have blown a gasket if I had to clean up after their droppings as well.
A short but tedious amount of time later, I had finished morning chores and had brewed myself another steaming cup of soothing herbal tea. The animals roaming about here and there felt content enough to leave me in peace on the couch, but boredom began clawing at me soon enough until I finally snapped and grabbed the coverings holding my guitar and unlashed them before pulling out my instrument and memento of Octavia. I didn’t want to cause a racket in the house so I tried thinking of some more subdued songs, anything to keep my mind occupied.
The various open door birdcages hanging from the ceiling gave me an idea of where to start, my fingers began plucking the opening notes to a little song called Blackbird. I didn’t feel like singing the lyrics to this one, instead just permeating the air with gentle sounding acoustics before seamlessly transitioning into the first song that I ever taught myself to play, which was Yesterday. Before long, I had gathered a sizable audience of inquisitive critters wanting to see what all the hubbub was about. I paid them little mind, this was a precious opportunity for me to de-stress and unwind and I was going to make the most of it come hell or high water. I lacked the vocal uniqueness that Sir Paul McCartney’s voice lent to this song, but I like to think that I added my own distinct flair to it by just being myself. I thoughtfully hummed the last notes as the song came to a tentative close.
“That was…simply enchanting Zenith, even if it was a little melancholic” A familiar soft spoken voice extoled from next to me, I had been so absorbed in the music that I didn’t even notice Fluttershy enter her home and sit next to me.
I glanced around, seeing multiple glassy eyes as the animals who were listening struggled to keep their composure, “Sorry, I didn’t even know I had such a captive crowd, would have played something happier if I did”
“Don’t apologize Zenith, music like that comes from the heart. Expressing ourselves like that is perfectly natural and something you should never feel ashamed of”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it came from my heart, but that’s a lovely axiom to abide by none the less” I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes for some reason.
I felt her put a hand on my shoulder, “Zenith…look at me” I obeyed, staring into her breathtaking light blue irises, “I know that you’re hiding great hurt inside. Remember what I told you the night we used the elements on you?”
I nodded, “You told me that if I ever needed someone, you’d always be there” She hummed in the affirmative.
“I’ve seen how you interact with the people in your life, you’re always trying your best to establish cordial relations with them. But at the same time, you don’t seem to really trust anyone with who you actually are behind the mask you put on, and I know a few things about hiding behind a mask of sorts” She said as she looked to the side, her long hair flowing over and covering her eyes in emphasis.
She paused and nervously bit her lip, unsure about what she was about to say, “Is Zenith even really your actual name?”
“What makes you think otherwise?” I said, marveling at how quickly my identity had been unraveled by the unassuming animal caretaker.
“Whenever I call out to one of my animal friends or even my true friends, they always acknowledge it with singular purpose, as if the acknowledgment of their name is a trigger for their meaning in life. Whenever someone calls out your name… you’re really only half there for the response” She commented on her observations.
“I forgot how insightful you are” I remarked, stifling a disappointed sigh, “It’s not my birth name, Zenith is just a moniker I use to avoid attracting any unwanted attention” And also because real names have power, exponentially so in a world filled with magic, but she didn’t need to know that.
“I won’t question your reasons for doing so, but if it’s not too much to ask…could you tell me your real name? I Pinkie promise I’ll keep it between us”
I raised a hand and interrupted her before she could do the motions, “A regular promise will do Fluttershy. Besides if we bring Pinkie into this, how will it still be between us?” We both chuckled and I felt the atmosphere cheer up a little.
I leaned towards the dainty woman (the close contact causing her to heat up slightly) and cupped a hand around her ear before whispering to her something I haven’t even shared with the Solar and Lunar diarchs.
She beamed benevolently, “That’s a nice name, I’ve never heard of anything remotely similar to it aside from those of the Gryphondrian people” She bowed her head to me, “Thank you for sharing this with me, and taking care of my animal friends while I was away”
“Just reciprocating the kindness you’ve shown me” I smiled (the closest I had to one) back to her.
“So how was your time with Discord?” I inquired, legitimately curious as to what constituted an outing with the nigh insufferable bureaucrat.
Her turn to sigh, “It was…interesting, to say the least. I got a little dizzy with the inverted gravity and chocolate milk rain though”
‘Pobrecita’ I thought sympathetically.
“You two talk about much?”
“He did mostly, while I listened. He doesn’t exactly hold our political or governmental system in high regard. He usually rants about how its one of the few cosmic jokes that even he couldn’t find any humor in”
She ran a hand through her plush hair and twisted the ends with a finger, “I know I’m probably the only friend he has, but I really wish he could make nice with everyone else. It’s taxing enough to put up with him for an whole hour, let alone an entire day” She confessed, sounding abashed to her own understandable peevishness towards the detestable man.
“If I could, I would gladly relieve you of that burden. But the man and I don’t really ‘mesh’ together well, if you catch my meaning” I interlocked my fingers to support the metaphor.
“You never did tell me how you both knew each other” She said, perplexed by my association with the chaotic cretin.
“We don’t…not really, he just asked me to deliver his mail to you. Other than that, he’s a little too obnoxious for my taste” Which is yet another reason I can respect Fluttershy for putting up with him as a good friend.
I got up from my seat and curtly excused myself before making a break for the kitchen where I stored the flower that I had kept as a gift for Fluttershy. Returning to the living room where the woman was currently petting her beloved pet Angel.
“May I?” I asked, gesticulating to my hair what I intended to do.
She seemed confused at first but nodded her assent; I stooped down to insert the stem of the pink plumeria in the nook between her right ear and examined the result. She looked positively stunning (even more so) with the flower in her hair, it’s a shame the violent lengths I had to go through in order to obtain it.
“It’s such a pretty looking flower Zenith, where did you find it?” She asked, looking into a pocket mirror that she must have kept with her.
“On a tree that was growing in the Neverfree” I answered truthfully (and in rhyme), I had no idea how such a tree did exist in that forest, but I’ve learned not to question too many things lately.
She gasped almost inaudibly, “Why would you feel the need to go inside such a dangerous forest!? There are so many things out there that could hurt you!” She exclaimed worriedly.
I chuckled somewhat darkly, “Not if they know what’s good for them they won’t. And I merely felt compelled to take a nature walk last night” I fibbed, glimpsing at Angel and soundlessly notifying him that his slip up was to be our little secret. He nodded thankfully and kept quiet while nuzzling his mum. Fluttershy didn’t look like she approved of my dangerous habits, but kept her misgivings about it to herself. I decided to change the topic to something more pressing.
“May I ask a service of you?”
“Of course you can Zenith” She courteously replied.
“Would you mind terribly if I were to leave my things here for a little while? I have business in Stratopolis that requires my direct presence” I explained to her.
“About your cloud home?” She astutely inferred.
“Correct, your memory is unerring as always” There she goes hiding behind her hair again.
“I would gladly watch your belongings for you while you’re away, just like you’ve watched over my wonderful animal friends for me” The animals that were still in the room nodded and voiced their agreement.
“Like I’ve implied, I did it readily and it was my pleasure in doing so” I bowed in a dramatic fashion, “I’ll be off then, see ya around Fluttershy!” I spoke over my shoulder as I exited out the front door.
Now came the small matter of traveling to Stratopolis, it wasn’t too hard to miss since it lay just off the mountain where Concordia was perched and just above the cloud layers. But I also couldn’t just take off now for fear of another Valkyrian who saw me at the party finding out that I was a Trifect and blabbing about it to all of their friends. I snorted derisively to myself, how could such a simple action such as surprising the people who attended a surprise party for me put one of my feet in a figurative bucket? I needed to find someone who could tell me the best spots for flying unnoticed, I needed…
“Hit the deck!” An incoming and not so far off raspy voice screamed at me.
‘Rainbow Dash! Perfect timing!’ I grinned.
Instead of doing as she said, I whirled around to see the rainbow haired girl zooming towards me in a nosedive like a speeding bullet. I cast an inertial dampening spell into my body and prepared to catch her, I had to adjust my stance to take her roughly fifty-degree angle of descent into account. It worked brilliantly, instead of plowing into me where we would arguably end up in an unflattering position of one straddling the other. I acted like a baseball glove and prevented another notch on Dash’s crash landing record.
“Howdy Rainbow” I said to the woman who I was currently cradling in my arms, she stuttered something and pushed off of me. A reddish tinge highlighting her cheeks, Rainbow wasn’t tactilely bashful was she?
She recomposed herself soon enough, “Howdy? AJ hasn’t been rubbing off on you has she?” She quipped as she dusted herself, unaware of how I interpreted her question. We shared a shower stall together for cripes sake!
‘Damn it! Why do I have to have such a sexy imagination?’
“Applejack isn’t the only one entitled to use lingo like that every now and again now is she?” I dryly retorted; feeling a little miffed that Rainbow would even imply that I was conforming in any way, shape, or form.
“So aren’t’cha gonna ask what I was attempting to do before you so heroically caught me?” She asked after a half-minute pause where she did some stretches and checked for strained muscles. She looked just like one of those girls who were crazy about fitness: wearing cyan sport shorts with a tank top that hugged every inch of her lithe form and possessing an aura that bolstered those around her to feel electrified.
“No” Was my short response, to be honest I couldn’t really care less.
She looked vaguely insulted at my brusqueness, “Well I’m telling you anyway!” She assumed a dramatic pose, “So there I was, soaring through the air like a pro! On my epic quest to join the Wonderbolts team of elite aerialists, of course, in order to impress them I had to make sure my triple corkscrew Buccaneer Blitz with a reverse Thunder run that ended in a loop was flawless” She narrated with great enthusiasm, she was just that passionate about flying I guess.
“I’m assuming that the loop part was where you lost control” I cut in, not really interested in her flight routines at the moment.
“Hey I could have handled it! You just happened to be in the way was all” She grumbled to herself.
“I’m sure. Say Dash, would you happen to know any spots where I could stretch my wings without anybody seeing them would be?”
“Why are you asking?” She tilted her head at my conspicuous tone.
“I’ve got an errand that I have to run in Stratopolis but the only way to reliably get there is with my wings…which I can’t use in open sight if I want to keep my special identity unknown to the public”
“What sort of errand?” The nosy girl pressed.
“Remember how Twilight said that the Princesses commissioned me a cloud home?” She nodded after a moment’s recollection, “Well I have to show up in person to ‘claim it’ so to speak”
“Awesome! Hey can I come? I was born and raised in Stratopolis and I haven’t been back in a while. I could show you around to see all the cool sights if you like” She energetically offered, I supposed that she could come…
“I wouldn’t mind the company I guess, provided that you know where we can take off in peace”
“I know a great spot for that, follow me!” She went airborne and shot off into the distance, a rainbow colored trail left in her wake.
I stood in place and tapped a foot impatiently for thirty seconds before she returned, a slightly sheepish look on her face, “Right…you can't fly there with me” She groaned in frustration, “We’ll walk I guess…”
We did so, Dash powerwalked while I was internally rejoicing that I’d finally found somebody who could match my casual strolling pace.
She led me to the Magiville water reservoir that they used to pump water up to the Stratopolis weather factory by creating a special kind of cyclone that ferried the streams of water up to a collecting depot on the lower levels of the city, as was elementarily explained to me by Rainbow.
“Ugh! Finally we’re here!” She shouted, sounding unhappy that she couldn’t just fly here.
“What’s your rush?” I calmly criticized the impulsive woman.
“Look, I just hate feeling slow. Its such a drag” She said as she slid a hand down her face.
“You shouldn’t rush through life feeling that way, you might miss some important things on the way” I loved being fast too, I just didn’t obsess over it.
“Bah! You sound just like some of my friends, I’ll keep getting faster until everyone on the planet knows it!”
“Okay speedy, do you know the way there? I’ve never been there as you can clearly see”
She smirked and cracked her knuckles together (which I noticed were covered with fingerless gloves), “Yeah I know the way, assuming you can keep up that is” She swiftly summoned her wings and darted into the sky blue yonder.
I muttered something impolite and chased after her. Even if I had a good deal more practice with my wings, I doubted that I would be able to catch up. I could try supplementing my flight with my magic, but I’d have to get pretty creative. I was struck with idea and promptly went to work casted a duo of spells, the first would be casting a field around myself that minimized drag almost completely while the second reversed the effect of gravity on my being. By doing so, I had essentially become like ‘greased’ lightning, skyrocketing at an ever-increasing speed until I was hot on Rainbow’s tail. The wind shear was negated by my friction shielding, so I didn’t even have to worry about teary eyes or getting that windswept hair look that I had seen many a Valkyrian male sporting. I slowly decreased the effect of the reverse gravity spell so that I wouldn’t overshoot Dash and get lost in the rapidly darkening clouds.
We powered through the masses of precipitation for a good five minutes, I had very little idea of how fast we were going and without clear view lines of the ground, I couldn’t tell how high up were either. The air became thinner and a good deal chillier, although this did not deter Valkyrian physiology, which processed oxygen more efficiently and offered greater insulation from the cold as compared with the other two clans. With a final burst of speed, we broke loose from the storm banks below and emerged within sight of the magnificent floating city of Stratopolis.
‘Hallelujah’ I was beginning to get a little claustrophobic being cooped up with Rainbow back there, who while visibly damp, looked ecstatic as she laid eyes on her hometown once again.
Even at a distance, the central city of the Valkyrians was a phenomenon to behold. Up close it was grand enough to fill your head with wonder. Waterfalls of authentic water and prismatic fluid cascaded down the outskirts of the city and fell to the Earth below in a fine glittering mist. Columns reminiscent of Greek and Roman architecture speckled the city’s skyline and looked immaculate in the light of the day. It was like looking at the identical twin of Disney’s Olympus but without the mountain. I saw both people and airships flying about the many airways that conducted traffic in and out of the hovering metropolis like flocks of birds in migration.
I whistled in appreciation, “That’s a hell of a view”
Rainbow gave me an impressed sidelong glance, “Managed to keep up huh? I don’t see why you’re so nervous about a friendly race if you can play follow the leader with the best of ‘em”
“Because I’m not really a competitive guy, I fly at my own pace. It just so happens that my pace can match yours when it needs to” I smirked in reply.
She scoffed, “Whatever you say. C’mon, the place you’re looking for is in the Nimbus district which is about mid level”
We soared in the direction of the big ‘Cloudiseum’ that had its own platform on the Northwest end of the city. Even though the city was composed of multiple platforms of cloud bunched together, they didn’t drift up and down against each other as I had imagined they would, everything was stationary for the most part. People who were walking amongst the clouds and conducting their business genially waved to us as we passed on by. I noticed a good deal of similarities and differences regarding this city and Concordia. The first and foremost being the fashions of the upper class, which looked a lot like those of the Roman aristocracy with long flowing robes and sashes of varying coloration. These people seemed less uptight though, actually having their eyes open and their noses parallel to the ground they were ambling on. Ships suspended by gaseous envelopes via lines and lines of rigging passed overhead as the sound of propellers chopping at the air filled my ears. The more I saw of this dreamlike place, the more fascinated I felt myself become.
It wasn’t much of a wait until we reached the location of ‘Cloud Homes Incorporated’. It seemed to have a rectangular layout, stretching back till it cut off just before the ‘Cloudiseum’. We landed on the puffy looking sidewalk just before the steps leading into the facility and scattered some of it to the wind, despite that, the floor more or less remained intact.
“I thought normal clouds disperse with enough of an impact?” I thought out loud.
“They do, but Stratopolis wouldn’t last as long as it has if it wasn’t built using Cloudcrete. Its what allows for structures made of clouds to stay malleable but durable enough so that simple things like impacts won’t destroy them. It also allows for regular structures to be built on top of them” Rainbow explained, acting as my unofficial tour guide of the municipality where she was born.
“So then anything that’s built of regular material here is technically a superstructure?”
“This is Stratopolis! Everything here is super in my opinion” Rainbow exclaimed with pride, completely missing my point.
We climbed the short stairway permitting entrance into the corporation and were met with a circular lobby that was made of marble. A wooden desk with a receptionist writing something was the only furnishing in the chamber, the scribbling of a quill against parchment filled the lobby.
I approached slowly and intentionally made my steps louder so she’d hear me coming. She stopped whatever it was she was doing and looked up at me.
“How may I help you sir?” She spoke with reserved tone.
“Hi, I recently received a letter from your company’s CEO informing me that I was to come here in person to finalize the designs of the cloud house that was commissioned for me?” I took out the letter and showed her the official insignia stamped on the bottom, along with the CEO’s fancy signature.
Her eyes widened as recognition dawned on her features, “Ah…you must be Zenith then! When mister Barometer told us that we received a special order from the capital, I could hardly believe it!”
She smiled for the first time, “But here you are! I'll notify the Foreman…” She finally saw Rainbow Dash, “Miss Dash? Are you also here to see your father?”
“Sorta miss Snowflake. You see, Zenith here has never been to Stratopolis, so who better to show him around than me!” She pointed a thumb to herself, getting a giggle out of the receptionist.
“True, very true” She admitted as she turned to me, “As I was saying, I’ll notify her father right away that you’ve arrived” She walked down a hallway that accommodated all of the office rooms. I was busy processing the fact that the Foreman and Rainbow’s father were the same man.
“Your pops is the Foreman of Cloud Homes Incorporated?” I curiously asked the girl with the colorful hair, who shrunk back somewhat at the question and inattentively rubbed at her left arm.
“…Yeah…”
I cocked a brow, “And you neglected to mention this, why?”
“Must’ve… slipped my mind” Was her half assed excuse.
I shook my head and ignored it, “Whateves… its not really a big deal”
‘Probably explains why she’s got such a kickin’ castle in the sky as a home though’
After a few minutes of waiting, the sound of footfalls reverberating against the stone flooring reignited our attentions. Two people emerged from the hallway, the first of which was miss Snowflake; who returned to her desk, while the other one was an otherwise unassuming looking man (save for the nearly identical locks of colorful hair)
‘Must be a genetic thing’ I mentally shrugged.
He looked all business faced until he saw his daughter, at which point his features lit up with a brilliant smile. His relaxed pace sped up as he joined us, his gaze was concentrated purely on my companion though.
“Rainy!” He swept up his child in a fierce hug, which was only weakly returned by Rainbow.
“H-hey dad, what’s up?” Her meekness was a complete contradiction to her boisterous attitude from before.
He dropped her to the floor again, “Same old same old, ensuring that all feathered folk are satisfied with their accommodations” He said with jesting humility, as though shooting the breeze.
His eyes then met mine; I saw a spark in them that could have been interpreted as either hidden aversion or open hostility. It was the mark of a protective father if ever I saw one.
“Who’s your friend Rainbow? He’s a tall one” He commented, never breaking eye contact.
“You ought’a know dad, he’s the guy your secretary just told you about”
“Of course he is!” He turned to his daughter, “You don’t mind waiting here in the lobby or getting yourself a pastry at the local bakery around the corner while I discuss business with him in my office do you?”
“I guess… I haven’t had a Cloudsdale Cannoli in forever” She mentioned offhand, oblivious to the white lie her father was feeding her.
‘So Cloudsdale does still exist here, in pastry form no less!’ I was aghast at this unexpected revelation.
He gave her an affectionate pat on the back, much to her dismay, “Well that’s no good! Feel free to fetch me one too m’kay?” He started walking back towards his office, gesticulating for me to follow him.
I shrugged to Rainbow and obliged him, following the well-dressed man as he led me down the corridor that had multiple office rooms on both sides. On the windows were the names of the usual occupants etched onto the glass in cursive lettering. The smell of coffee and donuts laced the air as we passed by an employee break room. Rainbow’s father (I didn’t know his name yet) was deathly silent the whole way, likely debating with himself how to handle me without coming on too strong, I was still an important customer after all. We reached the end of the hallway and I was ushered into a completely normal looking office. The walls of the room were adorned with numerous pictures of him shaking hands with significant looking people and also those of Rainbow Dash when she was just a little girl. On his desk was a mug with ‘number one dad’ written on it and a bobble-head of what must have been a Wonderbolt being a typical yes man.
“Please, have a seat” He directed towards a nice looking leather chair as he took his own seat at his desk, watching me like a hawk.
I was going to play this cool, even the slightest detection of fear and he’d probably pounce on me. Even though I had gone against feral Timberwolves last night, there was a crackling ferocity in this man’s eyes that made me wary. I leaned back into the recliner; keeping my eyes level with those of ‘Spectrum Flash’ as the placard on his desk finally informed me.
“Before I go into the specifics of what you came here for, would you mind indulging me a question?” He asked with a neutral tone, as though he was evaluating me.
“I don’t see why not mister Fla…” He cut me off.
“What is your relationship with my daughter?”
I thought of my answer before replying, “She’s a mentor of sorts. I don’t know if she’s told you this, but she and her friends are responsible for teaching me the magic of friendship, as instructed by Princess Celestia herself”
“Rainbow always writes to me once a week, but she’s made no mention of you” He spoke, trying to bore a hole in my skull with his pseudo glare alone.
“Must’ve slipped her mind” I echoed, “I assure you sir, if I was in some kind of romantic association with your daughter, I’m sure you’d be one of the first people to know”
He hummed out loud, trying to discern any dishonesty in my words.
“A question for a question, why are you being so passive aggressive about it?” I shot back, politely of course.
He hesitated at my inquiry, “After her mother and my other brides passed away, she’s become only meaningful thing I’ve got left in this world”
“You didn’t have any other children?” He didn’t even have to answer, that brief flicker of remorse in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
“You’re concerned about your legacy aren’t you?” He finally broke his intense stare and looked wistfully at one of the pictures on his desk, holding it longingly in his hand before showing it to me. It depicted him and a young Rainbow with a flag in her hand at a rally of some kind and a radiant smile on her face. Mister Spectrum Flash had a lot more wrinkles now than he had back then.
“I may not show it too much, but I’m getting on in years. After I’m gone, Rainbow will be the last one bearing the torch of my bloodline. I want to make sure that it is propagated only by the best”
This topic was making me nervous, “I don’t think I’d make a good son in law sir” I tried to excuse myself from the matter.
“Don’t sell yourself short, most suitors are scared off after my ‘passive aggressive’ treatment as you called it. You however, have held firm” He spoke, admiration creeping into his voice for the first time.
“Be that as it may, I’m in a bit of a uncertain spot regarding romantic relationships. But I’ll definitely let you know if I want your blessing should I ever end up courting your daughter”
“I’ll save you the trouble and grant it to you beforehand. Now, onto the matter of business…your cloud house”
I nodded, eager to put this subject behind us, “Right, what do I need to know?”
“I’m not sure how much you know about the construction of a cloud home, but I’ll keep it simple. Our designs are modulated, meaning that each and ever portion of cloud home is prefabricated and assembled together according to the customer’s wishes”
“Neat, probably saves a lot on time on construction if you can just fit building pieces together like Lego blocks”
“I haven’t a clue what Lego is, but I suppose it does. In fact it was my suggestion of that idea to mister Barometer that was what has propelled this company to the forefront of Valkyrian construction workings and myself into this prestigious position. It was certainly a change of pace from my other job”
“Out of curiosity, what job was that?”
He grinned to himself, “Oh…I only used to be the stunt course designer for the Wonderbolts”
“Really?” I quietly wondered if that’s how Rainbow got her obsession.
“You bet! The task of making sure each and every stunt course was unique using the same exact equipment was what inspired me with my fateful idea to begin with” He elucidated, happy to highlight his achievements.
“Huh, you learn something new everyday. So do I just look at a catalog and select which pieces I want to go into my new home?”
“That’s a straightforward way of putting it, but yes. You’ll also need to specify where you want it to be positioned” He chuckled to himself, “Perhaps over the same field that my daughter’s house resides?”
‘Great, now he’s just screwing with me’ I almost preferred the papa wolf attitude, but damned if I do, damned if I don’t I guess.
“I think I’ll pass on that most considerate suggestion. Would you happen to have a map of the surrounding Magiville area?”
“Indeed I do, along with several topographic charts” He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out several articles before handing them to me. I snatched up a simplistic one from the offered pile.
“A regular map will do, thanks” I looked over the map he provided, grateful that it marked the areas where cloud homes already existed, with several clusters of dots in designated areas where the shadows cast by the homes wouldn’t be a problem. I found a nice secluded spot in a glade inside the tamer woods just north of the Neverfree that was sublime for what I wanted.
I tapped the spot I desired with an index finger and presented it to Spectrum, who rubbed at his chin as he considered it, “It’s a bit of a lonely location don’tcha think?” He remarked, revealing himself as another one of those people who placed excessive emphasis on being social.
“Pfft, all bachelor pads should be someplace scenic and free of any interruptions to be found, in my humble opinion” I quipped in reply. I mostly just wanted someplace where I could be alone when I felt like it. The fact that it wasn’t too far from Fluttershy’s was a huge plus in its favor though.
He sighed with begrudging acceptance, “Well, the customer is not to be argued with. I’ll just mark the place where you want it towed on our records before we get down to how you want it assembled” He slid an article towards me that detailed what each module piece offered.
“You were commissioned one of our larger package deals, so that means that you can choose six modules altogether. Take your time deciding, I’ll go get myself a coffee… unless you want one too?” I shook my head, “Suit yourself” He closed the door behind him, leaving me to my deliberation while I reviewed the article.
There were loads of options to choose from, each module being divided into categories and into further subdivisions that showcased variations of a particular room like a kitchen dining room area. All the modules came fully furnished and had an exceptional decade long warranty. The first four modules were for living necessities while the other two were strictly for opulence. I used a pencil I fished from Spectrum’s desk to make notations on a checklist while using the article as a reference. I scratched in my picks just as the foreman returned with his favorite mug that he sporadically sipped from as he sat down again.
“I trust that you’re finding our assortments to be acceptable?” He asked me as I finished marking the paper.
“Its an impressive array of options to be sure” I sent the checklist his way.
“Are you certain? Once construction starts on it, you won’t be able to change your mind” He warned, I assured him that I was sure of my choices.
“Where do they assemble the cloud houses? This facility is too flat for them to do it here” I asked the foreman; I would be remiss if I didn’t indulge my spirit of inquiry.
“You are correct, they use the construction yards right next to the ship harbors”
He rose from his chair and I mirrored his movements, he held out a hand that I grasped and shook, “Pleased to do business with you, I hope to hear more about you in my daughter’s letters in the future”
“Positive things I hope” I replied in good humor and we parted ways shortly thereafter.
I walked back into the lobby to find Rainbow leaning against the receptionist’s desk looking restless. The crumbs clinging to her tank top told me that she made good on grabbing herself that cannoli.
“About time you were done! How hard is it to get buying a house out of the way?” The crown technically covered the expense, but it was semantics really.
“You need to chill Dash, that couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes!”
“I’m the most chill person you’ll ever meet! I just hate waiting”
“I believe there’s a city I’ve yet to explore?” I said, ignoring her complaints.
“I thought you’d never ask! Hey, you want to see the weather factory? As the weather manager for Magiville, I’m entitled to bring a guest with me to tour the facilities”
That was as good a plan as any for me, “Splendid! I would be honored if you were to escort me lady Dashington” I histrionically bowed and motioned for her to lead the way.
She rolled her eyes, “Don’t confuse me for Rarity ya’ wacko, I’m not into that chivalrous hogwash like she is” She said as we left the building.
“You’re right, you’re more into being daddy’s little girl anyway” My comment earned me a slug in the shoulder and a simmering glare from Rainbow.
“You tell anyone about that and I’ll thrash you, got it?” She threatened, her tough girl image on the line.
“Your secret is safe with me…Rainy” She socked me a second time, it hardly fazed this adventurer, she doesn’t punch half as hard as Daring does.
We reached a platform overlooking a unique vista after a half hour of walking slash flying to the eastern end of the city, which was in the Thunderhead district next to the shipyards. A small jaunt across the Cloudcrete bridge and we were inside the mammoth complex. In order to explore the factory floors themselves, we had to don special laboratory coats and wear hardhats to prevent any head injuries from things like falling ice blocks and other hazards. I asked about why they bother with scheduling a winter, the answer being that it allowed for the magic in the soils to replenish so they don’t have to go fallow. I was able to taste the rainbow (the liquefied version), which was an…interesting experience. Dash found it surprising that I’d actually tasted spicier things (Tres habañeros recuerdas?) but shared my appreciation for the sweet and spicy flavor of her namesake. The rest of the tour was sort of uneventful; there are only so many interesting things to learn about how they individually crafted snowflakes. However, the vats filled with fluid cloudcrete were a barrel of fun, especially once I found out that they were non-Newtonian.
“Non new-whatian?” Dash stated with confusion.
“It’s a fluid displaying unusual levels of viscosity” I explained as I took off my shoes (which mysteriously didn’t sink into the clouds and disappear), “…and allows for me to do this!” I tap danced across the surface of the vat and caused the cloudcrete below to jiggle in a humorous fashion.
“That’s actually kind of cool” She conceded, “But the director would have my head if he saw us doing that, so fun’s over”
“Aww… why do you have to be such a buzz kill?” I whined as I stared at the vat of still bouncing fluid yearningly.
“Too many eyes on us and I’ve got to act professional if I want the Wonderbolts to take my application seriously” She answered, crossing her arms together.
“Alright, alright” I relented as I put my sneakers back on, our tour of the factory coming to a close.
We leisurely sauntered along the skywalks in the direction of the shipyards after I had convinced Rainbow to take me there.
“There are so many other places we could see! The harbors just have boring ships. I don’t even see the point of us having them, we have wings after all”
I was not to be deterred, “Because the vast majority of the Royal Arcanian Navy’s vessels are stationed here! You may not find that very compelling, but I do” She groaned but escorted me there regardless.
The shipyards were magnificent, dozens of regular vessels like the one’s I had seen on the way in were embarking and debarking their cargos. But the crème de la crème were the military vessels that were docked in their own section of the harbor. Imagine the ships of the line from the old sailing era but without the masts (they were made from Floatwood) and gigantic propellers attached to the bottom of their hulls. They ranged from many shapes and sizes, from brigantines that were not much larger than the Maverick to first-rate flying fortresses in the sky that were not unlike the English H.M.S Victory in mass and firepower.
One ship in particular however, caught my eye, its hull was painted a light gray with a solid red stripe running down the gunnery line, it also shared the same versatile propellers that were on Daring’s ship but more abundant in number. The ornately decorated wooden quarter gallery had the name Skybex imprinted on it, which was fitting given the winged Capra with curved horns serving as its figurehead. A large flag at the ship’s stern flew in the afternoon breeze, it’s colors were red and gold stripes with the superimposed Mana Marks of both Celestia and Luna at the top left corner. I admired the mighty vessel from afar as I watched smartly dressed sailors scrub the decks to a mirror shine.
“You’re not getting a hard on from this are you?” Skittles rudely remarked as she butt into my daydreaming about manning the helm of the ship and steering it through dangerous waters (or skies as it were) and emerging triumphant.
‘Well that killed the mood’
“As much as I love badass naval vessels, they don’t act as a turn on for me, no” I scowled, freaking women always complaining about men ruining their special moments when they do the same damn thing in return.
“That’s a relief. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you a few things now that we’re alone”
“Fire away” I said in a resentful tone.
“A warship pun, cute” She leaned against the railing that I was using as a hold for my elbows, “So at long last I managed to get my hands on the latest Daring Do novel, and there’s this one character that she teams up with that’s always referred to as the American” I couldn’t hold back a smirk at that, causing Rainbow’s eyes to narrow slightly as she continued her monologue. I didn’t think Daring liked the sound of it that much.
“The book is kinda vague about his background but describes him in plenty of detail as flippant, sarcastic, easygoing, and knew how to handle intense situations. He even saved Daring’s bacon when Ahuizotl was about to do away with them. At first I thought it was just a coincidence since it matched what I know of you to a T”
“Heck, he was the one to turn the tables and kick the villain into the wellspring of everlasting life, the following joke about him being ‘all washed up’ was a tad too corny for my tastes though”
‘I sometimes wish that’s what actually happened’ I derailed that train of thought before it made me broody.
She paused and looked me dead in the eyes, “But then I also remembered that you somehow got the book a week in advance…is there a connection or am I mistaken?”
I didn’t really see the need to lie, “Its not a coincidence, I am the American”
She gasped and went into fangirl mode, “Ohmygosh, I knew it! Did any of that actually happen!? Do you know the author? What’s she like?” She spouted with an energy that could match Pinkie’s fervor.
“Yeah I know her” (‘You remind me of a more reckless speed demon recolor of her’) “She’s brave, likes to laugh in the face of danger, has a mean right hook…”
I sighed as I leaned further into the railing, “…and she’s all woman”
“And you’re dating her on top of it!?” She eeks out an extremely girly squeal of delight before grabbing me by the shoulders and rocking me vigorously, “Oh you gotta introduce me to her sometime, I’m her biggest fan remember?”
I shook my head to clear it of those annoying fuzzies, ‘First Vinyl and now her? What am I, a shake weight?’
“Our relationship is private, I’m not going to go introducing you to her just so you can drool all over her. Besides, she’s out saving the world and possibly won’t be back for a few months” God how I missed her, if I weren’t so strict about my emotions I’d probably have manly tears running down my face right then and there.
Rainbow started pouting at being denied a chance to meet one of her idols, “First you rob me of that wonderful cider and now this…don’t you have any pity?” She actually stooped to using the puppy dog eyes, while those had no effect, her words did.
“Listen Rainbow, I was going to give that barrel of cider to you anyway. I’m just not really one for the drink”
Glee flashed on her face before disbelief took its place, “You could’ve fooled me! I’ve never met anybody who could put away as many mugs as you did. You weren’t even tipsy by the end of it! What are you?”
I gave her a flat stare and answered with flawless deadpan, “A Trifect” She made an O’ shape with her mouth as she realized what an idiotic question she had asked in the heat of the moment.
“He he, that’s right. How silly of me to forget. Thanks by the way, that means a lot to me Zenith” She smiled happily at me, the way the air currents made her prismatic hair billow in the wind was mesmerizing.
I slapped myself on the face once I registered what I was doing, “Better to give it to someone who’ll appreciate it than let it go to waste fermenting in AJ’s cellar” I spoke through my fingers, I’m sure my reaction was met with puzzlement on Rainbow’s part.
I hastily changed the subject, “We should be getting back, as much as I’d love to stay here a bit longer, I don’t want any of Fluttershy’s furry animal friends getting into my things”
“Knowing Fluttershy as long as I have, I’d say you don’t have to worry about it. She’s pretty good at civilizing wild animals, why would you leave your things there anyway?” She asked, arching an eyebrow at me.
“I housesat for her while she was away on an errand” I kept my answer ambiguous, since it was heavily implied that her rendezvous with Discord was something of a secret. I suppose I should feel honored that she’d share it with me even though she hadn’t done so with her friends, then again I did deduce the truth.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna at least see the Cloudiseum? It’s a pretty swanky place even when the Wonderbolts aren’t using it for training”
“Nah, I’m itching to spread my wings and enjoy some airtime on the way back” I didn’t leave any room for argument, doing as I said and grabbing some sky. I supposed that it was accurate to even say I was homeward bound, now that I’ve finally received a place of my own.
I’ve never given it notable thought since I first learned, but flying was truly an enriching experience. Up here, surrounded by an endless landscape of white, one can just feel their worries melting into the ether as their spirits soared. The environment was perfect for someone like me too, it was cool, quiet, and allowed one to be alone with their thoughts as they reached new heights; both figuratively and literally. I looked to my side to see Rainbow gliding alongside me; she didn’t seem to be upset over me abruptly leaving, but I didn’t want her to feel as if I was ditching her.
“Hey Rainbow!” I shouted over roaring streams of wind, “How about a little dare?”
“I’m game! You name it and I’ll show you how it’s done!” She boasted, or was a firm believer in her skills, semantics weren’t terribly important at the minute.
“We'll see about that, I’m challenging you to a game of chicken. Whoever can hold a skydive the longest without pulling up is the winner” She grinned that competitive grin upon hearing the name of the game.
“You are SO on! I’ll go first!” She went into a half inside loop before angling straight down in a nosedive.
I copied her maneuver and went into a furious dive myself, the shrill scream of the wind was whipping at my ears and I had to squint to keep my eyes from leaking. Stratopolis must have been pretty high up, because we held that death drop for a full minute, reaching breakneck speeds that neared the sound barrier. Speaking of which, I saw what looked like static energy building up around Rainbow as a Mach cone started to form. Before long I bore witness to the legendary Sonic Rainboom, seeing a massive wall of colors spreading out in all directions as I fought to keep steady against the shockwave. She reached the ground in no time at all and pulled up just a blades breadth away from the grass. She was good, no denying that…but I was dauntless. After a bout of erudition, I concentrated all of my magic into a supercharged inertial dampening spell to absorb the force of the impact. If Rainbow was playing this for fun, then I was playing for the win. I reoriented myself so that I would hit the dirt feet first.
I collided with the ground with an absurd amount of force, scattering dirt everywhere and creating a sizable crater in the Earth’s surface. Even with my spell, the jarring sensation rattled my teeth and caused this vibrating feeling to resonate inside of my skull. I coughed as I breathed in some of the dust from my borderline suicidal stratagem. I heard Rainbow worriedly shouting my name as I crawled my way out of the newly minted cavity.
“Are you alright!? What the hell were you thinking just crashing into the ground like that?”
Despite how stupid this idea was in hindsight, I couldn’t help a victorious grin from gracing my countenance, “I was thinking…that I won our little challenge”
Her jaw was practically on the floor, “You complete idiot!” She screamed at me, “You weren’t supposed to pull off something stupid that could have gotten you killed!”
“You didn’t really give me any other options if I wanted to win” I calmly retorted as I brushed myself off.
She couldn’t really discount that, “If I had any idea you were that crazy, I would have pulled up sooner” She tentatively spoke.
“It’s sweet that you’re concerned about my safety Dash, but I’m more than capable of looking after myself”
She made that exasperated noise only a woman could make, “You’re unbelievable you know that?” She turned heel and walked back in the direction of town, muttering something about how she hated losing.
I shrugged to myself and made for Fluttershy’s. Dash probably had a point about my foolhardy decision, but I was feeling too upbeat to really pay it any mind. After all, how many people can say that they played chicken with terra firma and won?
Chapter 20: The Science of Soul Sight and Salvation
I spent the night over at Fluttershy’s place since I still had to wait until sometime the day after for my cloud home to be brought in. This was mostly because I didn’t exactly have much in the way of alternate lodging options, unless I felt like sleeping under the stars or at a local inn (not that I knew of any that could keep quiet about my apparent vagrancy in case they attended my welcoming party). And it was partially due to the near infinitesimally low chances of being turned away by the Element of Kindness, it made me feel somewhat jerkish exploiting this, but feeling a little crummy inside was a good sight better than waking up with that chalky feeling on your skin from camping au naturel.
Unsurprisingly, the dainty woman was ever so acquiescent in accommodating me. Angel didn’t so much as raise a single paw in protest over my suggestion that I take the couch instead of the bed that the animal caretaker offered the moment it was sundown. Of course, I imagine that the incident with the Timberwolves had changed the way he behaved around me. Who would have imagined that it would only take a single life-threatening situation for his belligerent attitude against me to do a heel face turn?
After I had left for Stratopolis, Fluttershy had been speaking further with her animal friends over my performance and was very pleased to discover that I performed my duties adequately and without skipping a beat. She tried her best to hide it, but I kept getting this vibe that her opinion towards me would have been unintentionally swayed by how well her patronage received me. I wouldn’t have held it against her of course, I would probably have done the same if I showed her the original Star Wars trilogy, only for her to shrug at the end and say ‘It was…nice’. I don’t think I’d ever look at her the same way or at any of the girls the same if they couldn’t share my intense admiration for that particular saga. That might seem a bit hypocritical of me, but if I had to sum up the stories and mythos I venerated in the highest, Equestria (or Arcania in this case) would place fifth on the totem pole, while that Galaxy far, far away would be at the very core of my afición.
But I’m getting off topic, the contents in the letter that Miss Derpina delivered to me yesterday were thorough enough to inform me that the delivery times for my new abode would be somewhere between eight and ten in the morning. Oddly enough, Fluttershy expressed personal interest in seeing my new home for herself. Perplexed as I was, I didn’t bother asking for her reasons behind her wish. It was probably some kind of innate feminine desire inclined to admire another’s place of residence, or make suggestions on the furnishings and decorations. But who was I to fathom the female mystique? Or I was probably overthinking this like I do for a lot of things.
I had just finished sharing a delicious breakfast of buttered biscuits and tea with my temporary hostess and was fooling around with my stuff in the living room in order to pass the time until the moment was opportune to take delivery of my new quarters. I hadn’t checked the contents of my backpack’s pockets yet and was pleased to find some useful knick knacks, including my jet black handled Balisong. As far as it’s usefulness as a weapon, I was already quite covered in the close quarters department, its only redeeming quality was that it could be easily concealed from those with untrained eyes; something that my enchanted Tantō already had going for it.
Still, it was always loads of fun to burn time simply fanning the knife. I wasn’t able to do anything super crazy with it at first, but I’d say that I had a firm grasp of intermediate moves like behind the eight ball and the Zen rollover. It was strange though, my enhanced senses as a Trifect made it feel as if the handles were swinging out at only a fraction of their real speed. The more intensely I focused on something, the more of a feeling of supreme control I developed over it. It wasn’t long until I was improvising with it, doing tricks involving complex swirls, latch drops, and even aerials where I would catch the bite handle and deftly launch into another set of wrist flicks from there.
‘The Spy has got nothing on me right now!’ I silently declared, as I performed a Hellish that led into another series of rotations as I dexterously juggled the blade between my hands.
“Oh my…is that a knife you’re playing with?” Fluttershy cut into my internal gloating with a concerned look on her face.
I looked into her enchanting blue ocean eyes and flicked the blade shut with a short clacking noise, “This is a little more composite than a simple knife Fluttershy. This…” I held up the handles, “Is a Balisong, also known as a butterfly knife”
“A b-butterfly knife? Why would something so dangerous be named after something so gentle?” She asked as she began absentmindedly rubbing at her Mana Mark, it must have been a common thing for people here.
“Because it’s as deadly as it is graceful in the hands of someone who knows how to use it” I replied, continuing to fan the weapon in one hand and watching as her eyes followed every motion with what could have been fascination disguised as worried opposition.
Balisongs were actually frowned upon by the law back home, but it was permissible to have one so long as you kept it in your home as a ‘display’ item. I suppose I could blame Team Fortress two for me wanting to own my own butterfly knife. Learning a trick to tape down the edges so that I wouldn’t have to suffer as much for any mistakes I made while learning how to use it was also a nice plus. How it found its way into my belongings was beyond me though, I wonder what else was in my pack’s contents that I skimmed over?
I snapped the knife shut for a final time and presented it to the captivated woman, who visibly flinched at my offering.
“I don’t really have a need for this, so I’d like you to have it. Think of it as a token of appreciation for letting me stay the night”
“You want me to have this? But I don’t like having bladed things in my home” She lightly protested, I wasn’t really surprised that she was slightly Aichmophobic, given her gentle temperament.
‘It’s a good thing you didn’t pat me down then’ I had enough sharp material on me to render her catatonic if she caught wind of it.
I shook my head, “I’m not asking you to find a use for it yourself, just keep it on you…just in case okay?” She still looked hesitant, “If it helps, think of it not as a knife, but as a tool for defending yourself if the need ever arises” I placed the closed handles into a front fold on her apron, because I had the feeling that she’d try refusing it anyway.
“Umm, okay” She meekly agreed with a resigned tone and looked down, I felt kind of bad for practically forcing it on her, but it was just as a precaution. Better to have and not need, than need and not have.
I put a finger under her chin and lifted her head until her eyes were level with mine. Giving her my closest approximation to a smile, “Thanks Pretty Bird”
Her cheeks briefly lit up at the new nickname, “P-Pretty Bird?” She asked with flushed complexion.
“Its just something that popped into my head. Probably had something to do with the way you were tending to that nest of blue jays earlier. You have beautiful wings you know that? You should display them more often” I complimented, fully aware of the Valkyrian centric romantic undertones behind such a flattering statement this time.
She retreated behind her pink cascades, but I could spot the small smile concealed behind the silky veil, “W-what about you? I rarely get to see what you look like with your wings” She countered, drawing the focus away from her. She had a good point though.
“That’s probably because I’m still getting used to having them, I wasn’t born with ethereal wings you know” I explained with a chuckle, suddenly realizing that I was lacking in my flight hours versus my hours spent using magic. I’d have to set aside some time for some leisurely flying sometime, away from prying eyes of course.
“You weren’t?” She spoke, tilting her head in confusion.
“I explain all about my origins eventually, when the rest of the girls are there to hear it” I dismissed with a wave of my hand, I didn’t feel like having to explain myself more than once.
“Oh, okay” And with that, things were mostly quiet in the cottage again.
Geez, Fluttershy responses were very limited when we weren’t talking about something that interested us both. But I wasn’t really a chatterbox myself by nature, so I spent the remaining thirty minutes I had until it was time to explore my new house mentally reviewing new ideas for spells and modifications to existing ones. I can’t express just how great it was that most magic relied simply on force of will and input of energies, but I felt as if there was more to it than that at times. Whenever I cast spells that were beginning middle tier in complexity and power requirement, I was certain that I could see glowing shapes and symbols in my mind’s eye. I’d have to look into that sometime, likely Twilight had a whole collection’s worth of material that could answer my questions; I could probably pick up some new ideas for spells too.
My ruminations were broken when Fluttershy, who had actually been sitting beside me on the couch the whole time (and lost the apron), tapped my shoulder in a tentative motion.
“Uhm…Zenith? It’s already half past eight, should we get going?” She said, pointing towards the grandfather clock that she kept in the corner of her living room.
“I suppose so. What about your animal’s feeding schedule? It’s at nine sharp isn’t it?” I asked, still wondering why in the world Fluttershy was so interested in seeing my new digs.
“I’ve already set up their troughs for them, everything else shouldn’t require me for the next hour or so. Angel has lived with me long enough to know the routine by heart, so he acts in my stead when I’m gone for short periods of time”
“I see… well they’ve been instructed to deliver it in a open glade just north of here, but unless you feel like going for a risky walk through the Neverfree, it’s best if we fly there. Are you okay with that?”
She smiled at me and nodded, “Of course I am Zenith! As long as we don’t fly too high, I’m not very good with heights” She said with an anxious titter and stroked at her hair, something that seemed to be the nervous tick for a lot of women around here with magnificent long flowing hair.
“No higher than the clouds Pretty Bird, I promise” She let out this adorable ‘eek!’ noise and hid behind her hair once more. I was starting to like my new nickname for her. It was both endearing and amusing to see her reactions to it.
“To alleviate any other fears you may have about our travel means, I’ll be sure to fly by your side the entire time” I’d even go so far as to hold her hand the whole way, as long as she flies with me.
“B-but I’m so slow, you’ll really wait for me?” She asked with an embarrassed tremor in her voice, was she still fearful of being judged harshly?
“I’m not like Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy. I don’t get these impatient twitches like I’ve got to make a run to the lavatory when I don’t do something in a quick manner” I remarked with an amused chortle, something that was shared by Fluttershy, who likely noticed the same thing about her longtime friend.
“It’s not like I’m in any particular hurry to get there anyway” I said with a shrug, “Besides, it’s a lot easier to enjoy the scenery when you take it low and slow” I got off the couch and offered an inviting hand to pink haired woman, who accepted it graciously.
I took us both outside into her garden, busy with animal activity that was to be expected at that time of day. Birds chirped cheerfully from their prefabricated houses and nests, bees were busy buzzing from flower row to flower row, pollinating them in exchange for their nectar, and droves of bunnies (and even jackalopes apparently?) were trimming the grass in an orderly fashion. All in all, it was your typical ‘natural harmony’ scene. It would probably seem picturesque to most, but I just couldn’t appreciate the sense of serenity it failed to fully inspire in me. But then again, I was feeling surfeited after having to maintain this ordered system of nature.
I closed my eyes and summoned my wings. There wasn’t much of a breeze at this time of day, so that surreal feeling of ghostly appendages catching the wind was absent. I spun around and faced my companion with an eager grin, strangely excited for what would come next. Meanwhile she was busy visually taking in my wings with poorly disguised fascination.
“Like what you see?” I shamelessly teased her. She made it way too tempting.
She nodded absentmindedly, never taking her eyes off me, “Uh huh”
“Your turn” I reminded her, to which she stuttered something embarrassedly before complying. Fluttershy’s wings were a vibrant golden yellow that all but glistened in the rays of the morning Sun. I don’t know why she felt so intent on keeping them hidden so often, she was downright breathtaking to look at in her natural beauty.
‘Damn, I’ve got it bad don’t I?’ I internally shook my head; I could act like some love struck schoolboy some other time.
“Lets bid our furry little friends a fond farewell before departing shall we?” She nodded in agreement before whistling for them to gather. It never ceased to captivate me just how well organized these woodland creatures were, who obediently encircled us and listened intently.
“Okay everyone, Zenith and I will be away for an hour or two. So I expect everyone to be on his or her best behavior and listen to Angel, who has your best interests in mind just like myself. Can I expect you to be polite and respectful?” Cue the various squeaks and squawks of general acknowledgment.
“Well, now that’s taken care of. Shall we away?” I shuffled my wings in emphasis.
“M’hmm, are you sure you don’t mind me tagging along?” She asked in a timid manner, hiding an excited smile behind her long hair. It was that impeccable innocence which threatened to breach my nigh impregnable fortress of stoicism and lay siege to the heart buried deep within.
“My dear Fluttershy, it would be an implicit honor to have you at my side while I officially make the Magiville County area my new home” She beamed at my wholehearted response. Even though I was stretching my definition of home quite a bit for this.
From there we took off into the sky, Fluttershy wasn’t kidding when she said that she was slow, we were barely going fast enough to avoid the Valkyrian equivalent of stalling and falling Earthward. Still, I stayed true to my word and patiently flanked the mellow-yellow woman, who alternatively glanced between the ground and myself nervously. I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that said it was going to be all right. It had its intended effect and she visibly calmed down, even gradually increasing her pace as she followed me northward to the glade. It wasn’t hard to miss since it was the only one of its kind in the area. Even at this relaxed speed we reached our destination within a quarter of an hour.
We gently touched down on the calf high grass and I surveyed the immediate surroundings. The glade itself was rather spacious, roughly forty meters in diameter (since this was one of those circular shaped glades). Although my soon to be front lawn needed some work, there were weeds and other forms of dense vegetation everywhere that were both unsightly and emitted natural scents that I found to be undesirable. I wasn’t planning to turn it into demesne or anything, but I’d plan to whip it into shape before long. I hated garden work with an unequalled passion, but maybe I wouldn’t have to subject myself to such torture? Perhaps there was an animate spell out there I could use on some gardening equipment so I could sit back and watch the results with a drink in hand and not a care in the world.
I kept an eye on the sky, since my cloud house was clearly not delivered, we’d have to wait a little while yet. After a quick word, I left Fluttershy to her devices while I launched myself above the canopy to get a better vantage point. As I sat in the crook between two limbs of one of the taller trees I couldn’t help but wonder, how would my cloud home be delivered anyway? Would they push it there manually? (A humorous mental image to be sure). Or would there be some sort of towline they could attach to an airship and just tug it here? My questions would be answered after about another twenty minutes of frivolous waiting. Turns out that it was the latter, I spotted the distinct gaseous envelope of a hauler frigate with the unmistakably sizable silhouette of my new house trailing in the back.
The additional two modules really did add to the size of my new place, looking more like a mansion than your usual Valkyrian abode. It was a strange fusion of cloud like wisps with solid marble structure built above that somehow worked out despite the incredible absurdity of the idea. Magic doesn’t like being told its limits I guess.
Whereas Dash’s place was mostly a singular tower with pools of liquid rainbow flowing out from multiple orifices all around, my place was a little more pragmatic (and less girly). It consisted of a triplicate of round Ivory towers erected at each corner of the curved roof triangular building. In case you haven’t noticed the theme here, I had it modeled after the same mysterious image that was affixed onto the pommel of my Tantō. I felt that the symbolism made for a nice touch, even if it undoubtedly made the interior architecture a bit weird. The main structure had three floors (again, I placed a lot of emphasis on a Trinity) and had those fancy Greek styled pillars that added a hint of class as well as serving as structural reinforcement.
‘Not that I’d have to worry about Earthquakes or anything of the like, Tokyo can eat its heart out!’ I smugly remarked to myself, spreading my wings and taking off to intercept the airship ahead of time.
The medium size airship pulling my cloud house was sparsely crewed, with only a dozen deck hands roaming the forecastle and somebody manning the helm. There was an insignia on the balloon that I had only just noticed now that I was alongside them, depicting an anchor with wings and the initials S.S.S imprinted just below it. The man at the wheel acknowledged my presence with a two finger salute and made a gesture inviting me to come aboard. I did so and being mindful of the rigging, landed on the deck with plenty of style to spare. I assumed that the one captaining this ship would be the one at the controls, so I made my way up the tiny set of steps leading to the tug’s quarter deck. The ship’s helmsman (or more accurately helmswoman, the wooly cap made it hard to tell at a distance, but up close was another story) greeted me in a polite but attentive tone.
“Welcome aboard, I’m presuming that you’re the owner of this luxurious looking new cargo?” She gestured with a thumb back to the towline.
“Indeed…miss?” I asked with an air of charming aloofness. Suave mode was engaged.
She barked out a hearty seaman’s (airman’s?) laugh before speaking again, “No need to be so formal with me! I’m Smooth Sails, pleasure to meet ya’!” She thrust a gloved hand my way, which I proceeded to shake, noting her impressive grip.
I took the time to examine her physically. She was a robust looking woman wearing a navy blue coat with two rows of golden buttons running down the front, along with a pair of white pants. She sported pearl inlaid anchor shaped earrings that glimmered at certain angles. Facial wise, she had a rough exterior from years of sailing that still somehow retained a soft femininity (not that I was checking her out or anything). What little hair wasn’t hidden beneath her cap was a rich turquoise, a color befitting both the sky and the valleys below.
“Call me Zenith, how’s the life of an airman treating you?” I inquired.
“Fair enough, the Stratopolis Shipping Service prides itself on making uneventful deliveries, provides decent pay, and sends me to many an interesting place” She smirked, “Though I can’t say that the outskirts of Magiville is the most scenic of spots to make a delivery run”
I chuckled, “My profuse apologies for boring you, Miss Smooth Sails”
She wiggled a chastising finger at me, “None of ‘at miss nonsense, if I wanted to be treated like some prissy peeress, I would’ve stayed in Steelhatten practicing etiquette and being cooped up indoors like some glorified doll” She said with a slight sneer, clearly this girl had some previous issues with formality.
“A thousand pardons, but what’s an Agrarian doing piloting an airship like this? I thought most preferred working with their feet on the ground” I asked curiously, as this woman lacked a focal gem and her strength was a good indicator of her clan type.
“Most being the key word ‘ere. I should’ve been born a Valkyrian, with how much time I’ve spent navigating these skies” Smooth Sails reflected with another rumbly laugh, meanwhile I was having a heck of a time trying to determine whether she was more masculine or feminine. After some deliberation, I decided that it wasn’t really important.
I directed the focus of our conversation back to the business at hand, “Pleasantries aside, could you try positioning it over the center most portion of the field? Say...around fifty feet off the ground?” I gesticulated with both hands for added emphasis.
She nodded, “Can do. Anythin’ else you feel like specifyin’?” She asked with that odd half accent, like she was suppressing it only for some bits to slip in from time to time. To be honest, her voice felt somewhat androgynous, like she was this world’s version of Mary Read from the fourth Assassin’s Creed. It’s remarkable how often video game references prove analogous to an actual situation (for me anyhow).
“Bring her in calm but steady, wouldn’t want something bad to happen to my new place on the first day now would we?” I said with a smarmy smirk, playing up that rich boy attitude just for acting’s sake.
“Perish tha’ thought! Though while we could be content with you lordin’ over us all high and mighty like, do you think ya can stoop to our level and lend us a hand? It’ll make the transition easier for all of us” She reasoned, taking my jesting in good humor.
“Of course! You didn’t think I stretched my wings just so I could say hello to you, did you now?”
She sighed in faux disappointment, “As if my job weren’t thankless enough” She quietly lamented with a hand on her chest.
She then straightened up and got serious, “Bantering aside, we’ll need an extra set of hands to loosen the ropes keeping your new residence attached to the ship. My crewmates can handle the first two mooring points just fine, but the third line is secured below on a pylon that we humble Agrarian airmen just can’t reach without expending more time. Mind fixin’ that for us with those fancy wings of yers?” She requested with a smile. I found it odd that they sent me a delivery team of flightless Arcanians, but shrugged it off as some kind of oversight.
“I’d happily make both of our lives a little more convenient” With that, I dove overboard and put some wind under my wings.
By now the delivery ship had reached the point I specified somewhere above the general center of the glade and came to a full stop. I made my way over to the third attachment point that was jutting out of a solid point on the underside of the wispy structure. The knot keeping the line attached to the ship was one of those hitch types fastenings, which was essentially a figure eight tied over the ends of the metal horn multiple times over with some more intricate cross ties that made the line stout. I wasn’t really a boy scout, so my knowledge of tying and untying things like this was rather slim.
Thankfully, I had my totally not overpowered magic to assist me in this matter. Channeling the energies through my hands and into the knot, I constructed a spatial image within my mind and immediately worked out the most efficient way to undo the bundle. I decided to forgo just willing the knot undone, wanting to work directly with my hands every so often.
After a brief pause spent wrestling with a particularly stubborn knot, the line was freed from the smooth stone pylon and my new home officially came to roost above the fields below. I took the line back to the towing vessel, which had currently ‘docked’ with my home in order for the Agrarian airmen to disembark and tend to the other two lines that kept the ship in place. I swooped just over the deck and tossed the rest of the line into a spot where it wouldn’t hinder the movements of the sailors still onboard before landing in place next to the ‘Captain’.
“Tha’s some quick work you done there, are you sure ya haven’t served aboard a naval vessel at some point in the past?” Smooth Sails curiously inquired of me as she leaned against the wooden railing and inspected her nails.
“Well, you know how one can tell a true sailor. Every finger a fishhook!” I replied jocosely, still very much aware of the fact that my Trifect nature was something of an important secret.
‘Should I be worried that I readily have a myriad of excuses and casual deflections at my command?’ I introspectively pondered offhand.
“Ha! Haven’t heard that said before, I’ll have to remember that un’” She turned her head and saw they her coworkers had finished untying their own lines and were idly chewing the fat on the job.
She brought a thumb and middle finger to her mouth and let out a shrill wolf whistle before bellowing out to them, “OY! We still got runs to complete ya lazy gits!” The men she was referring to jumped in surprise and scurried back aboard, some having the decency to acknowledge their slip up.
I felt a clipboard being pushed my way by the peculiar woman. I inspected it and found it to be a document of successful delivery. I took the pencil provided to me and signed below in cursive, my signature large and fancy enough to make John Hancock proud.
Smooth Sails again offered me a hand (without gloves this time), which I gently shook with my free one. I noted with interest how hers wasn’t nearly as calloused as I expected it to feel. In fact, they were actually quite soft; perhaps she wasn’t as tomboyish as she led others to think.
The woman in question gave me a cheery smile as I handed the clipboard back to her, “Pleasure doin’ business with you. On behalf of Cloud folk everywhere, I hope you find yer new domicile to your liking” I found it faintly amusing how she made no visible distinction between Cloud folk and herself.
She continued, her smile shifting into a sly grin, “Now don’t take this the wrong way, but would ye kindly throw yourself overboard?”
I scoffed to myself at this woman’s brevity, “Only for you Smooth Sails, only for you”
I didn’t wait for her doubtlessly carefree response, doing as she asked and back flipping over the railing before using my wings to descend to the ground Batman style. The telltale thwoping sound of propellers above notified me of their impending departure, even though they probably couldn’t see me, I cordially waved them away. After my impromptu farewell, I made my way over to Fluttershy, who was crouched down and mutedly speaking to what appeared to be a family of field mice. Even seeing it firsthand, I couldn’t help but marvel at how soft spoken my companion was. I didn’t consider it a weakness, far from it. For it was the meek, in my opinion, that would someday inherit the Earth. And who better to take care of it, than benevolent people like her?
I quietly crept up to them until I was right behind her, listening to the hushed conversation she was having with the tiny rodents. One of them noticed me and squeaked to its brethren before they scampered off into the dense vegetation like an organized troop. I winced at Fluttershy’s nearly imperceptible sigh of dismay. Perhaps I should have just given them their space. I suppose I wouldn’t be able to put my yard to the weed whacker’s blade, now that I knew that the fields here were inhabited.
“Sorry Shy, guess I scared them off” I apologized, though she gave me a forbearing look telling me that it was fine, though her brow did rise at the spontaneous shortening of her name.
“Its okay Zenith, they were just about to go foraging for food anyway” She rose from her spot and gazed upon the latest structure to grace the skyline.
“Is that what your new home looks like? Its so…big” The silently impressed way she said that triggered some questionably salacious thoughts, much to my chagrin.
‘Dammit brain, what’s wrong with you?’ I berated myself, now wasn’t the time for sexy thoughts!
I snapped myself out of my funk and flashed my wings out, “If you think its spectacular from down here, wait till you see it up close. Feel like joining me for an exploratory tour?” I offered, to which she nodded and followed me into the air.
We landed on my front ‘porch’, which was more like a smooth pier with the way the elongated section of cloud extended out from the steps leading into my newly acquired abode. If I thought my cloud home was large looking from afar, up close it was downright monstrous! If I had to estimate square footage at first glance, I’d say that my new place was easily eight thousand square feet in living space. The entrance area felt like a combination of the Parthenon and another building who’s name escaped me at the time. The front structure consisted of several intricately carved marble pillars of the utmost craftsmanship, as well as arches with several symbols and figures that I couldn’t recognize depicting scenes from various points in Arcania’s past.
All in all, I was thoroughly satisfied with the first impressions my new home was making on me; only time would tell if it kept my attentions. I strode up the stairs with a somewhat giddy bounce in my step and to the anterior doors. Placing my hands on the knobs while offhandedly wondering if I needed house keys, I twisted the nodules and pushed the portals open. Inside, the sight of twin winding staircases greeted us; the walls they hugged against had complex engravings that flowed with an artistic style reminiscent of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, (Only with wind currents and birds of prey instead). The stone tile floors were crafted with dark streaks of black marble inlaid to add to the accents. The ceiling above was painted in the Royal colors of the capital with the combined Mana marks of both Diarchs were imposed upon the center, making me wonder if there was some kind of subliminal messaging going on here.
We had only just scratched the surface and already I was floored by how much detail was put into this building for a supposedly prefabricated structure. This was the kind of opulence you’d expect when entering a castle or a really fancy hotel. The fact that I would be seeing this on a daily occurrence struck a strange chord within me, it wasn’t that I was unused to seeing such luxury, but I had never really been the type to lavish myself with ornate architecture and shimmering crystal chandeliers that entranced whoever stared at it for too long.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a magnificent looking home, and we’ve only just started” My companion spoke with wonder in her every word.
“Yeah it is. This place would be fit for a…Prince” I finished lamely, remembering how much I dreaded the mantle of responsibility that would one day be placed upon me.
“Is something wrong Zenith?” Fluttershy worriedly asked of me, sensing the distress in my voice.
I waved away her concern, “It’s nothing, I’m just thinking about the future and my place in it is all”
“Are you afraid of taking your place alongside the Princesses?” Fluttershy accurately surmised, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“Fear isn’t the right word, doubtful is closer to the mark. I’ve never considered myself to be a leader of men, Fluttershy, but there will come a day when I will have others looking to me to guide them through turbulent and uncertain times. And when that day comes, I can only hope that I will be ready to do what needs to be done in order to protect those I care about” I heaved a sigh and glanced upward, lost in my musings.
“You sound like you been thinking about this for some time, how long has it been troubling your spirit?” The Element of Kindness never strayed from my side, only gravitating closer as she detected an unsettled soul that needed to be reassured.
I shook my head and leaned against the doorway, “Since before I met you, Fluttershy. I’m not at liberty to discuss the exact reasons why I have this burden foisted upon myself, but its portents do not bode well for our collective health” I regret to say that my droning voice only made it seem gloomier.
Despite my reticence, the woman projected a patient smile, “I understand Zenith, but remember that the girls and I are here for you…and as your friends, we’re sworn to uphold and support each other no matter the obstacles we face”
“I’m touched that all of you feel that way, and I promise you that one day things will be made clear to all of you” I got back to my feet and stood straight, “For now though, lets make sure my house is in order first”
We progressed past the flashy foyer and further into the first floor, a combined dining room and kitchen combination awaiting us in the next compartment. This was probably the most casual looking of what I had seen so far. Both the kitchen and dining quarters came fully furnished with all the necessary essentials (all it was missing was a large flat portrait of me in a regal pose mounted on the wall really). The triangular shape of the building meant that the kitchen was situated on the left side and the dining room on the right, with no divider or wall partitioning the two.
I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how the devices in my place were receiving their power, there were no wall outlets or anything of the sort anywhere. Things like ceiling lamps and refrigerators did have these curious crystalline features though, and I do vaguely remember that crystals functioned a lot like magical batteries here. Barring that, the sheer normality of it all was actually quite comforting. It helped that the arched windows offered a nice view of the surrounding forests too.
“Thoughts, feelings, opinions?” I directed to Fluttershy, who was busy inspecting a vase of fake flowers with open distaste.
“Oh! Its…a very nice looking kitchen area” The lack of enthusiasm in her voice was staggering.
“You don’t approve do you?” I raised a brow. She was almost as bad at lying as her cowgirl friend.
“Well…this vase needs real flowers, the mahogany dining table blends into the floor coloring, and the positioning aesthetics are all wrong” She explained with a sheepish grin.
“Wow, maybe Cloud Homes Incorporated should hire you on as a consultant for interior decorating” I quipped, making her flinch in response.
“Sorry” She murmured as she set the vase back down on the table.
“Don’t be, I did ask for your opinion after all. Besides… I’m a guy, what would I know is best regarding these things? Though I would have pegged Rarity as being a more meticulously minded person, not you. No offense” Then again, Fluttershy’s knowledge of sewing nearly matches her own skill. There were plenty of hidden depths to this woman, if only others would take the time to see that.
“None taken. It’s actually one of my pet peeves…slipshod furnishings that is. A home should reflect its owner, inside and out. And I keep getting this feeling that this place just doesn’t match you” She slowly explained, I was pleased to notice that she wasn’t as hesitant with speaking her mind loud and clear around me lately. Perhaps she was starting to trust me enough to leave her shell as well?
“I’ll be perfectly honest with you Fluttershy, I would be shocked if I found a place that actually matched somebody with my disposition. This place will serve as my long term lodgings at best, I have this small quirk that prevents me from seeing any one place as where I’d settle permanently” Its been that way all my life really. Even on opposite ends of the Earth, I’d feel this unavoidable need to keep seeing new things and remain in motion. I guess I just wasn’t the settling type. While I could content myself with setting up a home base, that was as far as my permanence extended.
“Why do you say that?” She asked, a questioning glint in her eye.
“Its difficult to explain, just imagine feeling stir craze mixed with an intense desire to see and experience more all the time”
She placed a hand over her lips, “Oh my, I couldn’t stand the thought of feeling restless for so often”
“As long as I keep my mind and body occupied, it doesn’t become a problem. Try and make me sit still and do nothing for hours on end though…” I left it unfinished, the outcome felt obvious enough. That was actually a huge reason why I vehemently opposed becoming a Prince. Be forced to listen to some spoiled noble prattle about something inane for the length of an entire day? No thank you.
“Angel is much the same way” Fluttershy observed with a petite giggle, “He doesn’t know this, but I made him my temporary stand in mostly so that he wouldn’t get into trouble harassing the other animals. The responsibility has definitely made him more dutiful and caring towards his fellows, and the other critters now have someone to express their concerns to when I’m not around”
‘Hmm, I can’t say that gathering followers and teeming up on me within the first five minutes of my house sitting as particularly responsible. But I suppose that it could have been a lot more difficult’ I conceded, Angel and I were mostly cool now.
I was about to respond when I heard a hand rapping against one of the entryway doors. I backtracked to see who it was, discovering my flight partner from yesterday leaning against one of the pillar supports. She was wearing a flight jacket and a tight fitting pair of dark blue jeans this time. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes at Rainbow’s hubris for simply inviting herself in and then choosing to knock.
I chose to greet her in my favorite non sequitur fashion, “Ello’ there Dash, what’s the occasion?”
She blinked at my cockney accent, before muttering to herself about how strange I was, “What? I’m not allowed to check out your new digs? Looks pretty swanky by the way” Her tone was far from dazzled.
“I sense… that there’s more to it than that” I observed, noting that she wasn’t really looking around despite her compliment.
“Well, Twilight also wanted to see you today” She admitted, scratching at the back of her head.
It was my turn to blink, “She does? Whatever for?”
She shrugged, “Dunno, she said that it was fairly important though. Important enough to interrupt my idea scrounging session for my novel at the library and send me to fetch you”
I crossed my arms, a wry grin on my face, “You’re a writer huh? And just what is the plotline of this novel?”
She visibly perked up at the question, “You’ll love it! Its about this awesome Valkyrian who’s the best flyer ever and becomes Captain of the Wonderbolts!” She punctuated the end by jumping into the air and fist pumping.
‘Doesn’t sound like a bland self insert at all’ I monotone to myself.
Up went the eyebrow of skepticism, “Where’s the progression?” I simply asked.
“What?” Was her elegant response.
“Every decent story has some kind of baseline to it, the protagonist comes into their own and then ascends the ladder to awesomeness. What you just described sounds more like a self-indulgent fantasy than a solid novel idea”
Her posture sank as I riddled her vision with holes, an intense scowl dominating her expression.
‘Behold! I am the lord of dubiety! The destroyer of all hopes and aspirations! I will crush all harebrained schemes before they sully the literary world with their foul taint’
She growled to herself and turned away from me, “Well excuse me for being inspired by your adventuress girlfriend! Maybe I just wanted to be more like her you know? Kicking ass with one hand and writing all about it with the other”
“You should be yourself Dash” I calmly retorted, “Daring is badass, no doubt about it. But I doubt that she’s Arcania’s fastest flyer… or the Element of Loyalty”
I continued, feeling a strange need to preach, “Remember that you’re awesome in your own right. To each their own brand of excellence I say!”
She scratched at her head in deep contemplation over my words, “I never really thought about it that way. Maybe you’re right. But what about my novel?” She pointed out.
“If you’d like, I could help you revise it so that it doesn’t sound so Mary Sue-ish. Perhaps make it about a girl who overcomes adversity with firm perseverance and a sharp tongue, trains like crazy to improve her flying skills, and then becomes a master aerialist” I offered, mayhaps I could learn a few things from the experience myself?
“I’d say…that it sounds like a good idea. I’ll letcha know when I’d like your help with it a’ight?” I nodded amicably in reply.
“Oh, and just so you know… my place is still cooler than yours” She claimed with a pompous smile.
“Oh yeah? Well, mine is bigger” I stuck my tongue at her like a juvenile, since she was going to act like one herself.
“Pfft, you boys and your size insecurities” She scoffed before delving further, “Are you trying to compensate for something?” The smile devolved into a shit-eating grin.
‘She did NOT just say that’
“At this rate, I doubt you’ll ever have the pleasure of finding out” I seethed between gritted teeth and clenched knuckles.
“I doubt the experience would be worth my time” She dismissed with a wave of her hand.
“Why don’t you go ask Applejack and see if she agrees with that sentiment?” I impulsively spoke before my brain caught up with what I said. I would have slapped myself for the slip, but it was too late to back out now.
“Dude…you porked AJ?” I couldn’t tell how she felt about the implication, as her face was completely devoid of any emotion.
“I never said that, but what I am saying is that the cowgirl has beaten you in at least one race” My turn to be smug, my choice of words having the intended effect. Rainbow’s face went flush with blood at the thought of losing to her ‘friendly’ rival in any kind of competition.
“I refuse to let that Hayseed beat me in anything!” She stomped a foot and glared at me, “Even when it comes to boys!”
“It’s too bad you’re dealing with a man here, sweetheart” I snidely countered, brazenly seeing how much I could provoke the bull before it charged.
She trudged closer and grabbed me by the collar, forcing me down to her level, “You’re lucky I still remember you giving me claim to the last cider barrel, or I’d floor you right now” She threatened with a hiss, I swore I could see a vein in her forehead pulsing with rage.
‘Not very much it appears’ I found out.
I held my hands up in mock surrender, “Whatever you say darlin’. So how do you intend to win this particular race?”
She let go of me and marched to the door to leave, but not before getting a word in edgewise, “That’s for me to know, and you to find out”
She surpassed the door sill before she spread her wings and rocketed into the sky, leaving behind that signature prismatic wake.
I sighed tiredly, “Geez, she touchy” I commented to myself.
“She’s never been one to back down from a challenge” Fluttershy’s subdued voice uttered from behind me. I turned to see her huddled behind the archway leading into the dining room, doing her best to blend in with her surroundings. My conversation with Dash had gotten a bit loud; I guess she felt out of place.
“Should I be worried about what my foolish words have likely gotten me into?” I asked, legitimately worried about whatever plans the hothead was going to cook up involving me.
She looked off to the side nervously, “Uhm…maybe? She’s always doggedly pursued her goals in the past”
I chuckled mirthlessly, “Wonderful”
I gave Fluttershy an apologetic glance, “Looks like open house is at an end, I’ve gotta go see what your bookish friend wants with me”
“Its perfectly fine Zenith, perhaps we can explore the rest a bit later? You could say that my curiosity has peaked” She giggled girlishly. It took me a few seconds to realize that she made a pun, a faulty one, albeit her soft laughter did prove a little infectious for me.
‘Maybe there’s a good reason why there’s only one Element of Laughter’ The event that elucidated that for me hadn’t happened in this world (thankfully), but Fluttershy’s demeanor was clearly not suited for a comedian’s role.
“That seems like a plan, I’ll even cook for the two of us” I absently racked my brains for a good recipe suitable for a probable vegetarian like her. She couldn’t possibly be vegan. She had a chicken coop for harvesting eggs after all.
“You can cook?” She questioned, looking at me in surprise.
“Yeah…? If my pantry has the ingredients, I can whip us up a mean Capellini Pomodoro” I cocked a brow at her astonishment, is it really that surprising for a guy to know how to craft decent cuisine for himself in this land?
“That sounds quite nice actually, let’s make it a dinner date” She said with no hint of faltering.
“I never expected you to be so forward Fluttershy!” I said with mock shock, making the girl fluster with embarrassment. As amusing as it was to see her squirm in the awkwardness that I had thrust upon her, I wasn’t that cruel.
“Relax Pretty bird, I’d love to have you over for dinner!” I jovially spouted.
She recomposed herself and stared crossly at me, “That was mean Zenith”
She then folded her arms and refused to look at me, “I might have to change my mind~” She teased in a singsong voice.
“Aww c’mon Shy! You know I didn’t mean anything untoward by it” What force of stupidity possessed me to alienate her of all people?
“You’ll just have to make it up to me then. I hear that there’s a special confectionery in Concordia that has the best cheesecake. Stock that in your inventory, and I’ll consider forgiving you” She instructed with an unprecedented grin full of mischievous guile.
I stared at her in shock. Did she just give me a mini quest? Perhaps Discord’s mannerisms had been rubbing off on her.
I bowed and played along, “At your command, my fair lady. I shall retrieve this hallowed dessert and regain your favor once more, this I swear! ‘Pon my sacred honor!” I clapped my forearm across my chest as a gesture of my oath.
She giggled, relishing in the impromptu melodrama, “I’ll hold you to that, Sir Zenith”
‘Better than being a Prince any day’ I opined introspectively.
I resigned myself to go see what Magiville’s premier bookworm wanted, “Twilight better have a good reason for having me check in with her” I muttered impatiently to myself, “I’ll catch you later Pretty Bird” I said goodbye with a short wave of my hand, catching her quiet farewell as I stepped outside onto my cloudy porch.
I took flight and made a low heading for the town, gliding just above the canopy in order to keep my profile to a minimum. I had to admit that keeping my true status a secret amongst the populace was starting to get old real quick. But it was either that, or proclaim to the world at large the existence of a Trifect Prince. And I had an ominous feeling that such an action would cause ripples and repercussions of such scope that even I wouldn’t be able to fully comprehend their ramifications. So being a little secretive would have to be the order of the day. It’s a good thing I valued my privacy so much, otherwise I’d have to actively remind myself that I had such secrets to keep.
My feet found purchase on the dirt paths just on the outskirts of the peaceful village’s county line. I’d have to walk the rest of the way to reach Twilight’s Treebrary and see what the big deal was. So I set down the gravelly road at a leisurely pace, not in any real rush to see what little miss prodigy wanted. I regretted not bringing my IPod with me, but got over it as soon as I remembered that I had the sound sphere spell as a substitute. Since the sounds of Soulwax were bound to draw attention, I modified the spell’s usual matrices until it became more like a set of over ear headphones. I kept the volume at a reasonable level, in case I needed to pick up on any other sounds that demanded my awareness…like a stalking Manticore or something. Not that it would pose a significant problem. I’ve wanted an excuse to test out a focused energy beam spell ever since I saw Luna annihilate an entire formation of armored training dummies using what she dubbed ‘a minor disintegration ray’.
Once more, I found myself taken with the natural beauty around me. The air was refreshing and free of any pollutants, the background vistas of mountains and rolling hills were enchanting to gaze at despite their rustic simplicity, and I now had a pretty kickin’ house overlooking most of that. I may be a sardonic, world-weary cynic, but I could still take the time to count and appreciate what blessings I had.
‘For as long as they stay with me’ And there’s the lassitude that makes moments like these so short lived.
My walk to the settlement only took about a quarter hour to complete. I had to cut through the middle of town since Twilight’s place was located roughly in the center of it all. As with every weekend, the marketplaces were busy with a rush of activity. Good’s were exchanged, bits swapped hands, friendly conversations and smiles were given and received, nothing out of the ordinary really. Although a familiar acne ridden young adult waving invitingly to me from his gadget and tonic stall did seem somewhat important…more pressing than whatever the infamous ‘Sperglord’ had to nettle me about I’m sure.
I sauntered closer to the strangely joyous looking stall tender, “G’morning Gizmo, date went well I take it?” He looked happy enough for such presumptions to be forgiven.
He stared at me a couple seconds before breaking into a snorting laughter as if I had told the world’s most hilarious joke. He used his shirt to wipe the moisture out of his eyes before speaking to me, “The date itself? Complete disaster, I didn’t even think it was statistically possible for that many things to go wrong within the span of an hour. I mean… how the heck was I supposed to know that getting out of my seat to use the men’s room would trip up a waiter carrying an entire tray’s worth of fine wine?”
He sighed in rueful remembrance, “Such a lovely dress of hers…ruined. My suit still smells of Merlot too!”
‘Yikes’
“Oh…I’m so sorry” I began sympathetically. I guess we weren’t buying Carrots from Golden Harvest anytime soon.
He waved it off, “Don’t be, my relationship with Goldy has never been better!” He exclaimed, much to my confusion. He even stole my nickname for her!
‘Knew I should have gotten that copy written’ I groused.
He saw the question formulate in my eyes and answered me ahead of time, “The date was lousy, don’t get me wrong. But Golden Harvest actually had a good time afterwards. She really appreciates my listening skills, and actually finds my brand of humor to be ‘enlightening’. Ain’t I lucky?” He grinningly reported, resting his head on his palm as he leaned against the surface of the stand.
“So you two have formally established ties?” I asked the currently daydreaming Gizmo.
“Hmm? Yeah! We’re set to have another date later tonight, she’s picking the place this time though” He explained. That was one less thing I had to worry about, although I should apologize to her in person for real sometime soon.
“Golden Harvest lives right next door to the Apples yes?” I rhetorically inquired.
“Kinda hard to mistake her house for anyone else’s don’cha think?” He evenly replied.
“A fair point” I conceded, stupid questions deserved sarcastic answers.
“Why do you ask?” He narrowed his eyes at me. Already acting the role of a protective boyfriend I see.
“She and I need to talk about private matters before long” I enigmatically responded.
He looked contemplative for a full minute. It wasn’t like he had any customers waiting in line so he had the time to do so. I however, did not have all morning; I was close to just walking away when he spoke up.
“Normally, I would be very suspicious regarding your choice of words. But then I remembered that you’re the guy who made all of this possible for me, so I’m going to trust that you mean well”
“Thank you for trusting me then” I kept my response curt, hoping he’d get the picture.
“That aside, perhaps I could interest you in some tinctures or widgets?” He hopefully smiled at me.
“Maybe another time, I’ve got somewhere to be” I didn’t stick around for his reply, my idle feet were making me fidgety.
I weaved through the crowds and only halfheartedly returned the friendly waves and verbal greetings I received from the townsfolk. I felt a little bad for leaving Gizmo as brusquely as I had, but I was burning daylight. The sooner I got whatever Sparkle wanted me for over with, the sooner I could get back to exploring my new bachelor’s pad. I spotted the enormous tree towering over the nearby houses and adjusted my course until I found myself standing over the welcoming mat. I knocked first before opening the door and stepping inside.
The interior of the Golden Oaks library was brightly lit, though whether it was mainly because of the light streaming in from the windows or because there were plenty of crystal lamps offering illumination was hard to tell. Even if the rooms were created by hollowing out the tree, the air inside never seemed to smell like anything other than Pine and Redwood (despite this being an overgrown Oak tree). The books (their level of organization notwithstanding) were haphazardly placed against and even atop each other as they sat on the shelves. Something I never noticed before was that the Mana mark of the Solar Monarch absolutely dominated the ceiling. I couldn’t have been certain if Twilight had it painted there in honor of her mentor or if it was some kind of Sigil or even if the previous owner was just a big fan of Celestia.
Either way, Spike detected the knock and interrupted my musings by welcoming me. Based on the pull down kerchief he was wearing, I could only assume that he had been up to some kind of cleaning task before my arrival.
“Zenith, you’re right on time man!” He held out a fist, which I bumped in conviviality.
“Sup Spike? Dash dropped by my place informing me that Twilight wanted to see me…?” I trailed off.
He nodded energetically, “Uh huh! She’s downstairs in the basement right now, running some sort of preliminary diagnostics on her scanning equipment. Clunky stuff too, looks like the same equipment she tried to study ‘Pinkie Sense’ with” His slit reptilian eyes shined with anticipation.
“Better stay clear of any doors then” I quipped, eliciting a chortle of amusement out of Spike.
“Heh, yeah that would be-… Wait, how did you know about that?” He asked, narrowing those same eyes at me. I never crack a joke about things I shouldn’t know about without coming up with an explanation beforehand.
“Is the party girl’s precognition not renowned around here? I’ve heard the stories of her mysterious twitches meaning the difference between receiving a face full of door knob and a hefty crack on the head from a falling object”
My explanation quickly put a damper on the half Drake’s suspicions, and he relaxed his tensed stance.
“That’s right, Pinkie sense is already something of a local legend around here. Even from the time before she became the Element of Laughter”
‘Man, I’m a smooth liar’
“Anyway, you better not keep Twilight waiting any longer. She’s planned a sleepover later tonight and both Applejack and Rarity are coming over” The lavishing of Squiggle-hair’s title did not escape me. It might have been a trick of the light, but I swore I could see a heart shaped glint in both of his eyes at the pronunciation of her name.
‘Hopefully this one will have less squabbling between the country girl and the socialite’ I could practically imagine the events of the first one, sans the equines and add the Human element.
“Perish the thought, I’ll go see what she needs with me right now” I descended the stairs leading to the basement level, hearing the telltale signs of scratching and electronic beeping that indicated a certain librarian in the zone.
The basement was a far different sight than it was the night I stayed here. Various lines and wires were chaotically strung about the place like a certain someone had gone crazy with a can of silly string. Large and boxy metallic devices chimed and chirped as they awaited some kind of input or processed data. The one thing that really caught my eye however, was this curious ring shaped device with rough prongs protruding from the inner lining of the circle. A small part of my mind thought it looked similar to a miniature Stargate, except colored black.
The bookshelves down here were devoted purely to academic purposes, with beakers and flasks filled with sparkling liquids sitting next to shelves of books detailing the intricacies of the magical leylines that ran across the planet, to rows and rows of tomes that did their best to document the human psyche. I filed that last detail away as I carefully stepped over the wires that were positively thrumming with energy. Again, there were no power outlets for them to connect to, so I had to assume that magically charged crystal batteries were powering the devices.
I found the bookworm hunched over a desk skimming through a book whose contents I couldn’t see at this angle. The girl was so absorbed by it that she hardly registered the fact that I was standing behind her until I gruffly cleared my throat. She yelped in surprise and spun around, one of her hands lighting up with some kind of defensive spell before fading away once she realized that it was me.
“You startled me Zenith! Hasn’t anyone told you never to sneak up on a Stellar Mage, I could have accidentally hurt you!” She chided, glaring at me for disturbing her reading.
I scoffed at the notion, “I’m a lot more durable than you give me credit for Twilight, I’ve got a hair trigger reflex too” I countered, crossing my arms together in annoyance. How dare this girl underestimate my situational awareness!
“Maybe if I were going to cast a stupefaction spell, but what I almost shot off was a lot more potent than that. Like…gravimetrically powerful” I still wasn’t cowed.
“Then I would have negated your spell by casting its reverse… and I have a lot more mana to work with than you my dear. I’d easily outlast you in a prolonged casting competition” Not to brag, but even the most gifted of the Stellar Magi couldn’t hold a candle to a Trifect, even a neophyte like myself.
For reference, Twilight’s draw power was comparatively the size of a large well when compared with an average Stellar Mage’s bucket’s worth of mojo, whereas mine was the size of an entire lake. Age old distinguished Trifects like Celestia and Luna were that of an ocean, respectively. I was unsure where Cadence would have stood on the scale, likely in between those two values if it were my guess. The only times Twilight has ever wielded more power was when she was in full Element of Magic mode, and that wasn’t purely ‘her’ when that was the case. Not if what I felt that fateful night was any clue.
Twilight considered my words, “Its always better to err on the side of caution Zenith, remember Muphrey’s law” She spoke with that lecturing voice that was befitting of her.
“Muphrey?” I would have staggered at the similarities, but this world had yet to best my current levels of suspended disbelief.
“Yes, it states that everything that can falter…” She rolled her hands for me to finish her sentence.
“Will falter, given the right set of circumstances” It wasn’t a complete mirror of my least favorite law, but it was close enough to still be valid in my opinion.
She clapped her hands together, “Very good Zenith! I can see at least one of the people I know here has thorough background knowledge of epigrams!” I actually completely guessed the answer, not that I would ever confess that to little miss teacher’s pet. It’s comforting to know that some things will never change for me.
I shrugged, “Enough to get by I suppose. Now why did you summon me here? My time ain’t cheap, so either fork up the souls now or be forever marked for torment” I leered at her, gnashing my teeth together and looming over the much shorter woman.
She gaped openly at me, her expression morphing into a mix of confusion and horror. The Star shaped focal gem on her forehead flashing briefly as she contemplated casting another spell. Unless I felt like putting my money where my mouth was, I’d better diffuse the situation.
I shrank back and deadpanned, “That was a joke Twilight” Why are people here so unreceptive to my brand of non sequitur humor?
She equally backed down, looking away from me, “I’m sorry for being so on edge Zenith, but the reason I called you here has much to do with that poorly timed joke”
“Explain please” I requested somewhat irritably.
“Remember the time at Sweet Apple Acres when you told us that interesting story regarding the people who replaced themselves with robots? I asked you what the moral of the story was, and your voice overlapped on itself when you answered” She recounted, eyeing me in an analytical manner that made me feel more like a specimen than a person.
“Oh yeah” I scratched the back of my head in minor embarrassment, “That was kinda weird huh?”
“The others couldn’t detect it because they were either insensitive to certain energies or too inexperienced to know otherwise, but your voice was overlaid with a foreign entity” She revealed to me.
I think I could see where this was going.
“Lemme guess, you want to make certain that the Night Terror’s essence is completely purged from my being right?”
She blinked, “That correct, now normally I would assume that the Elements would have completely rid your body of anything they deemed antithetical to a state of Harmony. But your unique reaction to the experience had me reconsider the possibilities. The Elements are the most powerful magical conduits in the world, but they are only vaguely understood. No one really knows how they operate or why they even require bearers to begin with, so anything I could come up with would be conjecture at best and blankly guessing at worst-”
I stood quietly as she launched into a long soliloquy regarding her various theories that she came up with over the years and how it was frustrating to test them because of the unique circumstance that will lead to their activation. I withheld the urge to yawn and lean against the flat surface of the machine I was standing beside, for fear of being discovered and having my ear talked off (directly anyway) by the violet dressed librarian. Twilight could really yammer on and on when she felt like it. I paid half attention to the words spilling out of her mouth and imagined playing Tetris inside my mind as I waited.
“…Which is why I intend to examine this empirically. Do you understand Zenith?”
“Gonna be attaching me with wires and hooking me up to a machine?” It wasn’t really a question, as I already knew what was going to happen.
She laughed nervously and absently brushed one her arms with the other, “Basically, if that’s all right with you of course?”
“It’s in both our interests to see whether or not I’m completely rid of that foul spirit’s taint. Let’s do this already” I still had two floors back home that I wanted to explore darn it!
“Great! Just sit down in the recliner and try to relax. An elevated heart and breathing rate indicate stress and that tends to interfere with the readings more often than not” She directed me to a leather chair and promptly sat me down upon it.
She then became sticking electrodes of some sort to various parts of my body, particularly those in spots around my head. I had to verbally dissuade Twilight from slapping one against my forehead, lest she discover my unique lack of a focal gem and proceed to question me about it. When she was done, she flipped a series of switches and twisted dials. The background noise of beeps and clicks effectively doubling in frequency and loudness.
“If you would direct your attention to the empathic spectroscopic ring, please” Twilight politely commanded, which I obliged, staring at that strange metal ring that I had spied on the way down.
Said ring was in the process of powering up, with strange wispy tendrils of grayish black of shimmery transparent vapor being discharged from the prongs. They swirled and coalesced together until they looked exactly like a gothic version of the trans-world portal I had drawn comparisons to earlier. In the corner of my eye, I saw Sparkle’s brow furrow at something she must have considered odd.
“Unusual, the spectra is typically a more vibrant coloration. No matter, it’ll make discerning you from non-you entities easier” She remarked, the only thing she was missing was a lab coat and then I’d really feel like a guinea pig.
“And just what exactly am I seeing?” I asked, staring into the swirling clouds of ectoplasm like smoke.
“What we are seeing is the ESR’s visual interpretation of your incorporeal quintessence. The colors paint a faint picture of your perennial temperament, certain colors correspond with a particular mindset: such as red for passionate people, orange for motivated, yellow for optimistic…”
“So they represent what sums up an individual the best?”
She hesitantly nodded, “It’s not definitive mind you, but the vast majority of the time, its spot on”
“What color is yours if I may ask?” I was presuming that she’s tested this out on herself.
“Purple…shocking right? It seems to relate to a never ending drive to learn and experience more, which is pretty accurate in my case”
“What does mine represent?” I turned back to the ring, the lack of knowing what defined me mocking me with its indifference.
“To be honest? I don’t really know, I’ve never seen it so…bland before”
I rolled my eyes, “Of all the words I’d use to describe myself, bland is not one of them”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it! It’s just so…atypical of the norm”
“Well, am I at least clean of any unduly spirits?” I tapped my foot in impatience. I was growing weary of this whole thing.
Twilight studied the portal for another five minutes before getting back to me with the answer, “I believe so… any kind of foreign presence would have shown up as a contrasting color. Even if it was of similar coloration, two beings empathic spectra’s would never share the same exact hue”
“That’s good to hear, so are we done?”
‘I think I left the water running back home’ I snarked internally.
She shut the machine off before sauntering closer to me, “Almost, there’s just one more thing I need to check out before we’re finished” She stopped moving somewhere behind me before speaking in a hushed whisper, “I’m so sorry for this”
That had me worried, “Sorry for wha- Urk!”
Twilight had clapped both hands on my head and in that very moment, it had felt as though all the blood in my body had been replaced with ice water. I quickly reached out with my arcane senses and scanned whatever spell Twilight was using to assail me with. I was shocked to find out that it was a more concentrated version of the same spell that Celestia had used to step inside my mind, only this spell was attempting to dig deeper than that. The pain was beginning to mount and it was getting more and more difficult to stay awake, with a last burst of effort I granted the treacherous girl access and rode the energies into my being. My vision fading to darkness as the rest of my faculties extinguished themselves.
⁂
I came to in a rather desolate looking field at the edge of a tall cliff overlooking a sea of calm waters. Everything was exactly as you would expect, only the colors were sucked out of every single thing and the whole scene was devoid on any motion, the dark waters below looking more like the glass of an obsidian mirror than those of an ocean. It was like somebody had taken a faded black and white photograph of the cliffs of Dover and made a landscape of it. I stood up and attempting to get my bearings. The act movement in this ‘plane’ was downright surreal, like walking on a virtual treadmill, with the environment coming to me and not the other way around.
I floated over to the cliff’s edge and stared down into the veritable soup of inky black water. There was this nagging feeling in the fiber of my being telling me to go deeper. A sound like electrical buildup broke me out of my reverie and I glanced up to the clouds, which by now were swirling into a kind of eddy that either meant the arrival of Thor…or someone even more problematic. With a sharp crackling din, the heavens were pierced with a distinctively purple ray of energy, the beam cleaving the sea below in twain and causing it to collapse on itself. Leaving behind a twin waterfall of metaphoric fluid cascading into the newly created- no, revealed abyss. My means for going deeper were now provided for me, so I steeled my resolve and leapt off the cliff into the rift below. Even when falling, it felt more like my surroundings were rushing up to meet me.
I didn’t quite know what to think about that.
I had no idea of how long I was falling for, being surrounded by nothingness tends to make judgment of time passage muddled at best. To keep myself occupied, I reviewed what I did know. Twilight had cast a supercharged version of the mind-walker spell, only with the intent to see even deeper than that. What was her aim? What could she possibly want to see what my spirit is like? I thought it was dank and dreary as all hell here, and I was the owner for land sakes! Either way, I needed to stop her from mucking up myself any further than what had already occurred. It wasn’t long until I was hot on the trail of my ‘intruder’ with only a short distance that was rapidly closing separating us.
Just when I thought I was going to catch the lavender lightning, I was blown of course by some kind of energy surge belonging to it. We must have suddenly reached ‘ground’ level, because I was now in an upright position downwind of the trespasser. Wherever I was now was more unsettling than the upper floor. A reddish haze surrounded me on all sides that vaguely took on the appearance of a bloody mist. There was nothing but a void above and below my feet. It was an oppressing sight, to say the least. I looked ahead to see that the purple beam had reformed itself into a transparent form of the girl who was now officially on my shit list until further notice. She seemed to be moving towards a sphere of pulsating light and immense power that I could have sworn wasn’t there a second ago.
I expeditiously made my way over to the two of them, I would have called out to Twilight to halt, but I intrinsically knew that it wouldn’t have stopped her. A feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I saw her extend out an arm out to touch the sphere. I redoubled my efforts and was just about to reach her when a column of fire enveloped both Twilight and the sphere, blocking my passage and making me growl in frustration. That frustration quickly turned into alarmed confusion when I beheld three humanoid figures stepping out of the blaze.
The first of which was the color of the fiercest crimson and bore its white-hot teeth at me, evoking a growing feeling of aversion the longer I held eye contact. This being was prime on my radar since it brandished an ugly pair of razor sharp claws. The second featureless being was a gloomy looking shade of blue that made me feel as if I had just watched a million puppies getting thrown into a meat grinder by simply looking at it. I wouldn’t have been able to even spot the third if it weren’t for its glowing slate eyes, which glared at me as if I was less than nothing. For some reason, the third bothered me a lot more than the other two combined.
“Let me pass” I angrily ordered, I would not sit idly by while Twilight violated my very being!
The red one hissed in delight, “Yesss, let your anger grow…making me sssstronger with every boiling thought”
The blue being spoke in a wobbly voice, as if it were suffering from hypothermia, “D-don’t see what the p-point of this whole s-standoff is, there’s nothing you can do to s-stop the annoying librarian f-from seeing everything that makes us well…us”
The third one kept silent, keeping its scathing glare firmly affixed on me. I was starting to get an idea as to what these things represented. The fiery one grinned as I made the connection, a snakelike tongue flicking out between its jagged teeth.
“You underssstand then? You cannot ssstop her from ssseeing all that you are, not without confronting usss” That parseltongue of his was seriously starting to get on my nerves.
I may have been unarmed in this place, but I was anything but defenseless. Focusing all of my considerable resolve into my right hand, a ghostlike sword emerged from my palm, which I swiftly caught by the handle. The sword itself emitted an iridescent fog and had a circular hilt that reminded one of an infinity blade. I gave the weapon a few practice swings and discovered that it was weightless, which made sense I guess.
‘I dub thee, Null Edge’ With this instrument, I will smite all those who would try to impede me within the confines of my own soul.
The fiery one grinned further and ground its claws together in excitement. It abruptly closed the gap between us faster than one could blink, slashing at my face and forcing me on the defensive. If my suspicions were correct about this being, getting battle fury would only aid it more than myself, so I cooled my emotions into an icy determination as I parried multiple strikes. My enemy was aggressively fast, but lacked any sort of cunning, choosing to mindlessly slash away as if it had lost itself in a blind rage. This was fitting, since the being itself lacked any eyes. I swept out its feet from under it and brought my sword down upon its head, a frantic flail of its limbs deflecting my stab being the only thing that saved it from having its cranium renovated. It jumped to its feet and switched tactics, trying to tackle me and negate any advantage that my sword offered in this fight.
I circle strafed and nimbly leapt over and around my snarling opponent in an acrobatic fashion, enraging it further to the point where any semblance of a plan degraded into a game of catch the rabbit. A full three minutes of this little chase and the being was starting to visibly fatigue, its once blindingly quick pace now reduced to roughly half of its original capacity. The being then began to shout some rather creative curses at me in its aggravation, clearly angered at its own inability to lay its grubby appendages on its prize. It was starting to get excessively sloppy in its exhaustion, and I knew it.
I wished it had a real face, because the look of shock on its face when I stopped dodging and unexpectedly brought my free fist against its gut would have been priceless as a photograph. It wheeled back from the blow and gave me the opening I needed. I effortlessly hacked off both its limbs with a figure eight swing before pivoting around and impaling the being on my sword. The defeated enemy let out a strained death gurgle as it sank into the blade. It also had the gall to half-chuckle as it spat up a vile stream of orange gore.
“Thisss changesss nothing” With that, it dissolved into the ether.
I cleaned the Null Edge with an automatic snap of my blade, showering the depressing one with metaphoric vital fluid as I approached to seal its doom. It whimpered and held up its arms in a gesture of surrender, I would have found it pitiful, had I not been so dead set on ending it. This one’s defense seemed to be an attempt to overwhelm me with a sense of hopelessness.
“Utterly pathetic” I sneered as I lopped off its head, with the rest of the corpse dissolving into itself.
I spun in place to face the last one, which had been watching the scene unfold unblinkingly. I stopped a few paces away from it and raised my blade…only to find myself unable to strike the final blow. For this was the one inner darkness that I couldn’t truly destroy, no matter how hard I tried to do so. I sighed and sheathed my weapon by casually tossing it to the side, where it dispersed into the nothingness it was created from. The third being kept up its judgmental stare with a complete sense of apathy.
“You’re not worth the effort. You never were”
I couldn’t be sure as to which of us spoke, and I honestly didn’t care at that moment. I stepped into the column of fire and felt it envelop me. The sensation wasn’t painful in the slightest; after all, it was the same humdrum that I experienced each and every day. I emerged from the inferno untouched just in time to see Twilight make metaphysical contact with the sphere, the sensation that I felt next couldn’t be accurately put into words.
It was if I had suddenly lived two lives, each one complete with its own separate set of memories and sentiments. The first one detailing modest to not so modest origins and this inexplicable desire to self improve through learning. The other’s life felt as if someone had abruptly poured liquid mercury into my heart. The latter of the two was dominated by this inordinate sense of meaninglessness, one which drained the life out of you until there was barely anything left save for a hollowed shell remaining. I detected a deluge of sheer despair wash over someone like a tidal wave, someone who was undeniably separate from my self.
My perspective suddenly snapped free as I heard a wail of agony that would have chilled a grown man down to his very bones. Wasting no time, I grabbed the sobbing specter of Twilight and recalled the spell that brought us into this atrocious place, feeling my entire body heat up as the spell was cast towards the ‘ceiling’, carrying us along with it. It was a lot like riding the mythical Bifröst, taking us ever upwards until a white light culminated at the end of the tunnel.
The light was intense enough that it hijacked my vision, forcing me to close my eyes so it would not be so overbearing. When I opened them again, I found that I was standing up. The room was wrecked, with overturned equipment and shattered vials and flasks everywhere. I absently noted that I was also currently clutching a barely conscious Twilight by the throat. Holding her limp figure against the spine of one of the bookshelves. I figured that my body must have naturally reacted when it sensed danger, automatically lashing out at the perpetrator while ‘I’ was absent.
Said girl was a mess, her hair was unkempt, blood was gushing from one of her nostrils, and her skin was totally pallid; as though the experience was Discord level sapping of her strength of will. Her eyes gleamed tearfully at me as she saw the steel in mine. I relaxed my grip on her windpipe, allowing her to suck in choked gasps of air. I wasn’t about to just let her go however.
“What. Did. You. DO!?” I roared, my eyes flashing dangerously. The unexpected sight caused the presently bewildered girl to flinch and whimper in response.
She didn’t even have the presence of mind to try and cast a spell to throw me off or teleport away, she was completely and undeniably broken. It was a good thing that the basement door I had shut behind me was soundproofed; otherwise I’d be dealing with a very unhappy Spike at the moment.
I exhaled a stiff breath and gently let her go, watching her body slump against the floor. This day had taken a turn for the definite worst, but at least I had a way of patching it up so that no one else would share that opinion but me. I visually checked the woman for any evidence of physical injuries caused by me. Seeing no signs of trauma, I grabbed a rag from one the few tables that wasn’t smashed in and wiped the blood from her nose. I then crouched down to the now unconscious librarian and opened a connection to her mind with my magic.
‘Time to put some of those questionable spell books to use’
I probed Twilight’s mind without meeting any resistance. Normally a person would have natural mental defenses that discouraged spells like this from having an effect, especially someone with a mindset like Sparkle’s. But whatever Twilight must have done to enter my very being must have disabled those defenses. Unsurprisingly, Twilight’s rigid mindset was very well organized, with every thought she’d ever considered worthy of being saved neatly stored away in various mental partitions. A satirical part of me likened it to a library, but I felt that would be too ironic of a likening, choosing to compare it to a file cabinet instead.
I filed through her thoughts and plans leading up to my visit, discovering that Twilight’s intention of making sure I was clean of the Night Terror’s bad juju was shadowed by an ulterior motive to see if I really was as austere as I came off to be, and if so, discover just why that was. Not willing to accept the ESR’s interpretation of my temperament as fact, Twilight prepared her secondary means for determining the truth by delving into my very soul. The lack of esteem for my personal space was disgusting, this girl valued her own drive to discern the truth more than her respect for lines that should never be crossed.
So when Twilight made contact with my core, our essences mixed and intertwined with each other, allowing us to see things through the other’s eyes and mind. I paused in my memory sifting in order to reflect on that instant. I didn’t think much of Twilight’s life personally, sure she was powerful in her own right and adored by those who knew her. But she was also quite flawed (more so than normal), this girl keeps making mistakes that she should have learned from previously (in the most naïve of ways too), and this agonizes her severely.
Her neuroses also forced her to think on her pitfalls and develop ways to correct them, and if those carefully laid plans fell apart for any reason…this girl just…breaks down. She recognizes that nothing is truly perfect, but refuses to accept this as established fact…if what she thinks of her teacher was anything to go by. Celestia was clearly placed on a pedestal by her student, and she especially loves to turn a blind eye when the Princess freely shows that she isn’t without her faults. It was almost enough to make me feel bad for her.
‘No! Twilight deserves none of my sympathy. Not after violating the one thing I consider immutably sacrosanct’
Twilight had the best of intentions when she injected her being into my own, thinking that she could either expose my inhibitions as false or correct my hidden hang-ups so I could more easily make friends (and by extension, make her look good for teacher). Never mind the fact that what she had done had disregarded multiple established laws (‘want it need it’ ring a bell?) but also jeopardized any chances of an amiable relationship with me. Perhaps someday I could find in my heart to forgive her transgressions, but I was feeling a little pissed right now. It didn’t help that her last feelings had been despair for my sake. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the devastated caterwaul she vocalized.
Now memories aren’t something that can be easily erased, but they can be overwritten with suitably less difficulty. ‘For what is a soul but a blank slate with memories imprinted upon it?’ It was a small shame that I wouldn’t find out what altered my voice after storytelling time, but as long as I was free of any malevolent forces subtly manipulating my actions, I didn’t really care.
The scene around me gave me some decent ideas of what to work with. Such as a scenario where Twilight had been working on a volatile spell and had accidentally let her mind drift to some schmuck Valkyrian guard assigned to Cadence’s personal entourage in the Krystal Kingdom, (who had somehow caught her eye despite being nothing out of the ordinary). Stray prurient thoughts like that during a critical moment of casting would be sufficient enough for a total failure scenario. There were a lot of things I learned about the unassuming girl in the past few minutes by combing through her mind, some of which were going to require some serious brain bleach after I was done.
I scripted the false memory and overlaid it on top of the real one, for good measure I also performed the equivalent of taking a sharpie and blotting out both the recent experience and any other schemes for investigating my voice mishap so that there would be no leakage between the real and false memories. As far as Twilight was now concerned, she had invited me over to witness some her magic and to discuss more about myself (which was sorta the truth, subjectively speaking). I reacted quickly when she flubbed the spell and cast a barrier shield over myself to take the brunt of the magical knockback. All I had to do now was sell the act to Spike and I’d be home free.
I scooped up the sleeping girl and held her bridal style, carrying her up the stairs. I used my magic to open the door and called out to Spike.
“Hey Spike! Where’s Twilight’s room?”
“Just up the stairs man, why do you ask?” A voice from another one of the rooms asked.
“No reason really, she just fainted” I said with a nonchalant tone.
“What!?” He exclaimed, dropping whatever he was doing and rushing into the main room. His eyes widened considerably when he beheld Twilight’s limp form being held by yours truly.
“Holy Guacamole! What happened?”
“Twilight toyed with forces beyond her grasp and it backlashed, I had to go shields up just to keep my footing. She’s lucky that she only got slightly roughed up in the process. Crazy girl injected a lot of energy into that spell, the basement is a complete disaster area now”
Spike’s shoulder’s sagged when I mentioned the basement, “That’s alright, its not like I had any plans for today anyway”
I shot him an apologetic look and made for the stairs, “Cheer up Spike, maybe she’ll treat you to something for being such a caring assistant. Once she awakens that is…”
“You sure she’s okay? We don’t need to take her to Magiville General do we?” He expressed his concerns, biting at his nails.
“It’ll take a lot more than a faulty spell to take down Twilight, she’s a pretty tough gal, all things considered” He seemed less nervous at my reassurance.
“Okay Zenith, I trust you” His sincere words stung me a bit more that I’d have liked.
I finished ascending the steps leading into the secondary floor of the treebrary. I used my wings to speedily get into the alcove where Twilight’s singled sized bed patiently awaited her return. I laid the girl on top of the mattress and observed her peaceful form. I sincerely hoped that her dreams would at least be serene (and hopefully without a suspicious Luna). Even though she probably couldn’t hear it, I spoke my mind aloud.
I tapped a hand against my chest, “This is my burden Twilight, not yours. You would do well to commit that to heart”
An owl in the corner of the room chose that moment to hoot.
“Ah, hoo yourself ya’ poxy bird” I jeered at its perching area.
I left the room and returned downstairs, the newly jostled basement door notifying me to Spike’s location. I would have helped him clean up, but I had a lot of stress in my mind that I needed to purge. I swung open the door leading to the outside and gently shut it behind me. I knew of nothing better to bring stillness to a turbulent mind than an aimless walk. My brooding scowl must have been emanating an aura telling people to mind their own business or suffer my wrath, because it only took one glance in my direction for any onlookers to briskly vacate the area. This suit my purposes nicely, I was in an ill mood for faking cordiality.
My wandering eventually led me out of town and into one of the many parks the surrounded the medium sized settlement. An empty secluded park bench with my name on it beckoned to me as I waltzed up to it and promptly collapsed on its wooden rungs. Much to my consternation, my walk had only partially diminished the raw feeling of indignation for being wholly trespassed. Seeking a solution, I brought out the sound sphere and had it encapsulate the area around me in five feet of diameter. There was only a specific set of music that calmed me down when I underwent angst. I focused on memories of Tycho and relayed the command to my interactive spell, the field flashing as it received the input and began playing the Downtempo music in surround sound.
I don’t know how long I sat there for, when the first song was over I just had it cycle through the rest of the album that I could recall and continued to stew in my vexation. I was so caught up in my deep musings, that I failed to notice the telltale creaking of the bench announcing that someone had taken a seat next to me. I pretended not to notice as the stranger listened quietly to the sphere’s influence.
Finally they broke the silence as the music died down, “You seem troubled” Her voice was undeniably soft, with a kind of lyrical quality to it. It was also vaguely familiar, though I couldn’t place its origin at that moment.
I didn’t bat an eyelash, “Nothing that won’t pass with the inevitable flow of time, I’m sure” I droned, content to decompress in my own way.
“Perhaps, although I find it best in my experience not to bottle things up, lest the contents leak out at inopportune moments” She spoke in a sagely tone, as though she had plenty of background knowledge about this.
“Some things are meant to stay secret, though I wouldn’t mind sharing my qualms…that is, if you’re willing to make this an equal exchange” I neutrally proposed, still keeping my relaxed pose.
She made a humming noise, giving it some thought, “I might be willing to consider that, if my confiding partner wouldn’t mind establishing mutual eye contact for once” She teased, this girl must have been an easygoing type to overlook my lack of tact so easily.
I finally creaked the lid of one eye open, appraising the girl sitting so casually next to me. She wore gray sweatpants along with a well-worn green hoodie that had clearly seen better days. The weather was starting to get chillier, so I couldn’t really begrudge her choice of fashion. Her hair was the color of mint with a white streak running down the side while her eyes were a fascinating shade of yellow. I knew this girl, though not extensively. She didn’t really stick around long enough for me to get a good read on her the first we met.
Her golden orbs lit up in glee, “So it can act like a normal human being! I was beginning to think that I was talking to an animated extension of the park bench” She held up a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
I rolled my eyes, “Very funny, so what do you want to know?”
She crooked her neck at the question, “Whatever you feel like speaking your mind about” She simply replied.
I responded almost automatically, “I’m not really a man of many words, but I can tell you that I’ve potentially been alienated by someone important and it will undoubtedly affect our interactions for some time to come”
Her brow furrowed at my lack of emotion, “You don’t really seem all that bothered by it” She observed.
I slowly shook my head, “I’m not, though I sometimes wonder if this makes me a bad person”
“Did you desire this other person’s friendship?”
“I was decidedly neutral about it. If we became friends…great, if not, no biggie to me”
She stared at me for a moment, as if searching for something, “There’s nothing wrong with being more reserved with the relationships you form, but most people wouldn’t see such a phlegmatic attitude towards the weakening or loss of said relationships as a good thing”
I slouched even further in my seat, “I figured as much. But enough about my problems, what ails you?” I redirected the conversation towards her, to which she seemed reticent herself.
“Be at ease, I won’t judge…” I imperceptibly grinned, “…much” My delayed comment eliciting another melodious giggle out of the young woman and lightening both our moods substantially.
She looked skyward as she recounted her story, “I’ve never stood out much for as long as I could remember. Sure I had my small quirks that got me the odd remark or two when I attended school as a little girl, but I paid them no mind. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I really became immemorable. That was the night before the Summer Sun Celebration” She got this far off look in her countenance as she remembered the occurrences of that night.
I tweaked a brow, “And what happened during the night of celebration that rendered you immaterial?”
“That was the time when my name and all meaning attached to it was taken away. When I was cursed to be forever forgotten, just another piddling face in the background, deprived off all the warmth that recognition could afford” She tried her best to sound bitter about it, but it came out as more of a chocked sniffle. This topic was obviously hard on her, and she made to stand up, finding herself stopped by my hand on her forearm.
“Stay. I might just be able to help you out” My steady voice was full of unshakable conviction, which froze (pun not intended) the girl to that very spot.
“I’ve sought help before, my curse only kicked into overtime and erased all instances of me ever existing. Photographs, mementos, even my old bedroom are all discarded or left to gather dust…dismissed as irrelevant” She tried to shake her arm free with admirable strength, but I held firm.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist Miss Heartstrings” Her struggling stopped as she gaped openly at me, a faint look of shock gracing her features.
“H-how did you know my name? We only first met at-”
“My welcoming party?” I finished for her, “How could I forget the only girl I’ve ever seen wearing such a threadbare hoodie that spouted philosophical poetry while plucking at a lyre? That’s memorable enough to me” I let go of her arm, letting her choose whether or not she wanted to stay.
She lowered herself onto the bench once more, never taking her eyes off mine, “This shouldn’t be possible, I’ve even gone to the Princess for aid whenever she’s visited town, only for my curse to take over and deny me my chance at freedom!” Her sudden rise in volume scattered a few birds that were roosting nearby.
Her skepticism was understandable, but I’m a bit of an outside factor when it comes to these things, “Yet, here we both are, you and I. Can you find it in you to take a monumental risk? Even if it means undergoing changes that might not be comfortable at first?” Informed consent was a must if we were to go forward with this.
She projected the most heartbroken look I had ever seen on an Arcanian so far, “I'd do almost anything to return to my loved ones, my mother, my father, and even the few that I could call friends back when I was plain old Lyra”
Her doubts weren’t easily cast aside though, “But how can I know that whatever you’ll try works?”
“You don’t. That’s why its called taking a risk” I brushed off some plant particulates that had accumulated on my shirt collar, “But I’m reasonably sure that the plan I have in mind is daring enough to work around your geas’ framework parameters”
I continued my clarification, “You see, you’re not the only one who’s been affected by the Night Terror’s influence. Fortunately for me, I was washed cleaned by the redeeming power of Harmony, and that’s a one wash guarantee as far as magic’s concerned. As for your curse, it only runs skin deep”
She looked confused by that, “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand”
“Your curse is only bound to your physical body, with your spirit acting as an anchor of sorts for the energies to cling to. One of the reasons you feel so cold all the time is because the curse is drawing natural heat energy away from your body to fuel its processes” I answered, with comprehension gradually dawning on her face.
I wouldn’t mention this to her for all to hear, but she should feel vaguely flattered that the Night Terror weaved such a convoluted geas just for her. Spells like this are without a doubt, high tiered and difficult to master for anyone with a life span less than a century. I wanted to ask if she had tasked herself with finding lunar compositions, when I remembered a uniquely key fact of this world. Luna didn’t care enough for classical music to have composed and commissioned her own works. She liked to express herself a little more…actively, mainly by accompanying me in my dreams as we blew the shit out of multiple structures with a gratuitous amount of high explosives.
‘Good dreams…good dreams’
Lyra broke me out of my daydreaming, “How do you know so much about my curse? I’ve been trying to figure it out for years, but it hasn’t proven simple to self inspect one’s own curse”
“Because I’ve been studying it throughout the duration of our little chat” For emphasis, my eyes lit up briefly, making her gasp in surprise.
It was true, while we conversed; I had devoted the majority of my exploratory magic and brainpower to tentatively picking at the curse and testing its limitations. Overall it was a pretty solid curse, but even a diamond can shatter if you apply the right amount of force. That analogy is actually quite insufficient in this case, as the effort would likely kill her rather than free her. So I had to think a little out of the box for this one. My plan required some finesse on my part, and an extraordinary amount of altruism, but I’d be damned if I let this issue persist when I could do something about it.
I scooted closer to the greenish woman and gently grasped her by the shoulders, looking her dead in the eyes, “Lyra Heartstrings, we’ve only known each other a short time, but can you find it in your heart to take a leap of faith?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, her lips curled into a grin, “Mostly…though it would help if my potential savior would at least smile for a change”
I deadpanned, “Don’t get greedy”
Before she could make a witty retort, I pushed forward and kissed her full on the lips. The action had reasonably stupefied her and she jolted at the shock, breaking her inherent mental defenses apart long enough for me to cast the same spell that Twilight had used on me not two hours ago. In a moment of faint observation, I noted offhand that she curiously tasted like mint and cream. As my magic successfully bridged the connection between our two selves, I felt a shift in my being unlike anything I had experienced before. My vision faded to black once again as the rest of my senses subsequently signed off.
⁂
This time the ‘dive to the heart’, as I’ve taken to calling it, was anticlimactic in nature, with my spirit projection landing in some kind of clearing in the woods. The only thing off about this particular scene was that everything was frozen over. Icicles hung off of the surrounding trees and snow was scattered everywhere. There was a log cabin in the center of it all that was a good indicator of where I needed to go. Unlike my own Soulscape, there were colors other than empty black and oppressive red in this one. Granted, they were of the more wintery persuasion, but it was nice change of pace for my tastes. I stepped onto the front porch of the cabin and wiped my feet on the welcome mat for good measure before stepping inside.
The interior was your common log cabin set up, a bed on one side and a kitchenette and bathroom stall on the others. Various articles of thick clothes were dispersed everywhere and draped over dressers, with an iconic stringed instrument resting against the foot of the bed. In the nucleus of the quaint building was the object that I was looking for. Strangely enough, Lyra’s soul core was exactly the same as mine in shape and features, but no less fascinating to gaze upon. Realizing that my time here was still limited, I made contact with the sphere.
And was immediately bathed in the charming sensation of crushing loneliness.
Like when Twilight had done the same, I was being forced to relieve every moment that Lyra had struggled to live in the days following the casting of the curse (being caught out in the open by the newly returned Night Terror doesn’t do one’s health wonders). Days that turned into weeks, which turned into months, and eventually years. At first, she had submitted to the melancholy of being constantly forgotten by everyone she had ever interacted with, melancholy that soon became desperation as she entreated somebody, anybody with some semblance of magical experience to overturn her curse. But whenever it seemed like a breakthrough was near, the geas took that opportunity to maliciously bring all of her hopes crashing down on top of her.
She was absolutely beside herself with misery for a long time. The only reason that prevented her from taking her own life was that she could still make a difference in people’s lives, whether it be from subtly encouraging them to pursue that special someone (or sometwo, when it came to one love struck young boy), to just playing soothing music with her instrument for people going through rough times of their own. Despite all the good that she was still doing the world, her curse taxed her resolve severely, and she was starting to lose faith. It didn’t help that she was damn near hypothermic the entire duration of her ordeal.
I grit my teeth as I forced the burdensome influx of negative emotion back, concentrating my efforts on my primary objective. I now knew intimately of the woman’s pain, but I also had the keys to her salvation. With a last push of magic, I began absorbing the soul orb into myself, paying special attention not to mix the important contents with my own quintessence. My plan was simple, if not a little bit on the dangerous side. Because Lyra’s curse relied on her spirit as a focal point to latch onto, removing it from her body would deprive the curse of that vital anchor.
This meant that if her body could withstand the minute shock of having its soul ‘borrowed’ from it, then the curse would either evaporate instantly, or slowly fade as the spell’s residual energies exhausted themselves. The curse shouldn’t steal from the body’s remaining life energies since the point of the curse existing in the first place was to condemn poor Lyra to a lifetime of isolation. I was also on standby to provide resuscitation if the curse proved more devious than I gave it credit for.
After an indeterminate amount of time, I had finished spellbinding Lyra’s spirit to my own. Heaving a heavy sigh from the demanding endeavor, I stepped outside of the log cabin and turned skyward. I then used the remainder of my magic to exit the now soulless depths that were beginning to collapse in on themselves in a spectacular display of destruction. It wasn’t quite as harrowing as when the Millennium Falcon barely escaped the bowels of an exploding Death Star, but I like my safety margins nice and wide. The same luminous light from before filled my vision with all encompassing white.
I blinked my eyes open and shut as my senses returned one by one. I was half expecting Lyra’s body to have the same violent reaction that mine had with Twilight, but hers was now lying prone against the rest of the bench (including my lap), the empty shell of a person was perilously close to falling over too.
‘Ugh, what happened?’ A voice questioned from inside my head, a distinctly feminine voice.
‘I’ve conducted the world’s first legitimate soul transfer, that’s what happened’ I snarked in response. I had to fight the urge to speak out loud, thankfully my usual unforthcoming manner aided considerably with this. Her words were almost to an audible level, halfway between the volume of a whisper and a murmur in my head.
‘I’m still alive? Did your crazy plan work then?’ She asked much more clearly, to which I scanned her body’s geas. It was nowhere near as strong as it once was, but it was evaporating slower than I would have preferred.
‘Almost home free, but I’d estimate a good half day before you…well, until I can breath easy for you’
‘I remember…seeing things, otherworldly things’ Her tone was awed, had she seen the land where I originated?
I nearly forgot that the soul ‘tapping’ is a two way street, I’d see a significant portion of her life, and in return she’d see mine. I didn’t know how I felt about that. Best to keep it hush hush.
‘Shh…it’s a secret to everybody’ Save the Princesses.
‘How can I stay tight-lipped about something like that! EEE! I’m speaking to an extra terrestrial!’ For some reason, I got the mental image of her avatar excitedly jumping up and down like a Genki girl.
‘I’d ask you to take me to your leaders, but I’ve already met the whole lot of them’ Nice bunch they are. Except Blueblood, he was a bit douchey to me the last we met. I’d have to check in on his reorienting process the next I visited the Capital.
‘You’ve met each of the Princesses!? Are you some kind of foreign dignitary from another world?’ She was practically squealing in exhilaration.
‘You could say that. Just how much did you see anyway? Some details of my life are strictly private’ My hidden knowledge about the equine variant of this place for example.
‘It was all bits and pieces, but enough for me to know that you definitely aren’t from this planet’ I could just imagine her grinning in smug satisfaction. Oh wait, that’s what her mental avatar was actually doing.
‘Keep that opinion to yourself m’kay? I’ll consider us even that way’ I actually wasn’t going to make her a debtor either way, but I’d use all the leverage I could get.
‘As much as I want to protest and proclaim to the world that one of my few childhood eccentricities was vindicated, I owe you my freedom. Thank you so much for this…’ I’ve never heard a more sincere form of gratitude, it was practically radiating out of her essence.
‘No thanks necessary, I’d always help out those who are unable to help themselves’ Her previous statement caught up with me, this Lyra believed in aliens?
‘So noble…’ Did she just purr?
She either couldn’t detect my confusion or just disregarded it, opting to ask a question, ‘Where exactly am I anyway? I can only see through your eyes at the moment’
‘I’m not entirely certain. My best guess is that you’re currently occupying my body alongside me. So long as you stay on your side on my head, we’ll get along just fine’
‘Hmm… this place could use a woman’s touch’ I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, best nip that in the bud before it becomes an issue.
‘Woah woah woah! My brain is the ultimate man cave, to defile it with a female’s influence would be akin to heresy’ I reasoned, but I wouldn’t sink to pleading if she decided to ignore my boundaries and tried to play housekeeper. It took more effort than I would have liked not to picture her in a sexy French maid outfit. I don’t think she’d appreciate that, savior or no savior.
‘I dunno, this place is kind of…barren. Maybe we should let her have free reign?’ That annoying part of my mind that questioned my every decision spoke unbidden.
‘Shut up brain! Nobody asked you’
I heard Lyra’s simulacrum giggle in amusement, ‘You play Devil’s advocate with your own self? That’s adorable’
‘I self critique a lot, it comes with the territory’ I wondered if the other introverts out there felt something similar.
‘Joking aside…what now? You implied that it will still take some time before my body’s curse wears off right?’ To which I responded in the affirmative with a wordless nod.
‘Listen, I don’t normally say this to a lady on our first outing but…my place or yours?’ I projected an air of faux suaveness toward her. If she still had cheeks, I’m sure they would be on fire with the amount of embarrassment emanating from her. As soon as she recovered her wits she responded.
‘Uhm, my place sounds good. It’s not far from Sweet Apple Acres actually, just a cozy little log cabin out in the woods’ Images of said cabin flashed briefly in my mind’s eye, likely spurred by Lyra’s recollection.
‘Ah yes, I’ve a vague idea of where to go’ It was just up the road and nestled in the middle of a sizable copse of unclaimed apple trees. I had actually passed by there a few times while on errands for the Apple family, it never would have occurred to me that this girl lived there if I didn’t know better.
I scooped up Lyra’s unconscious body and slung it over my shoulders like it was a sack of potatoes. Lyra made a fuss over the unceremonious way I was carrying her petite frame, but promptly shut up when I made teasing remark how any other pose could be misconstrued by stray passerby’s as a prelude to the no pants dance. The way I was currently carrying her could be easily passed off as one good friend carrying home a girl who had a little too much to drink. I think she wanted to snipe back how I could also take advantage of her in the same scenario, but remembered that if it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t be having company over to begin with. I speechlessly lugged the fleshy spirit container towards the inlet that granted visual and physical access to the house hidden behind the trees.
Lyra broke the silence, ‘You know, its awfully quiet being cooped up in here. I expected someone else’s mind to be a little more…loquacious than this’
‘That because I don’t always think using words, Miss Heartstrings’ I replied as I shifted the weight of her body on my shoulder, winking to a kid staring wide eyed at me as he rested against the shade of a Maple tree. I idly wondered if they hosted an annual ‘running of the leaves’ here too, but dismissed it as being too ridiculous to be practical.
‘You literally saved my soul, I think you can afford to drop the formality’ She tittered good-naturedly. I found her adaptability to such a strange situation to be admirable. I heard the strange sound of a palm smacking against a forehead.
‘Speaking of which, I don’t even know my hero’s name! I feel like such a tool right now’ Her praise made me feel somewhat self-conscious.
‘Didn’t you lurk outside the barn during my welcome party? How could you not catch the spectators chanting my name when I went full beast mode during the drinking competition?’
She railed against one particular description, ‘I don’t lurk! And…I did, but I’d like to hear it from you personally… if that’s okay’ She sounded slightly sheepish by the end.
We were now alone, so I felt safe enough to speak this next part out loud, “Very well, I’m Zenith. Aspiring adventurer, eclectic musician, and master sarcaster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lyra”
‘My my, you’re certainly accomplished. All I have to show for myself is that I could whine in iambic pentameter while plucking at a handheld harp’ I recognized that tone intuitively. It wasn’t modesty speaking…that was self-loathing.
I addressed her by her full name to grab her attention, “Lyra Heartstrings! You have persevered and endured through a nightmare that would have reduced most people into lifeless wrecks. You may have lost hope on several occasions, but you pushed yourself on regardless. Even with your severe disability, you selflessly devoted yourself to making sure that you could be someone else’s light in dark times, overlooking the fact that they wouldn’t remember that it was you who made a difference in their lives. And guess what? I’m your light at the end of the tunnel”
I couldn’t tell you how fulfilled she was to have someone tell her that, ‘And I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to for all of this. I don’t know what would have happened to me if I had decided to let you sit on the park bench by your lonesome’ I had an idea, and it wasn’t a pretty thought.
Lyra then called me out on one of my claims, much to my dismay, ‘Didn’t you say that you were a man of few words? Why the long winded pep talk? Maybe you aren’t as taciturn as you let on~’ I could tell that she was teasing me, but my reserved nature was not something I joke about lightly.
“You were being a sad sack, that’s why. Exceptions must sometimes be made in the name of necessity” I interrupted her before she could poke at me further, “We’re here”
Lyra’s cabin looked the same in real life as it did in her Soulscape. I magicked open the screen door and deposited Lyra’s unresponsive body on her twin sized bed. Staring at her snoozing form on the mattress made me feel tired myself, I had expended a good portion of my magic with all the soul searching I had been doing today. Without my permission, a massive yawn escaped my mouth as I futilely held up a hand to curb it.
‘You and I both know that you’re bushed, why not lie down and keep ‘me’ warm?’ She did her best to act coquettish, but I could tell that she also shared my fatigue. Either because we shared the same body or because she was equally exhausted from the afternoon’s events, it mattered not.
I shrugged to myself out of habit, “Eh…why not?” Before collapsing on the bed next to her empty retainer.
It was a tight squeeze on such a tiny bed, so I invariably ended up snuggling next to her body. I found a position that didn’t seem like I was blatantly spooning her and my eyes gently fluttered closed. I gave myself a mental debriefing in regards to the happenings of the past few hours. My parting thoughts being somewhere along the lines of blasé habituation.
I leaned back comfortably in my Durasteel framed lawn chair, drinking in the sights and sounds of the tropically themed atrium in the belly of an iconic Alliance Starship. In the center of the artificial bay was an island overgrown with coconut laden palm trees and dense foliage. Gulls cawed and flew overhead, crabs scurried about in the sand, and small waves of water licked at my heels as I sank back further into my seat. I hummed in absolute contentment as I mimicked a sedentary blob, not a care in the world.
That is, until a certain passenger I recently invited into my body welcomed herself into my dreams as well.
“What is this place?” I heard the sand shift under her feet as she spun in place, taking in her new surroundings.
“Welcome to the creature comfort chamber of Home One. Everything you see around you was designed to accommodate hundreds of stressed souls in dire need of some rest and relaxation” I explained without batting an eye, lazily crossing my outstretched legs over each other.
“Were you one of those souls? Is this some kind of alien spaceship!?” Her voice was practically saturated in girlish excitement.
“The correct term is Starship, you wouldn’t go calling something like the Skybex a mere boat now would you? And no, I wasn’t one of those lucky souls. This place is utterly fictional” Or at least, that’s what I used to think. My perspectives had been broadened a little since then.
‘Dude, maybe this place does exist somewhere!’ It was an interesting possibility, though my passive face betrayed little of my internal enthusiasm.
I heard her make a huffing noise, “You’re not one of those grammatical sticklers are you? You knew what I meant. I mean, you’re a being from outer space!” Ugh, was she still going on about this?
I finally turned to face her, quietly noting the fact that she was fittingly dressed in mint green bikini to account for surroundings, “I’m from a lot further than that Lyra, trust me. I’m not really an alien either. I’m human like you, as you can plainly see” I gestured to myself with both hands, the Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks going a long way in supporting my point.
“Maybe you’re from a society of shape shifters, like the changelings” She countered self assuredly. She had a decent point there. However…
“You saw my memories right? Surely you must have seen all the people I’ve interacted with in my life as well? They looked like normal people too didn’t they? Why would a whole society of shape shifters emulate something else while in their natural state?”
She digested that for a moment before sighing in defeat, “Why must you be so intent on shooting down my theories? Don’t you know that I’m a huge xenophile!?” She pouted and crossed her arms together. It was an amusingly cute expression to say the least.
“Uhm no, but that’s interesting to know…I guess” I looked away tentatively, what could she possibly mean by that?
She cut into my brief time spent musing, “So if this is all fictional, why do you dream about it?” She summoned her own beach chair and took a position right beside my own.
I guessed she possessed some pull here too, I idly wondered what would happen if we had to wrestle for control. It also called to concern the likelihood that she had an equal influence on my real body, but I was meticulously careful enough in the transfer process to avoid mixing our essences together. Wouldn’t want to end up having an embarrassing body snatcher episode now would we?
I raised an incredulous brow, “Are you kidding? Don’t you dream about places and things that your own world lacks, but your imagination contains? Where it lives and breathes?”
“I used to…before my dreams were plagued with endless nightmares and a cold emptiness that always consumed me” She spoke mutedly, all traces of her previously zesty attitude gone.
I nudged her shoulder with a hand, getting her to look at me, “They aren’t troubled anymore, and when the geas finally wears itself out, you can sleep peacefully once again” I said comfortingly. I wasn’t really the commiserating type, but she seemed to appreciate my words regardless.
She faintly smiled, “I can’t wait” Her expression soured once more, “But what if the damage is already done? Will I still remain forgotten? What if winning this last battle still lost me the war?” She shivered at the possibility.
“Then you’ll just have to reforge your old relationships anew, think of it as having a second chance at making a good first impression. You’ve made a pretty good one with me at least” I shrugged complacently, her concerns were well founded, but she needed to seriously lighten up.
‘Can’t be worse than the first impression that I made with the Elements’ That’s positive thinking for me, knowing that you cannot possibly sink any lower without violating some obscure unspoken universal rule and dooming all existence. Actually, that thought isn’t very comforting either.
She chuckled and glanced towards me, “Nothing seems to break your stride, does it my white knight?” That’s a strange name she came up with for me. Either that or she knows her Internet lingo, which could be the case. She did get a good look at my memories after all.
I gave a thoughtful hum, “I suppose I do qualify for that don’t I? Saving the damsel and assuring her that everything will work out in its own way” I haven’t made any empty promises at least. I worded them way too precisely for that.
“You’ve made a pretty good first impression with me yourself, you know? Suffering a depressing nag like me and even sharing body space with me? That takes either a total basket case, or a truly noble person” She leaned a bit closer to me with a ribald grin, “I mean, interlacing your soul with mine? I couldn’t think of a more intimate act between two people” If she was trying to provoke some kind of reaction out of me, I’m ashamed to admit that she got dangerously close with that jab.
I rebounded quick enough, “I suppose that’s true, though the memory backlash is an odd side effect I could do without” I’m still reeling from processing two lifetimes worth of memories in one afternoon. I did the smart thing and let the encoding process happen in the background, bringing forth a foreign memory gave me a minor migraine anyway.
We sat together in silence for an unknown amount of time. I always thought that was a funny characteristic of dreams, they can last for what feels like minutes or prolong themselves for seeming hours on end and no time had passed in the outside world. I guess Inception did have a point when it went on about creating more time by unearthing more layers of the dreaming mind. It felt like Lyra wanted to inquire more about the person whom she approached on a whim, and who also just happened to be the one person who could break her figurative chains and set her free. But the placid look on my face as I noiselessly observed the artificial tides ebb and flow against the smooth and warm sands discouraged her from disturbing the picture of serenity.
Although I was partly worried about Luna showing up and discovering that a new impromptu dream partner had taken her place. My fears were misplaced, as the Night Princess never came knocking. I then hypothesized that since we had fallen asleep during the day, she wouldn’t be as likely to be monitoring her subject’s sleep cycles or dream walking as a consequence. I’ve never asked Luna what she does during the daylight hours, but she did imply that she did not sleep it away like other nocturnal creatures. Yet I never saw her leave the confines of the palace very often either. She seemed content enough to shut her doors to the world and isolate herself, occupying herself with who knows what kind of activities. Luna may have been more honest and upfront than her big sister, but even she could be a bit of an enigma herself at times.
Lyra was fidgeting impatiently in her chair, which was odd since she hadn’t struck me as the restless type. Though given that she had recently regained her right to exist in the eyes of the world, I suppose I can’t begrudge her current state of mind. The white cracks that began appearing all over the place notified me that our dreamtime was almost over. I decided to end it on a wannabe philosopher’s note.
“Want to know the funny thing about sleep Lyra? It doesn’t matter if our dreams are the greatest thing our minds can conjure up, or the worst fears that a nightmare can well nigh bring to life. In the end, the waking world invariably calls to us…and we are powerless to ignore its beckoning” I turned to her, looking into her pretty but nonplussed golden eyes, “I’ll see you on the other side”
And with that, the world around us fractured and broke apart into a million streams of piercing light.
⁂
You want to know the worst part about waking up for me? Those damned intense rays of light that had the gall to incite my eyeballs to contract on themselves as if they were in imminent danger of implosion. I groaned in severe discomfort and twisted away from the sunlight that was pouring in from the cabin windows. The tiny size of the bed made the effort even more strenuous than was worth it, but necessity took precedence over laziness and I powered through the stiffness of my rotating muscles. I had effectively shut out the worst of the light, only for something else I had completely failed to account for invading my senses and clobbering them until I was forced awake. My eyes slowing inched upwards until I was face to face with the form of Lyra’s sleeping body.
‘And I thought my morning breath was bad, geez’ I cringed as I caught another good whiff of whatever Lyra had to eat from yesterday.
‘Hey!’ She squawked indignantly, further aggravating my shakily rebooting brain, ‘I’ll have you know that I take special care to have flawless breath after every meal. Guess who interrupted that cycle yesterday?’
‘Almost makes me wonder if I made the right choice’ At her feeling of indignation being sent rolling at me like an avalanche, I hastily amended my poorly developed opinion, ‘I keed, I keed. I’d face a thousand occurrences of gnarly morning breath if it meant helping out someone in dire need’
She didn’t grace me with an answer, deciding to give me the cold shoulder treatment instead. I could already see her mental avatar placing her hands on her hips and facing away, somehow ignoring me from within the confines of my own mind. She was reacting a little harshly in my humble opinion; I mean…she wasn’t the one who had to deal with waking up to Celestia’s freaking orb of light that somehow always found the worst possible way to brighten up my day. Knowing that a recently angered woman will only cool her jets in her own time, I played the silent game right back and got up to stretch, relishing in the relaxing feeling of all the ligaments and joints in my spine popping back into their proper place.
I smiled a little as I heard her quietly mutter to herself, ‘…So this is what its like to be tall…’
To be honest, Lyra was a tad shorter than the average woman, so this radical change of perspective was bound to be something different for her. I also felt inclined to tell her how it came with the additional benefit of not having to reach for a stepping stool whenever you wanted to get at the really good stuff hidden on the top shelves in the pantry, but she was still ignoring me at the present time. Plus we both had magic, so that particular advantage was kind of negated anyway.
After a brief debate on whether or not I should practice some T’ai Chi exercises, I decided against it and opted for checking up on Lyra’s body. I circled around until I was on her side of the tiny mattress. Brushing a few stray locks of hair out of her face, I laid a hand against her cheek and began to concentrate my energies into her soma. Her skin was not nearly as icy as it had been the day prior, which was a good sign.
‘Why are you staring at my body and touching it like some kind of creeper? You’re not going to kiss me again are you?’ Lyra suddenly interrupted, intruding upon my focus and subsequently grating against my nerves. Her avatar also had a faint blush on her cheeks, apparently remembering how hands on I was with her yesterday.
I ignored her second question, ‘So I can see what the state of your curse is…baka’ I muttered irritably at the end, hopefully she didn’t know her Japanese insults.
She let off a puff of confusion at the foreign word before speaking, ‘But do you have to be so…direct? Can’t you just scan it from afar like you did yesterday?’ She reasoned, sounding distinctly uncomfortable with the way I was handling her body at the moment.
‘You realize that it takes extra mana to do that right? All for a less comprehensive scan too. This is more practical and efficient. Not to mention that the flesh on flesh contact makes the connection more solid…Giggety!’ Yeah I was kinda trolling her, but she’d probably find it funny too, if she knew the context of that reference...or not. She made this annoyed huffing sound, but otherwise stayed quiet and let me work my magic, much to my relief.
My lips curled downward into a frown as more and more information regarding the curse was revealed to me. This curse was a persistent bastard to be certain; clinging to whatever handhold it could get a grip on. However, it was slowly but surely dying out like a candle being burnt down to the last strands of wick. I made sure to check for any failsafe’s that were embedded into its creation, but complex as the geas was, it wasn’t designed to handle having its anchor deprived and left to fend for itself tether wise. Even if it somehow managed to level out its state of degradation, it wouldn’t have enough juice to carry out its purpose. For all intents and purposes, this magical ‘cancer’ was in full remission.
Unfortunately, Lyra’s curse was still another hour or so away from entirely dissipating. I released a sigh both equal parts dismayed and relieved.
‘Well? What’s the prognosis doc?’ She asked, thinly veiled anxiety underlying every word. I guess that even though she was riding shotgun with me in my head, she was still in the dark as far as my thought processes went.
‘Good news is that the curse is in its death throes, the bad news is that we’ve still got about another hour before its final curtain call’
‘That’s great!’ She clapped with glee before pausing, ‘But how is the last one bad? An hour will fly by like nothing!’
I shuffled in place as a familiar pressure began building up in my bladder, ‘It’s bad because I need to drain the one eyed monster’ I explained, hoping that she’d get the picture.
‘Huh?’ She said confusedly. How could she not read between the lines? I wasn’t precisely hiding my wriggly state of being at the moment.
‘Y’know, leak the lizard?’ I offered, praying that she’d see the full picture.
‘Is this guy code for something? Cause I’m not reading you here’
I slapped a palm against my face, “Oh for the love of… I need to take a huge piss!” I exclaimed out loud. Silence reigned in the cabin as the weight of my words slowly sunk in.
‘Oh…well why didn’t you just say so? I’m not stopping you, my lavatory is just a few paces across the room’ She pointed out, completely missing the true point as she did so.
“I’m not sure if you’ve realized this or not, but I ain’t exactly an exhibitionist. You’re not getting a free show if I have anything to say about it, dinner and a movie first babe” I could already see her avatar flustering in embarrassment.
Not finished educating her on the enormity of the subject, I elucidated some more, “Furthermore, the bathroom is the only place in the house where a male is completely free of a female’s influence. Its like an unofficial shrine dedicated to men who like a nice quiet place where they can sit and think in peace, as well as conduct nature’s natural business”
‘I never realized that the restroom was such an important place to men’ She noted with a perplexed air. I couldn’t hold it against her. There weren’t enough guys out there for this vital ritual to become well known.
“I presume that you’re not familiar with S, S, and S then” I speculated aloud, her mental avatar responding with a shake of her head.
“I won’t explain what that stands for, but the overarching point is that it is very important to men the world over. Not to mention completely estrogen free” I resentfully exhaled and sank down on the bed, being mindful of Lyra’s sleeping form.
‘What do you suppose we should do to pass the time then?’ The momentarily incorporeal woman asked.
I brought a hand to my chin as I thought about it, “Hmm…nothing soothes the nerves quite like music. As a musician yourself, I’m sure you can agree with that sentiment right?” She responded in the affirmative, looking mildly excited at the prospect.
‘That music that you were listening to yesterday when I found you sounded exquisite! I’d very much like to hear some more, if you wouldn’t mind that is’ She politely finished. It was always refreshing to interact with people who were so well mannered.
I shook my head, “I don’t mind in the least, though this spell mostly relies on my own memory of the songs themselves. Luckily, I’ve a good ear for remembering music” I said as I began channeling my magic into the encapsulating version of the sound sphere that I used yesterday.
I forgot to mention it, but I had gotten the inspiration for this modification from when I first spoke to Vinyl. Which also reminded me that I needed to pay her a visit before long, I’m certain that a week with my IPod should be enough to sate her curiosity in my tunes. I marked that on the list of things that I could do after I returned Lyra to her own body and we went back to our mutual business in town.
‘How does your auditory spell work? It’s one of the most interesting uses of magic I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing for myself’ She inquired, complimenting my arcane skill in order to soften me up for the in depth discourse on its intricacies. Which is funny, because the commands woven into the spell itself are quite simple. At least, they are to a Trifect like myself.
“I personally call it the sound sphere, since it’s capable of creating more than just music with the commands that are keyed into its creation. The spell itself works by oscillating the air around the user so that the sounds corresponding to the user’s memories of the sound are produced exactly as requested. When more than one person steps into hearing range of the field however, the spell has to work a little harder to compensate for the second pair of ears listening”
‘Oh dear, I hope my presence wasn’t too exhausting for you’ She sheepishly expressed regret.
I waved it off, “Relax, I’ve plenty of mojo to spare. How else would I have been able to cast the spell required to liberate you, if I wasn’t packing some serious reserves of mana?”
‘That raises another question. Just how are you so proficient with your magic? My age old academy professors couldn’t muster up that kind of power!’ Her tone was filled with wonder, was my usage of magic really that impressive?
“Well…” I trailed off, could I really trust her with the knowledge of my physical identity?
Then again, she trusted me to save her from being forever forgotten, I suppose I should trust her in turn, “To put it simply, I’m a Trifect…”
I heard her laugh within the depths of my mind, ‘That’s a good one! But seriously, how did you accomplish this?’ Figures that she wouldn’t believe me at first.
I left the newly summoned sound sphere to float on stand by and walked over to one of Lyra’s dressers, stopping and facing the mirror. I noted with vague interest that my normally crimson irises were speckled with gold, possibly a side effect of taking in someone else’s spirit into your own body. The churning of my protesting bladder being briefly put to the side, I leaned against the varnished wooden surface and gazed into my inscrutable reflection. I spared a small glance to the Lyre instrument that was hanging on the wall next to the mirror before speaking.
“It seems that mere words are not veracious enough for your belief. So instead of verbally convincing you, I’ll just whip these beauties out” My wings snapped open with a bright flare, the undulating motion of their feather like structure served to further the intended shock and awe effect that I was aiming for.
Lyra was speechless for a full minute. I could tell that she was trying to make out words, but only short sputters and sharp intakes of breath were the only sounds that she made.
She eventually composed herself enough to speak coherently, ‘This…explains so much, a run of the mill Stellar Mage wouldn’t have been capable of the feat you pulled off. You really are a Trifect’ Her imaginary brow furrowed in deep thought, ‘You’re such a mystery. I know that you are not of this world, yet you’re right alongside our Royalty in similitude. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?’
I nodded in concurrence, “There is...but for now, let us just say that I’m rather unique as far as the inhabitants of this world are concerned” I withdrew my wings into myself and flashed another glance at the mirror, “I trust that this will also stay between us?” She hummed her agreement.
I sat back down on the mattress and began pondering on what set of songs we could pass the time with. Memories of home stuck me with a bout of inspiration and the sound sphere began swirling with colors as it received my mental input. I condensed the spell so that it would only be about as large as a headset. There was no need to waste energy when I was the only person physically listening to it after all. Lyra piped in as soon as the beginning tunes began to play.
‘What’s this? It’s more bohemian than what you were playing before’ She asked as the song cycled into the intro.
‘I imagine it would be, this is Sugar Ray we’re listening to’ I started lightly swaying as I got into the beat.
‘Sugar Ray? Never heard of her’ She said, scratching her head as she tried to place the name.
That almost got me to chuckle in amusement, ‘No no, Sugar Ray is the name of a group…consisting of dudes. I like some of their music since it reminds me of home’
‘Huh, well it has a catchy beat. I like it!’ Glad to see that Sugar Ray now has Lyra’s stamp of approval.
She liked them so much that she requested that I show her more of their works, so I dredged up what songs I knew of them from the dusty receptacles of my memory. I then relayed the mental command to the sound sphere headphones, which pulsed almost happily as they were put through their paces. After we wore through what I remembered of Sugar Ray, I moved on to other genres of music that I reckoned she might like, scoring big time when I showed her Breaking Benjamin (especially ‘Better Days’). The hour began gradually melting away and even my urinary discomfort reached an endurable plateau as we both moved to the groove.
We had time for one last song as the final minutes of Lyra’s curse ticked downwards. So feeling a little poetic, I put on a song that felt representative of my mood, given what I had experienced the day before. I shut my eyes as I let the strong rhythm of Imagine Dragon’s Demons take me for a spin. This song really spoke to me, not just because of the lyrics, but also because of the progression. That gentle and uncertain stillness that leapt into a masterful crescendo that was given its character by the drums and bass line. I felt that it represented me in a way, like how I would have these calm periods in my life that were suddenly beset by situations where I would find myself in a moral quandary.
I’ve found myself questioning the choices I’ve been making more and more each day. Ever since the events of the Krystal Kingdom, I’ve been using some unsavory measures to take care of my plights. Get assailed by a madman bent on becoming all-powerful using an ancient relic? No problem, just toss a stun grenade at his face and knife him in the neck. Is there an abhorrent Prince who disputes your position and seeks to claim all of your title’s power with an unarmed duel? Just beat the ever-loving shit out of him using your fists. Find yourself surrounded by a pack of animated wooden wolves with their alpha not far behind? Just hack them to pieces with your Mage blade before turning their leader into an explosive pincushion.
It has become exceedingly obvious that I liked to solve my problems with a hearty serving of violence. I don’t know exactly why this is always the first option that I lean towards, but my life’s experiences had made me rather vindictive as of late. I usually won’t start any trouble, but bring some of it my way and you’re in for a world of hurt. But that doesn’t excuse what I did to Twilight the day before, just because I knew how to overwrite and blur memories didn’t mean that it was the right thing for me to do. I believe deep down that I just did not want to have that conversation with Twilight, not about the festering darkness that I kept suppressed within. Why couldn’t she just leave it well enough alone?
I was so caught up in my brooding that I hardly noticed Lyra practically shouting for me to notice her.
‘The hours over and done with now, you gonna put me back in my body? Interesting as all of this has been, I sort of miss being able to control my own actions’ The fact that she hadn’t voiced her dissent sooner was a feat in itself. This experience had been strange enough for the two of us.
I shook myself out of my funk, “Right, I apologize for zoning off there”
‘You alright? You sound…out of it’ She spoke with some concern.
“I’m fine” I lied, “Just lost in my thoughts was all”
Before she could inquire further, I brought my attention back to her inactive body, which unsurprisingly, was still very much unconscious. I figured that I wouldn’t need to do anything to break her mental defenses since they needed to be manned in order to stymie any intrusions. I laid both hands on her forehead, lazily noting the feeling of the citrine focal gem against my palms. Satisfied that I could no longer detect any trace of the curse remaining on her person, I closed my eyes and recalled the spell necessary to spirit walk within another being, taking extra care to bring Lyra along for the ride. The familiar sensation of losing all sensation greeted me once the connection was bridged.
⁂
“Huh…this place is somewhat familiar” I spoke to myself. Lyra’s previous spirit realm with her cabin frozen over was missing. Instead it was that same endless void that I saw within my own personal depths (barring that bloody mist).
“This is what the interior of my own soul looks like? It’s a lot drearier than I thought it would be” Came Lyra’s voice from my side, making me turn and glance at her.
“Chillier would have been a better word. Back when I yanked you out of your body, your soulscape was positively covered in snow and ice. Then it decided to self destruct shortly after I nabbed you” Could have been more harrowing, all things considered.
‘Do you think we can, I don’t know…brighten it up a bit?’ She asked, looking upon the darkness with mild disdain.
“It’s your soulscape sweetheart, do with it as you will” I said with a shrug, before summoning the Null Edge and severing the pseudo invisible tether that bound us together with a fell swing, effectively cutting her loose. Now that I’d brought Lyra here with me, my role in this was pretty much over with. Part of me wanted to just cast the exit spell and be done with it, but a larger proportion wanted to see what Lyra would create now that she was in control of her own destiny again.
She looked uncertain of herself at first, glancing behind at me for some kind of cue. I gave her the ghost of a smile and rolled a hand as if to say, ‘go on, don’t be bashful’ and she perked up at the wordless encouragement. She straightened her posture, looking more confident as she experimented with just creating light. Slowly raising a hand, a simulacrum of the Sun started to peek over the horizon, almost mirroring its creator with its timidity. The act of raising her own star inspired her immensely, and she began seeding the ground with what appeared to be flowers. She only got more ambitious as she went on, insta-growing foliage and verdant trees that stood tall and proud in the light of the newly birthed Sun. From the flora came fauna, with creatures like hummingbirds and rabbits materializing from the woodwork and bringing a sense of life to the episode.
‘She and Fluttershy would probably get along quite well’ I internally observed, they seemed to share a love of unbound wildlife. The dryer side of me was envisioning the last few minutes of the Firebird Suite’s trumpets blaring out in style, which was rather adequate for this sudden proliferation of nature.
I raised an eyebrow once I realized that I wasn’t imagining it, and that Stravinsky’s score really was providing background music. I scoffed incredulously; there was no possible way that Lyra gleaned that specific piece from my memory just to use it now. But I had to hand it to her; she faithfully paralleled the scenery from Fantasia almost scene for scene, even sprouting the iconic gorgeous cherry blossom tree close by. Lyra’s rebuilding of her soulscape was almost at its end, with the cabin that she called home for the past few years being the last of her creations. She began morphing into that metaphysical orb of unfathomable power as she made her way up the steps and past her porch. The door to her humble abode gently closed behind her and all was silent once more.
‘That’s my cue to go’ I gave the cabin behind me one last appreciative glance before making my exit. The easily recognizable light at the end of the spell bridge engulfed me and I returned to the world.
I had to blink a few times to rid myself of the spots dotting my vision before all became clear again. It was soon obvious that my hands had moved while I was ‘out’, and were now caressing Lyra’s cheeks (much to her embarrassment). Amusing at it was to see how fast her face could heat up. I still had to make sure that all was well with her.
Not wanting to draw any attention to our new position, I spoke normally, “How do you feel?”
“Warm” Was her one word response, I couldn’t tell if she meant that because of our close proximity or the fact that her curse no longer fed on her natural body heat.
“That’s good to hear” I gingerly removed my hands from her person and stood up. I hurriedly walked towards the bathroom, eager to finally relieve my bladder of its contents.
“Where are you going?” Lyra asked as she sat up, rubbing a hand against her eyes in an attempt to get the sand out.
“To answer the call of nature” Was my curt response, happy that the soul-delving spell didn’t make my own body lose control over its urges. I’ve never wet a bed in my life and I certainly didn’t intend to start now.
I shut the door behind me and granted myself the privacy that I so dearly valued. The cabin lavatory was almost as small as the one in Twilight’s old tower, only this one had a more rustic appearance. I lifted the lid to the toilet and let nature take its course, meanwhile pretending to be the renowned water fountain at Bellagio whilst idly humming to the tune of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly me to the Moon’. It’s an inexplicable urge that only creeps up on me when I have to stand there longer than twenty seconds. I’m weird, what else can I say?
With that taken care of, I immediately searched the sink cupboards for anything that could take the edge off of my fasting breath. Lyra mentioned something about a cycle that guaranteed freshness after every meal. I made a tiny ‘Aha!’ noise as I found what I was looking for. Pulling out a half emptied bottle and holding it up to the light, I read the label.
“Crème de menthe eh? Why am I not surprised?” I said to no one in particular.
I unscrewed the cap and proceeded to birdy a swing. The intensity of this mouthwash was almost overpowering. The commercials for the York patties had nothing on this. Not only did my pupils dilate in response, but a wave of chilling air also set me awash, sending a pleasant electric tingle up and down my spine. Not to mention that it was also pretty tasty flavor wise.
I spat out the rest of the fluid into the sink and shook my head, “Wow! That’s some potent mouthwash right there!” I’d have to add that to my bathroom cupboards once I got the chance.
My eyes also caught sight of an old fashioned shaving razor sitting on the counter. I picked it up and unfolded the blade with a flicking motion. The handles were made of silver and had intricate engravings etched onto them. It looked almost like the same kind of cutthroat razor that Sweeney Todd was fond of using. A morbid corner of my mind brought up the potential uses that this implement had, should Lyra have lost the will to continue on. I involuntarily shuddered at the flow of images and gave myself a good smack on the side of the head with my free hand. Again, I had some serious issues that needed to be resolved, or buried so deep that they couldn’t affect my regular thinking.
I twisted the knob to the sink and wet the blade. I couldn’t find anything I could use to make a lather, so I would have to settle for a pseudo dry shave. The stubble on my bottom neck and chin were starting to get scratchy, so they were the first bristles to be removed. I also mused on the rest of my appearance hair wise, I wasn’t to the level where I would be considered shaggy, but I would need a good trimming before long. I intended to keep the hair covering my forehead untouched however, since it did a decent job of hiding my lack of a focal gem from those in the know.
Speaking of which, I absently pondered what type of gem mine would have been. Perhaps it would be that of a Fire Ruby or Garnet. Its not that I wanted a focal gem per say, but I’ve noticed that a Stellar Mage’s magic is always the same color as that of the focal gem on their brow.
The sound of knocking at the door jolted me out of my introspection.
“You almost done in there? And I thought girls were the ones that took their sweet old time!” Lyra impatiently asserted with a huff from the other end. Well, I suppose I was kind of pussyfooting around.
I finished shaving with a few brisk vertical swipes of the razor, cleaning it with the water and drying it before snapping it shut and placing it back on the counter. I then pulled open the door to come face to mid chest with the keyed up woman.
She let out an agitated exhale, “Finally! I was afraid I was going to have to wait until Hearth’s Warming!” She edged her way past me and brusquely shut the door behind her.
“I didn’t think I took that long” I grumbled, ambling to a corner of the cabin.
Out of bored curiosity, I took another look in the mirror of the dresser, satisfied to find that my eyes no longer had any specks of Lyra’s influence left. It was a curious aftereffect of a soul transfer to be sure, but I didn’t plan on making a habit of it. Whereas someone like Twilight would be dead set on replicating such a scenario for the sake of discovery, consequences be damned. The mere act of thinking about her made my mood sour considerably, the memory of her lapse in judgment was just still too fresh for me to be completely unfazed. I wasn’t completely innocent in the matter either, but it was either muddle her entire memory of the event, or put up with the inevitable heart to heart nonsense that I’d be put through. Which not only annoyed the hell out of me, but life experience had taught me was ineffective as well.
Lyra emerged from the restroom looking fit as a fiddle and with a cheery smile on her face. I guess her morning routine could only be complete if she tidied up her appearance properly. I reduced my scowl until it was no longer noticeable as I regarded her approach.
She came up to me and spoke haughtily, making sure to breathe in my face, “Don’t have morning breath now do I?” Jeez, was she still sore about that?
“Neither do I for that matter, welcome to the club!” I disparagingly quipped at her, much to her dissatisfaction.
That tiny upward wrinkle on her lip told me that she sincerely enjoyed our banter despite my flippancy. I guess it’s because I’m the first real human contact that she’s had in a long time. It’s a real shame that she got someone like me for it though.
Our lull in the conversation was cut into by distinct rumbling of a hungry stomach. And for once, it wasn’t mine this time.
Lyra looked mildly embarrassed by the unsubtle demands of her body, “We should probably commence with the most important meal of the day huh?” She chuckled nervously and rubbed at one of her arms. I never understood why some people did that. Must’ve been a variant of a tic, like Twilight’s right eye twitching whenever she was stumped by something, for instance.
I nodded in agreement, “That seems like a prudent idea” I then smirked at her, “I don’t know about you, but I’m in the mood for some sandviches” And no, I didn’t expect her to make me one.
She looked hesitant at my proposition, “My pantry is all out of the things we’d need to make those” It was true too, her stocks were rather paltry for what I had in mind.
She then realized that I had put a Russian spin on my last word, “Wait…did you say sand-viches?” She repeated, rolling it off her tongue as if sampling the inflection.
“Da, sandviches” I said in a near perfect imitation of the Heavy’s voice.
“Okay holdup. Say sand” I did as she asked, “Now witch” She got the same result with clear pronunciation from me.
Meanwhile I was laughing uproariously on the inside, ‘She’s making this way too easy for me’
“Now say sandwich” She spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable as though she were speaking to a child. I wanted to snort derisively at the notion. I wasn’t that immature.
“Sandvich” I impudently persisted with grin, eliciting a strained groan out of the vexed woman.
“Ugh, never mind. It’s simply not worth the headache” She rubbed at her temples and indistinctly muttered something about how strange extra terrestrials were.
“More to the point, do you know any good places for that? It’ll be my treat!” I offered like a proper chivalric man, patting the munny pouch and making the numerous coins inside clink together.
‘Actually, doing that just makes me look more like a pretentious rich boy’ Not that it isn’t nice having such a plump stipend from Royalty.
She gave it some thought before answering, “There is one place that comes to mind, overly generous portions, decent prices, and they have the best malted shakes to boot!” Based on that anticipative gleam in her eye, that was where we were going, regardless of whether I agreed to it or not.
“Sounds good to me, this place got a name?”
“Folks just call it the local diner, I don’t know what its actual name is” She replied casually, that sort of thing wasn’t of importance to her it seemed.
“In that case” I motioned for her to show me the way, “Lead on”
She obliged and we left the confines of her homely shelter, making our way past the apple trees that were naturally shedding their fruit as they overly ripened. From what small glances I had of Lyra’s pantry, she had stores upon stores of the pomaceous sustenance. I was downright sick of eating apple themed foods after a single week, so I could only imagine what my companion must have felt after sustaining herself on them for years. I silently vowed to make certain that I would treat Lyra to whatever her heart’s desire, just as a way of making up for such a tragedy, even if the impact would only be slight.
The woman was oddly quiet as we walked, looking deeply preoccupied with cogitation. I had a couple speculations as to what topics, she had recently been shown grace and freed from her curse, but she had to be wondering if it really meant anything. From what little I could glean from her personality, she bounced back from almost anything quite easily. But her ordeal pushed that tolerance to its breaking point, threatening to rob her of all hope for a normal and happy life. I briefly opened my mouth to say something encouraging, but swiftly closed it and kept equally noiseless for her sake, allowing space for her to form her own opinions as to what she would do with this opportunity that had been given to her.
It was rather late in the morning, so there were plenty of people out and about. Some of them greeted us in a friendly manner, which I returned on behalf of the currently engrossed Lyra and myself. The diner itself was located more to the outskirts of town, so there weren’t many houses or other kinds of buildings in its general vicinity. The architecture of the diner matched that of its brethren, with a thatched roof that lent it that Germanic country appearance I was still getting used to.
An enticing smell of meat being cooked on a grill wafted from the open doors, setting our mouths salivating and inviting us inside. There was a lit up sign above the restaurant depicting a variety of greasy spoon meals that made me feel right at home. My eating habits had a severe weakness for fast food, which meant that whenever I did eat out, I binged like crazy. I blame my picky taste buds for making me so susceptible to any beef themed products.
I held the door open like a right gentleman and received a halfhearted murmur of thanks from the mint haired woman. She gradually began leaving her contemplative shell as her hunger pangs returned full force, and she began to survey the menu as we got in line. The interior was a mix between a Johnny Rockets and those outdoor cafés that dotted the Magiville grid, with a metallic counter with barstools lining the side and a partially open kitchen in the back. The majority of the tables were wooden and the seats for those looked like someone had chopped a barrel in half and planted it into the floorboards.
I took my eyes off of my surroundings and towards the menu. It was your standard fare with good prices (ten bits got you the typical meal deal) and a decent selection. The line moved fast and orderly, with people making their orders and forking over their bits, while the uniformed employees wrote a combination of numbers on a slip of paper and attached them to clips hanging over the windows leading to the kitchen. The diner was only about halfway full to capacity, so there wouldn’t be much of a fuss over finding us a table.
Lyra apparently didn’t mind taking advantage of my kindly offer for brunch, burdening the poor kitchen staff by piling on no less than four saddlebag burgers with fries (think half pounders with everything on top), three malted shakes of differing flavors, and a key lime pie just to sweeten the deal.
“Will that be for the t-two of you?” The flabbergasted restaurant cashier stammered out, gaping at the hefty amount of food that she requested.
“No, I’ll also have what she’s having” I said with a perfectly straight face, though his mortified expression had me cackling inside. I also wanted to try asking for a diet water, but I felt that we were screwing with the guy plenty enough. It took him a brief moment to comprehend the two big eaters standing in front of him, but he recovered soon enough.
“Will that be for here or to go?” I glanced over at Lyra, who shrugged noncommittally.
“Here, I think” I answered, imagining offhand what their to go bags probably looked like.
“Alrighty, that’ll be sixty bits please” I fished out a hundred piece and handed it to him, thinking I would settle for change. He frowned after looking at the stamp and gave it back to me.
“Sorry sir, but we don’t take centuplicate pieces. Fairly recent policy I’m afraid” He apologized. What was this? A ‘no bills over twenty’ universal constant?
I muttered something unintelligible in petty complaint and painstakingly dug out six tenners to give to the man. He smiled graciously and thanked us before handing us a thin card with a number on it. We got ourselves settled into a table by the window and I inserted the card into its respective holder as we awaited our food. Lyra looked out the window at the passing people and sighed forlornly.
“Something ailing you?” I rhetorically inquired.
“I’m debating whether or not I should try revealing myself to my friends and family” She answered, still not meeting my gaze.
Needless to say I found that statement to be puzzling, “What is there to debate? You want to see them again don’t you?”
She narrowed her eyes and wobbled her head in response, “You don’t understand, I feel like I would just be invading their lives or something. They don’t deserve to have me intrude upon them after all this time. I should just stay forgotten” She finished lamely.
‘That’s a poor excuse if I ever heard one. Do I really have to put up with this new downer Lyra?’
I narrowed my eyes right back, “If I recall correctly, your tune was different yesterday. Does ‘I’d do almost anything to return to my loved ones’ ring a bell?” I repeated her words from last we met, much to her consternation.
“Well yeah but…that was before I found out that you could save me!” She protested, her raised volume drawing a few stares in our direction. My smoldering warning glare had their heads swiveling back to their own business post haste.
I scoffed and crossed my arms together, mentally cursing the lack of back support these barrel seats had, “Lyra Heartstrings, I saw in you a persistent and even cheerful person who could find the smallest details of good worth living for in an otherwise hopeless situation. And this sudden fatalistic attitude of yours, quite frankly…it angers me” Her eyes slowly widened as I bore down on her verbally.
I continued my onslaught, “Am I a liar Lyra? Was I mistaken when I felt the hard determination behind your every decision to endure that curse to the best of your ability? Or was I just peeking at shadows? Shades that would simply vanish when the night was over and the Sun rose?” I quivered a hand to illustrate my point. I liked to speak using lots of hand gestures; I was told that an effective speaker utilizes such actions to get his point across more clearly.
She had the good grace to look ashamed, “I’m so sorry! You must think me so ungrateful of your gift…its just, I’m so afraid that they’ll end up rejecti-”
I interrupted her by laying a hand on her shoulder from across the table, compelling her to look me in the eye, “Fret not my dear, not even the strongest curse can make those who love you truly forget that love for you. So what if their memory turns out to be faulty? It can’t change the fact that they found you to be a delightful influence on their lives in the first place” The more I spoke, the less demoralized she looked, her posturing becoming more straight and upright.
I hammered the point home with a confident boast, “I’ll bet you all the wealth in existence that they feel like something…or more specifically someone is missing from their existence. Would you let such a travesty continue to linger? Or would you go out there and rectify it?”
“I would restore that which was lost, and all the captives of Tartarus couldn’t stop me!” She exclaimed positively, her expression no longer gloomy.
I grinned nice and wide, “Splendid! But that can wait, our food is here” One can’t expect to effect constructive change on an empty stomach.
The waitress holding both of our heavily laded trays expertly balanced them as she set them on the table. On her hands was the Mana mark of a plate and a pitcher of coffee side by side. Normally I would have felt pity for anyone relegated to a life of waitressing, but the sincere smile on her face told me that she was content with her lot in life. A sobering thought really, coming from a society where people were always trying to advance themselves into what they deemed as a higher, more prestigious position; and here was this middle age woman, acting as if she had just scored the job of her dreams.
‘I’ll be sure to tip her good’
The delectable smell of the food in front of me called out to me, demanding that I engorge myself until I was satisfied. Mr. Tummy seconded the motion with a rumbling gurgle. But before I dug into my meal, I shut my eyes and uttered a few words of thanks. Something which did not go unnoticed by Lyra, who had already taken a large chunk out of her burger with an unladylike chomp.
“Who are you talking to?” She asked with her mouth half full, arching an eyebrow at me.
I answered without skipping a beat, “The Creator, to whom I give thanks to on a daily basis”
She craned her neck sideways, “You didn’t strike me as a man of deep faith” She said with mild surprise in her voice.
“And what makes you say that?” I asked in return, taking a squeeze bottle of ketchup and decorating my mountain of horseshoe shaped French fries with wavy patterns.
‘I’ve heard of shoestring fries, but horseshoe fries are a little on the ridiculous side for me. Crispy tasting though’ I thought appreciatively as I chewed on a small handful of said fries.
She contemplated her response, “I dunno, you always seemed too…solemn. It’s hard for me to explain accurately. I think it mainly stems from the fact that you rarely smile, and that steely glint in your eyes doesn’t suggest anything reverently pious. I didn’t see anything in your memories offering anything to the contrary either” She explicated between bites of her hamburger.
“You could peruse through all of my memories, and you still wouldn’t know me half as well as you’d think. A lot of things have influenced me as a person, and it would be an injustice to say that you understand someone based off of faulty memories alone” No matter how in depth the memories were, I still wouldn’t really know how Lyra behaved or reacted to things with full accuracy. Although I’ve gotten a decent read of the prelude, from what I’ve already seen.
“Furthermore, perhaps one of the reasons that I believe is because I am like this” I added, savoring the balance between crunchiness and malleability of the finger food, I might just have to make this place a regular stop.
“Hmm, fair enough. I’ve always been rather ambivalent myself as far as the bigger picture goes. I want to believe that there is a greater force out there, watching over all of us. But sometimes…I just don’t know” Her tone went pensive at the end.
She looked downwards at the table in a self reflective way before looking back at me, “All that aside, at least I can say that one of my prayers has been answered” She projected a beautiful smile to me, with the thousand island sauce trailing from her lip somehow adding to how cute she appeared.
‘I need to watch it, I’m starting to get enchanted by every girl I somehow connect on a deeper level to’ That’s a minefield I won’t be stepping into today, thank you very much.
We ate the rest of our meal in relative peace, with one of us making a comment every now and again about how delicious the food was. After we had finished wolfing down the beefy sandviches (I idly wondered how much of this beef was supplied by Sweet Apple Acres), we partook of our malted shakes. Lyra wasn’t lying when she said that this place made some great milkshakes, all it took was one sip from my straw before I was sent on a journey of flavors. I could only liken it to that one scene in Ratatouille where Remy is describing to his brother Emile how individual tastes on their own can be great, but when combined, could be wondrous. I could already see the streams of color in my minds eye meshing together like two lovers doing the Tango to a particularly spicy song.
The key lime pie was nothing to write home about, if I could even write home that is. I grit my teeth and dismissed it, reminding myself about my seclusion from home was only going to spoil my good mood if I wasn’t careful. We polished off the last of our brunch food and I left a very generous tip for the waitress who was servicing all of the tables solo, and doing a damn fine job of it too.
We left the quaint restaurant after washing our hands in their restroom and left. My companion suppressed an undignified belch and giggled bashfully, fully expecting me to disapprove in some way. Only to gape openly when I one-up’ed her with a discharge of air that actually echoed throughout the valley. We stopped momentarily to make sure no one else was watching before bursting into laughter. I wiped some moisture from my eyes; it felt good having someone whose blatant disregard for casual decorum was only outclassed my mine. It reminded me of the times that I shared with Daring, although with significantly fewer innuendos being traded and less usage of myself as a pack mule.
‘I wonder what she’s up to? Probably stumbling onto something important, while kicking ass and looking damn fine doing it’ I hadn’t received any letters from her so far, so I’d either have to wait some more, or check in with Celestia over the status of her assignment.
Eventually we reached a fork in the path, with one end leading to the eastern part of town, and the other to the western part. Lyra was looking wistfully to the path on the left, while I had business with the one on the right.
“I suppose this is where we temporarily part ways” Was all I could say.
Instead of answering me, she embraced me in an unexpected hug. Which I had the good grace to return once I had gotten over my minute shock of sudden physical affection.
“Thanks for early lunch. Wish me luck!” She waved farewell to me as she jogged down the road with a firm sense of moxie in every step.
I didn’t believe in the concept of luck, but I wished her the best anyways. I twisted to the right and set down the path that would hopefully lead me to the home of Magiville’s greatest seamstress. I had a set of robes that I wanted to see the progress of. Rarity had likely finished making them by now, given her reputable skill. I hadn’t spent enough time around her to see how efficient she was at her craft, but I knew that a full week was plenty of time for the up and coming fashionista to work ‘ze magicks’ so to speak. Which in turn made me wonder if I was going to run into a certain fashion photographer anytime soon.
I found the Carousel Boutique after a couple dead ends that forced me to do some back tracking (something I secretly hated with a passion) until I finally came across the marker I was searching for. One of the very few things I appreciated about the Boutique’s flashy appearance was that it always had a small flag hoisted at the very top that flew in the wind, which also acted as a type of beacon; given how the flag itself shimmered in the sunlight. I stopped at the door to practice my knock and enter drill before wiping my shoes on the welcome mat and stepping inside.
The interior of the Boutique was different this time, with racks upon racks of casual and formal wear organized into neat little rows all around the circular wall. There were also customers beside myself looking up and down the isles for something that suited their tastes. Not that it was entirely relevant, but each and every one of them was female. Why was it that I never saw any guys bankrolling this place? Perhaps it had something to do with the overwhelming gender disparity leading to Rarity fashioning less in the way of men’s wear and catering mostly to the gals.
Speaking of whom, I couldn’t find the high-class aspirant woman anywhere. It made me wonder how she handled the customers who actually wanted to purchase something, since I couldn’t see a register anywhere either for that matter. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes once I saw that my arrival had drawn the interested stares of more than a few of the ladies browsing the dresses, which were all wrapped up in those plastic garment bags that one would commonly see at a dry cleaners. I hypothesized the reason for this being that Rarity absolutely despised anything that she created getting filthy by all the possibly soiled hands touching her works. This was somewhat ironic given how messy her workspace usually was.
‘Rarity really should invest in one of those desk service bells’ I groused, the new layout of the selling floor made it rather difficult to spot the woman. Even if she was the only one with a Royal Purple hairdo done in that fancy curl, which I had no name for.
I was contemplating just climbing the stairs to attract the woman’s attention if she was groundside by chance or hunt her down if she was too busy for us common folk languishing below. Thankfully, it wasn’t a decision that I had to make, as Rarity descended the stairs with a satisfied looking customer in tow; lavishing her with compliments on her new appearance all the while. It took me a moment to realize that the happy looking customer was in fact, Golden Harvest. And she was actually smiling for a change, wearing a flowing green gown of satin that made her look like a reverse color coded carrot. Her hair, ordinarily messy and unkempt, was now almost as pristine and swirly as Rarity’s.
“…I promise you darling, he’ll simply love your new ensemble! It is all but guaranteed to make you the appl- er, carrot of his eye” Rarity abashedly corrected herself, subtly adjusting those ridiculous half moon spectacles from a bygone era.
Goldy bristled with pride, “Pretty sure I have him hooked, but I want him to stay interested. Can’t be too careful ya’ know?” She stated with a girlish giggle that belied her gruffness.
“Yes, quite” The seamstress automatically agreed with an ingratiating nod, the customer was always ultimately right.
To be honest, Carrot top’s voice was still too grating to lend her a proper lady’s disposition. She was at her heart, a country girl like Applejack (heck, they live right next door to each other!). You could slap as much make up and accessories on them as you like, and they might look the part, but once they start speaking earnestly, the charade is over. Perhaps I was being a little harsh on her, but that cold aggression towards me didn’t do my opinion of her any favors. Kinda like the downright frigid way she was looking at me right now, with her posture immediately stiffening in response to my presence and her previous simper disappearing faster than a politician’s promises after Election Day. It’s like she knows something…
Rarity tilted her head in confusion as she followed Goldy’s line of sight, “Golden? What’s the matt-, oh! Zenith! What brings you to my humble shop?” She asked with an immaculate smile.
“Good morning Rarity. I’m just here to check up on that commission I made a short while ago, among other things” I answered with a polite downward incline of my neck, keeping my eyes locked on Golden Harvest the entire time.
‘Now’s as good a time as any’ I needed to have words with her.
“Do you mind if I have a private chat with your spiffy looking customer here?” I gesticulated to Golden, whose eyes narrowed at my actions.
Rarity processed my request for a few seconds before agreeing straightaway, likely reading between the lines, “I don’t see why not! If you need me, I’ll be assisting my other clients” She wandered off to another part of the Boutique to do just that…or hide behind a clothing rack to eavesdrop. I really didn’t care either way.
I had barely opened my mouth before receiving a hostile “What do you want?” from the cantankerous woman, who was tapping her heeled shoe against the flooring irritably.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “Look, we need to discuss a few things. Namely things that happened on a certain holiday that concerns you specifically”
Her reaction was first that of shock, before she returned to her cold aggressive stance, “What about it? I already told you that I don’t want any of your damned sympathies” She spat with the same vitriol as before.
“I didn’t come to offer you my sympathy, I came to ask for your forgiveness, for wronging you to begin with” I made sure my posturing reflected that sentiment, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast, and less confidence overall. She didn’t need to know that my acting skills were second to none when I found it necessary.
She was quiet for an indeterminate amount of time, grasping the significance of what I had just asked.
When she spoke again, her voice was that of an unreadable calm, “It was you wasn’t it? I knew there was a reason why your eyes bothered me so much, they were the same ones I peered into that night…the night I thought I lost all of my friends” That explains why she was instantly critical of me, she instinctively knew that it was I who terrified her.
“Before you jump to conclusions, you need to know the whole story” I pleaded with a hand held out, not willing to provoke the woman’s ire in front of so many witnesses.
She crossed her arms together, “I’m listening” She said with unexpected forbearance. I played it cool as to keep the metaphorical ball rolling.
“I never intended for what happened that night to escalate as much as it did, but by the time I realized that something was terribly wrong, and I was unable to stop myself. You see…being possessed by a remnant of the Night Terror’s dark essence tends to cloud one’s sense of judgment” I naturally let some sarcasm seep into my voice to emphasize that I wasn’t amused by that torturous experience either.
She scoffed, “Really? You’re saying that the Night Terror possessed you to paralyze and frighten both myself and my friends into thinking those were our last moments alive, right after we had just given offerings to said spirit?”
“No, the spirit took over as soon as I realized that your fear was actually feeding me…it, whatever! Its influence was so subtle that I didn’t even pick up on its malevolence until I was no longer in a position to do much about it. You can ask any of the Element bearers and they’ll vouch for my relative innocence. The point is…I wasn’t entirely in control of my actions past a certain point when I was shadowing your little group” I clarified with mounting frustration, remembering the horrific feeling of having my body ‘snatched’ from me.
I anticipated her skeptical bearing towards what sounded like a poor justification and worked to head it off, “I realize that this doesn’t excuse that I was following you with the intent to scare either. I’m not exactly proud of the Fright Night act I pulled on you and uhm, if you feel like pressing charges…I won’t blame you for doing so” I deliberately winced and looked off to the side, milking the vulnerability I was projecting for every last drop. My normal impassive attitude didn’t come off as repentant, so I had to resort to somewhat unscrupulous measures to achieve my objective.
I didn’t need to see Golden Harvest’s face to know that my act had taken its intended effect. From what my clandestine spell scanning of her empathic aura told me, she was deeply conflicted with what I had revealed to her. Part of her wanted to throw me in the clink and be done with it, but another and more importantly larger portion wanted to simply leave this behind her.
“I-I…f-forgive you” She spoke in a shaky voice, prompting me to look at her.
She held up a conditional finger, “But you’re never purchasing carrots from me again, got it?” I nodded my head in a wordless affirmative. Her carrots weren’t anything special anyway.
‘Oh the humanity! I could just fly home and cry myself to sleep with sheer grief over losing such an illustrious privilege!’ I melodramatically despaired inside my head. Even when marginally apologetic, I’m still finding ways to snipe at people.
I bowed to her, feigning sufferance, “That is perfectly acceptable, miss Golden Harvest. I shall defer to your fair punishment for my heinous actions”
“Whatever” She spoke dismissively, before adding in a quieter tone, “…I guess I do have you to thank for leading Gizmo to me…”
“I trust that he treats you with the respect accorded to you?” I asked, if Rarity was listening in as I suspected, she would love to hear some details.
She regarded me with a wary eye, but relented, “He does. That oaf can be incredibly clumsy and awkward, but he has a big heart. He’s one of the few people that can actually stand to be around me when I get into one of my ‘moods’, and I can respect him for that” She explained, appreciation instilled into her voice.
“May he continue to do so then” I conventionally responded, automatically growing weary of this talk. I’m not really one of those nosy persons who want to hear all about someone else’s relationships, especially not from Carrot top of all people.
Goldy grunted something indiscernible and removed herself from my presence, having grown equally tired of dealing with me. I saw Rarity pass by me mouthing what looked like a ‘be patient please’ as she saw to her other patrons. I found a nice empty place to sit out the rest of the morning rush and seclude myself from the banal topics of conversation that many shoppers projected to each other somewhat loudly, as though they were completely unaware of the people well within hearing range. I didn’t even need to rely on my Valkyrian hearing to eavesdrop on somebody standing on the opposite side of the Boutique, haughtily boasting about having slightly more colorful Tulips than her neighbor, along with the tired sigh of someone who likely heard the same story before.
I was idly wondering how Lyra’s day was going when the last customer exited the store. A relieved looking Rarity ran a hand along a miniscule non-coiffured partition of her hair and sighed worriedly. She then straightened out her posture and addressed me.
“Now that that’s out of the way, how may I be of service to you Zenith?” She asked in that highbrow manner of hers. I could tell that something was on her mind however, since her act seemed more forced than usual.
“Just checking in on the creation of my robe set, I can’t always go around wearing unrefined garb now can I?” I reasoned. Jeans and a T-shirt could only get one so far and through so many occasions.
Her eyes lit up with that artistic glee characteristic of her craft, “I’m so glad you choose this time to ask! I’ve just finished putting the final touches on it yesterday. I have it exhibited upstairs in my personal showroom. This way please” She waved a hand to follow her.
I sat up from the felt covered stool and got to my feet in order to accompany the fashion designer up the stairs. Instead of taking me to the room where she stitched together all her clothes, she ushered me into the one just across from it. Inside was pitch black and mysterious, tempting me to augment my eyes with a night vision spell. But before I could do so, Rarity clapped twice and the room was suddenly illuminated. The light revealed a set of platforms that were positioned around us in the shape of a crescent, with each platform nearing the middle of the crescent elevated above its preceding brethren.
In the center and on the highest stand were my robes. Now, I wasn’t normally impressed by any kind of fashion, but in this case I thought that it looked magnificent right off the bat. It did not resemble how I had envisioned it. In fact, it looked even better. The closest comparison would have been if the best traits of the Armor of Altair and Helmschmied Drachen Armor were married. Serious props to Rarity on this masterpiece made real. I could practically feel the sophistication radiating off of the outfit in tangible waves.
The beaked hood was drawn over the mannequin’s head and completely veiled its face in shadow, just as I had specified in my sketched designs. The lapels were of a rich shade of red with ornate designs embroidered into the cloth. The sleeves were barber striped in a crimson and black pattern that weren’t bright enough to attract attention, but looked damned refined when it caught the light. The leggings were plain, but made of a silky textile that felt like it would glide comfortably over the skin, Rarity even had the foresight to include a pair of black leather buckled boots to go with it. The chest proportion was intricately designed and displayed its colors proudly, with the telltale diamond insignia of its maker cleverly inserted in places where only the most observant could spot it.
The belt region was metallic and ornately molded in the style of an infinite triangle; which was inspired by the symbol on the pommel of my Tantō. I noted with interest that fire rubies were encrusted into the wavy bands of metal that surrounded both sides of that symbol. The belt also had multiple loops, pouches, and useful attachment points for things like throwing knives or other implements. The layered flaps on the lower front and back section of the robes were long and flowing, looking very reminiscent to the wings of a majestic bird of prey. I especially admired the reddish trim lining the edges of the outfit, which lent it an aura of calm and unfaltering lethality. The whole piece also appeared to be form fitting enough to accommodate armor if I ever felt the need.
Something was missing though, “Where is the blade fragment holster?” I asked, looking the outfit up and down in case I overlooked it.
She answered hesitantly, mildly afraid of my response to the alteration, “It…interfered with the overall beauty of the set, and so after some intense deliberation on my part, I decided to take the holster’s dimensions into account and sew pockets into the lower portions of your robes instead. I hope you don’t mind” She innocently injected at the end.
I gave it some thought. The ad hoc scabbards could not only conceal my blade fragments, but also act like a form of spaced armor with them contained inside. I grabbed one of the lowest strips and visually appraised it, running my fingers through the slips in the smooth material. The length easily allowed for the longer pieces of my Mage blade to be sheathed and brandished with no one the wiser. My disappointment over a lack of a holster quickly evaporated.
“Good thinking Lady Rarity, I knew there was a reason why I chose you as my go to couture designer” I grinned at her exemplary handle on innovation. She all but swooned at the praise, her cheeks painted with a tinge of rose.
She smiled at me, “Anything for a Prince such as yourself Zenith, think of it as my way of saying thanks for that favor…” She drew a tentative hand across her chest, “…though, I find myself in a most undesirable position of asking for your favor yet again” She bit her lip and stared up at me.
‘I knew there was some kind of catch’ When is there not? This is Rarity I’m talking to.
“I will…consider it” I responded carefully, “Provided you can enlighten me as to what that favor requires of me”
She pounced at the opportunity, “As you might recall darling, I was very much inspired by the robes that you commissioned from me. So inspired in fact, that I made a multitude of other designs that I would just love to incorporate into the upcoming winter fashion runway show being hosted in the wondrous city of Concordia!” She exclaimed with stars glittering in her eyes.
The brow of incredulity stood tall and proud, “And you’re telling me this why? It’s not like you need my permission to showcase those designs”
She shook her head, “You misunderstand darling. I need a man to model those designs for the fashion world at large, it wouldn’t look as fetching on myself now would it?” She explained, fluttering her extended eyelashes ingratiatingly at me.
‘Oh hell no!’ That meant being stared at by dozens of snobby people and being judged based on my inherent poise and sense of elegance, and I couldn’t be bothered to care about such grandiose things.
The reluctance must have been evident on my face, because Rarity immediately went into beseeching mode, “I beg of you Zenith! It would be such a shame to let those outfits uselessly gather dust on the rack! It would be…it would be…a downright crime against fashion!” Really? That’s her excuse?
My right eye twitched agitatedly as I was put on the spot. If I refused, I would likely lose favor with Rarity and endanger my good standing with her. Not to mention that this was a chance for her to expand her mostly female exclusive designs into the realm of male fashions (even though I had no idea how large or small that realm was given the gender disparity) and garner some more recognition for her world-class sewing skills. I then remembered a few important things that I forgotten, such as important business I needed to see to in the Capital; namely with a gorgeous cellist and a confectionary that sold cheesecake.
Looks like my hands were kinda tied on this one, “I accept” I cut off Rarity before she could thank me profusely, “Conditionally that is…”
She blinked, “And just what are those conditions, pray tell?”
I held up a finger, “First and foremost, you must never force me to act a certain way at any social functions that you’ll inevitably end up dragging me to. The second condition…is that I can make up conditions as I see fit” I added after a short pause. An elastic agreement is the best kind in my opinion.
She cast her eyes downward in rumination, “I cannot protest to any of your terms since I’m still feeling rather ecstatic about revealing my new designs to everyone. However, I must ask that you at least retain a professional and polite demeanor to those who will be hosting us in their home over the course of the event” She lay down her one ground rule.
“Of course! You don’t expect me to act like some ill mannered brigand do you?” I folded my arms in response to the implication. I did have my own set of standards that I adhered to.
“I never implied that you would be anything but an absolute gentleman darling. Now are you going to try on those robes? Or would you like me to…assist you in putting them on?” Oh Rarity, always finding some way to subtly flirt while relating it to her business.
“I think I’ll manage on my own. Do you have any privacy screens I can make use of?” I asked, not being baited into playing this game with her.
Her turn to pout, “Oh sap the fun out of it, why don’t you? Indeed I do dear. I’ll set one up for you” She used her magic to open a cabinet and pulled out one of those folding screens that were ubiquitous in older times back home. Rarity had flowery ones that were a tad girly, but it was either put up with those or put on a free strip tease for the incorrigible woman.
I levitated my new robes off of the mannequin and examined them, removing the belt as I did so. The method for putting them on seemed to involve unstrapping the back clasps and proceeding to fold it around the torso. I did so (with my handy dandy magic) and was impressed by how well they formed around me. I slipped into the leggings and boots and hooked the belt around me as an afterthought, wanting to get a feel for the whole outfit. It looked like that time I spent standing absolutely still for Rarity paid off in spades. My robes fit my body like a well-worn glove; the silk lining the inner layers kissed my skin while additionally allowing for circulation. To paraphrase Edna Mode, ‘it breathed like Egyptian cotton’. They also obeyed the ‘no capes!’ rule she was ardently unyielding about.
I stepped out from behind the screen and presented myself in front of the vanity mirror that hung from the door. These robes suited me quite well, despite the current lack of hidden blade vambraces or protective coverings. The footwear was also strangely snug and without any of that ‘out of the box’ stiffness that would impede mobility. Wearing these prominent clothes was like discovering a new facet to myself. Whereas my casual attire portrayed me in a few sentences, this new look did so in whole books; such was the difference. It was if donning those robes empowered me. I not only looked like a paragon of virtuosity, I felt like one too.
Rarity was even more floored by how much of a change took place, holding a hand up to her mouth and speaking in hushed tones of awe.
I faced her with my arms held wide, “Well? What do you think of it?”
She snapped out of her trance once she heard me speak, “They always say that clothes make the man. But in this case Zenith, you make those robes simply resplendent! Mere words cannot do it justice!” She gushed, unable to take her eyes off me.
“Wow…that certainly puts my assessment to shame” I diffidently remarked, uncomfortable under her almost hungry gaze.
She sauntered closer to me, tracing a delicate hand along my chest, “I dare say that you look truly like a Prince” She complimented with a husky voice, which I decided to pointedly ignore.
“Lemme know if there are any damsels in need of saving” I jested, causing her to scowl at my cheeky comment.
‘Your feminine wiles won’t work on me woman’ I faux sneered on the inside, smirking at her in the meantime.
She let out a ladylike ‘hmph!’, “I’ll capture your heart yet, Zenith” She vowed, gently poking a finger in my chest.
“We’ll see” Was my neutral reply. She had some serious competition in that category.
She piped up, “But first! Allow me to express my gratitude for agreeing to accompany me to Concordia”
I held up a hand to object, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary mis-”
She silenced me by laying that same finger on my lips, “Hush, my dear Zenith. Allowing me to treat you to the spa won’t kill you” Her predatory smile had me believe otherwise.
I briefly contemplated biting her finger, but thought better of it, “I’m a guy, Rarity. Meaning that spas and I don’t mesh together all that well by default. Besides, don’t you and Fluttershy have a get together there once a week?”
She hummed in an affirmative way, “We do, but why must I limit myself to a well deserved pampering only once per week? Think of it as regularly giving to the Spa twin’s imperative business” Oh, she’s good. Playing it off as being generous to someone else’s coffers instead of making me squirm.
I narrowed my eyes at her deviousness, “I see that I’m not likely to dissuade you from this. But if you try to make me do any activities I consider overly emasculating, I’ll blow the joint faster than a jackrabbit hopped up on speed” And that’s a guarantee.
Her face wrinkled as she tried to process my last statement, shaking her head to recover, “Aloe and Lotus are the best at what they do. Believe me when I tell you that you’ll be in very good hands”
“Sure sure, just let me switch back to regular clothes would ya? Robes such as these should not be wasted on anything less than official occasions or grand ceremonies. It would be profane” I withdrew behind the privacy screen before she could get a word in edgewise.
I emerged before long redressed in my normal clothes, that strange feeling of empowerment having left me as soon as I shimmied out of the robes. It made me wonder if there was a special enchantment on it or if my sense of surety was bolstered by what I wore. I usually wasn’t someone who placed excessive emphasis on their outward appearance, but I could make an exception if it meant feeling like I could take on the entire world with nary a scratch. With that in mind, I tenderly placed my expertly crafted garments back on the mannequin.
Rarity looked disappointed by my reverting back to clothes that she likely perceived as plain and unbefitting of what she apparently saw as a Prince. A major reason why I was being so stubbornly resistant to her advances was due to that personal sentiment. I didn’t want to be seen as a Prince and I sure as hell didn’t want Rarity to express interest in that Prince, I had enough difficulty relating to her as it was. I didn’t need to be placed on some pedestal and fawned over by someone too star struck to realize that she was unknowingly alienating me. Sooner or later I was going to have to have a serious talk to her about that.
We descended the stairs without any kind of interruptions, as Sweetie Belle was at school at this time. Rarity had me wait outside while she locked up the Boutique temporarily, placing a ‘Fashion Emergency, be back in a flash!’ sign on the door as she joined me. Her body language suggested that she always looked forward to her trips to the Spa, with a bounce in her step and liveliness in every motion. She also took the liberty of attaching herself to my person, and while normally I would relish having such nice eye candy under my arm, Rarity’s proximity put me on edge more so than I would like.
After about thirty minutes of a casual stroll through town and ignoring all the stares that the physical display of affection attracted, we finally reached the Magiville Spa. I was well aware that Rarity had taken more than a couple detours to get here, wanting to flaunt me to everybody in town like a kid with a trust fund. I was secretly grateful that none of her other friends saw us during this, because then I’d never hear the end of it. Just imagining Pinkie setting up some kind of ‘Congrats on the new addition to your love nest!’ shindig made my insides churn.
The Magiville Spa itself was a grand looking structure of medium size, standing alone but dignified with the notorious prank store nearby. It was shaped like a tent, with golden crowns jutting out of the many peaks that stabbed at the sky. A large sign hung over the doorway, advertising the silhouette of a nondescript female posed in a glamorous stance, sparkles of glitter floating over her long hair.
Rarity disconnected herself from me and clapped excitedly, making a noise not unlike a squeal of delight, “This is the place! Isn’t it just marvelous?” She asked, rapidly swapping her gaze between the Spa and myself as she did so.
“It’s something alright” I drily replied, not bothering to even hide how unenthused I was with this whole thing. Rarity disregarded my lifeless attitude and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me inside with unexpected strength.
The bell above the door jingled as we made our way past the threshold. A desk with a stylistic billboard hanging over the wall behind it greeted us. There was a setup similar to a waiting room just before the counter, with magazines appealing to various tastes piled atop a coffee table that was digging a groove in the circular carpet. The air smelled heavily of flowers and other aromatic products that you’d typically associate with laundry detergents. Rarity wandered up to the welcoming desk and chimed the service bell, completely ignorant to her own need of one.
“Be zhere in a moment!” An accented voice called out from somewhere in the back. I couldn’t pin down its origin for the life of me. I’d have to hear more, but my best guess would have been this Universe’s equivalent to the Alsace-Lorraine, where the French and German accents converged, with a bit of Swedish thrown in for good measure.
After the spoken moment had passed, a woman with shiny light blue hair tied back with a white headband and sporting a unique choker with a pink dot in the center appeared from around the corner and took her place at the desk, greeting us with a winning smile. If memory served correctly, this sister was the one named Aloe.
Her eyes flashed with recognition once they beheld Rarity, “Ah, mizz Rarity, always a pleasure to see you. Alzhough…you’ve never brought male company with you before” Her smile morphed into a grin as soon as she spotted me unsuccessfully trying to blend into the Royal Blue walls.
‘Curse you chameleon powers! Why aren’t you working!?’ I was starting to regret agreeing to this more and more with each passing second.
“Well my dear Aloe, there’s a first time for everything. We’ll be having the usual” Rarity took out her purse and fished out six ten bit coins before handing them to Aloe, who stashed them away before turning to us with professional glow in her countenance.
“You know zhe routine mizz Rarity, but since your guest iz new here. I will need to instruct him in how my sizter and I’s practice operates”
“He’ll behave darling, I can assure you of that” She told the beautician.
“I haf no doubt of zhis mizz Rarity, but protocol iz clear” Aloe’s tone brooked no further argument, nor did her eyes leave mine the entire time.
Rarity sighed, “Very well, I’ll get myself settled into the sauna. Be gentle with Zenith though would you Aloe? You wouldn’t want to scare him off!” She giggled as she disappeared around the bend, leaving me and the beautician locked in an Epic stare down.
She closed the distance between us the instant I blinked. I would have recoiled at her speed had my back not already have been pressed against the wall. It was like she was part SCP or something, making me subconsciously shrink my neck into my shoulders. She didn’t immediately say anything, choosing to take in my dimensions up close. To say I was ill at ease would have been an understatement. But it did give me the chance to return the gesture.
Aloe was a lithe creature, with a toned body that glistened with droplets from either steam or the sweat of her labor. I could see the bands of muscle in her exposed midriff ripple as she leaned from side to side in her scrutiny of my person. It was almost hypnotic to gaze at, I must admit. The refreshing fragrance of Jasmine followed her movements and stimulated my sinuses. She wore a kind of blue bathing suit with a clear sarong skirt covering her pelvic region that somehow only added to her mysterious allure.
Once she was finished with her examination, she bore up into my vision once again, “Zhis iz your very first time to our kind of establishment izn’t it?” She rhetorically asked.
“Eeyup” I borrowed a page from Big Mac on this one, simple one-word answers would have to suffice for the moment.
She nodded, as if the answer was plainly obvious, “It reflects in your overall complexion. Your skin iz rough and overly dry in many places, zhere are hints of abrasions on your biceps, and zhere iz zhis general aura of bodily negligence hovering over you. But zhat aside, you are a fine specimen indeed” She seductively bit her lip, shamelessly flirting with me. I was more focused on the abrasions that she spoke of; my ‘wounds’ from the Timberwolf incident were not unnoticeable to a trained eye it seemed.
“We’ll have to rectify that…won’t we?” I was eager to get this over with.
She held up a hand, “All in due time, first zhere are specific ground rules zhat must be followed. Our Spa iz not exclusive to one gender alone, however, zhat does not mean zhat it iz unisex eizher…” She trailed off, waiting for me to get the picture.
“So you have measures in place to discourage peeping Toms and voyeuristic Bettys right?” I sarcastically speculated.
She tilted her head upon hearing the expression, “Zhat iz one way of putting it, yes. We separate zhem so zhey are not tempted to intrude upon zhe atmosphere of physical privacy zhat my sizter and I work so hard to maintain. As such, during certain parts of your treatment, you will not be sharing zhe same space with mizz Rarity or our other female customers”
“That’s perfectly reasonable. Have there been instances where that privacy has been broken, or has this always been a spoken rule?” I inquired, curious at why first timers had to be explicitly told that they were not allowed to let their eyes wander.
“Under our watch, no such instances haf occurred. Zhough, a distinct lack of male customers has made it quite easy for such a clean record to be kept” She admitted with a half shrug.
I chuckled, “You needn’t worry about me miss Aloe, I respect my fellow being’s modesty”
She inclined her head forward, “Zhat iz good to hear. Moving on, I must ask a few questions beforehand” She returned to the desk and took out a clipboard, motioning for me to come closer.
“Do not take offense, but from which clan do you hail?” She asked, my long hair covering my forehead and unsummoned wings made it difficult for her to assume right away.
“I passed out from magical exhaustion yesterday, so…yeah” I sidestepped the question, unequivocally stating my supposed clan heritage would have undoubtedly come back to bite me.
She made a humming noise as she marked notations down, “Any particular sensitivities we should know about?”
I searched my memory banks for any known ticklish zones and came up with nil, “Nothing immediately comes to mind, why do you ask?”
“Some of our customers haf more sensitive regions, usually around zheir Mana marks, or zhe shoulder blades for Skyborn” She automatically explained, making further notations on the clipboard. That reminded me, I needed something to cover up my lack of a Mana mark, I didn’t want to arouse any pesky suspicion into my background.
“Do you have any extra armbands? I do have this one preference for covering my shoulder regions” I coolly asked the beautician, who raised an eyebrow at the unusual request.
“We do, I’ll be sure to get you some before you enter zhe steam bath” She said as she placed the clipboard on a wall hook. She then had me follow her into the main chamber of the Spa and past the Jacuzzi.
“Much appreciated. You know, I was uneasy about this visit at first. But after seeing how well organized this place is, my fears are gradually subsiding” I mentioned offhand as I tread behind the attractive agrarian woman, fighting off the urge to stare at her shapely ‘assets’.
“Zhat iz good to hear, it will be a much more enjoyable experience if you relax after all” She smiled back at me again, this one free of any ulterior motive.
“So in what sequence does the ‘usual’ take place?” I followed up, passing by lounging customers with towels wrapped around their heads and the stereotypical cucumber slices over their eyes.
Aloe and Lotus were not the only people manning the Spa, with other masseuses and at least one masseur tending to their clients. Many of them were also topless, but I remained true to my word and stared right on ahead.
“Zhe steam bath takes precedence so zhat you may sweat away impurities and cleanse zhe pores of blockages, from zhere are zhe facial masks with dual manicure and pedicure, our renowned back massage, concluded with a seaweed wrap followed with a mud bath to rejuvenate and renew zhe flesh” Aloe listed, though more than half of those treatments did not entice me.
“Is it possible for me to skip the facial masks, nail filing, and mud bath?” I strictly solicited, making my distaste of such things clear.
“But you would only be receiving two fifths of what mizz Rarity paid for!” She objected, not wanting her client’s coin to go to waste.
“Think of it this way miss Aloe, you’ll be receiving the same amount to do less. As a man, I don’t take well to mud masks or baths, and my nails were the proper length last I checked” I gave them a cursory glance just to be sure.
She shook her head, furrowing her neatly trimmed eyebrows as she did so, “Zhat will simply not do. We will haf to substitute in somezhing worthy of mizz Rarity’s patronage”
“I presume that she’s one of your repeat customers?” I wryly surmised.
“Mizz Rarity’s contributions account for almost a quarter of our monthly profits, she iz a very valued regular to my sizter and I” She said in an almost reverent voice. Rarity must have really been keen on spoiling herself with this place to have garnered such respect.
Aloe then leaned towards me and spoke conspiratorially, “If you do not mind, may I ask what your connection to her iz?”
“I’m the guy who got suckered into modeling for her male winter fashion line for the upcoming runway show in Concordia” I deadpanned, not amused in the least by the idea.
She noticed my discontent, “Yet you yourself do not care for such zhings, no? So what made you agree?”
“A couple of reasons. I felt duty bound to assist Rarity make waves in the fashion world and also because I had business of my own to attend to there” I answered forthrightly. I wondered how Octavia would react to the news that I was technically still on the market. I bet that she would be thrilled, though I imagine she would do a good job of hiding it under that charmingly prim exterior of hers.
We finally reached a closed off dressing area that was encompassed by folding screens, although the one’s that the Spa sisters employed were far more gender neutral, being a shade of yellow with swirling orange lines adorning it. Aloe passed me a towel and a couple of armbands to wrap myself with and pointed me to a cubbyhole where I could stash my clothes before leaving me to change in privacy. I debated just how much I needed to strip. Being completely new to beauty parlor etiquette made for much indecision, but I eventually opted to go all the way, figuring that the steam bath would likely result in moisture buildup that would be unfavorable if I kept my undergarments on.
I kicked off my sneakers and slipped on some clogs that were provided courtesy of the Spa before making my way to the doorway into the steam bath right around the corner. I pushed my way inside and was instantly enveloped by the muggy touch of steam. Through the fog, I could make out the figure of Rarity, who was dressed in a frilly bathrobe that felt counterintuitive to the purpose of the sauna. On either side of the door were cauldrons filled with hot rocks, with a bucket of water and a ladle to pour onto said rocks for generating steam.
“I trust that Aloe was not too overbearing with you?” The woman asked with an amused smirk.
“Nope, she was totally professional and to the point” ‘Unlike someone I know’ I thought as I took my place on the bench beside her.
“Now tell me what I should be ready for in our glorious Capital” I was in no mood to beat around the bush, much to Rarity’s consternation.
“There’s no need to be so forward Zenith. We have plenty of time for me to discuss with you all the details you need to know” She spoke distractedly, only just managing to maintain eye contact.
She tried her best to hide it, but she was eagerly eyeing my exposed torso in her peripherals. Breathlessly drinking in every curve of my pectorals and ogling how the beads of moisture formed and rolled down them. I didn’t see what the big deal was, my musculature may have been more defined with my Trifect body, but it wasn’t the hulking mass of brawn that Big Mac unveiled to the world every time he took off his shirt from working the fields too long. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the dude was ripped! Of course, my Trifect physiology hid my true strength quite well. I might look scrawny in comparison, but I could punch well above any Agrarian’s weight class.
I grunted in minor annoyance, “If you say so…” I summoned my sound sphere and was about to shut the world out when she spoke up again.
“It’s remarkable how you can still be so proficient with magic and yet without a focal gem” She observed with awe, glimpsing at the swirling luminescence of the magical construct. I was briefly caught off guard by her comment, but recalled that Rarity had a sharp eye for minor nuances like that.
I withheld my astonishment, “I theorize its because I lack a Mana mark,” I tapped an armband for emphasis, “and they supposedly go hand in hand for Stellar Magi. But then again, I’m so much more than I initially appear” I said with a small grin. In more ways than one too!
She slowly smiled, “That’s one of the many things about you that interest me Zenith. You’re truly one of a kind” From the sincere way she said it, she meant that without any reservations. I suppose I should feel flattered.
“What goes on behind those mysterious crimson eyes of yours, I wonder?” She muttered to herself, ignorant to the fact that I could still hear her loud and clear. I felt the urge to put an end to that line of curiosity straight away.
“Twilight wondered the same thing, and she didn’t like what she found” I said with a dark tone. The shrouding mist of the sauna only made my statement seem more ominous.
She gasped lightly and melodramatically held a curled hand to her lips, “Is that what was wrong with her last night? She hardly spoke a word to either Applejack or myself! Tell me what happened” She all but commanded, I was more than happy to oblige.
“Twilight tried to understand something that would have utterly destroyed her had she succeeded. I managed to deter her unauthorized digging into the fabric of my mind, something that I’ll be discussing at great length with her mentor the next I see her” I explained, slumping into a more comfortable position on the bench.
“Oh Twilight, what have you done?” She said worriedly, “Why is she so vacant though? It was as if she had all the joy drained out of her body” Her voice had a far off tenor to it, concern for her good friend’s state of mind clearly weighing down on her.
I wasn’t worried about her current condition. It would wear off with time, as long as she didn’t try scratching away at the metaphorical red tape I placed around her memories of the event. I had contingency plans for that possibility anyway, namely wiping her mind of the spell she used to trespass in my being in the first place, as well as the addition of placing down restrictions on any attempts to relearn such a spell.
I lazily turned my head to her, “If there’s something you should know about me Rarity, it’s that I have my own burdens to carry. But they are mine to carry and mine alone” I thumped a fist against my chest for emphasis, “This is why I discourage you from looking too deep into my allegedly mysterious eyes: it’s where my demons hide, it’s where my demons hide~” I echoed the words to the song, bemusing her greatly.
We spent the remainder of fifteen minutes in silence, with Rarity doubtlessly trying to make sense of what I had told her. I occasionally used my magic to pour some more water onto the hot rocks, the hissing sounds of sudden evaporation being the only break in the lull. I did away with the sound sphere, in case Rarity wished to confront me about Twilight’s new listlessness. But the harsh words of accusation never came, and her sudden poker face made it challenging to discern what she was thinking.
The door to the sauna opened abruptly and Aloe’s velvety voice piped in, “It iz time to proceed to zhe next phase” She informed us as the humid air escaped the room and a chilling one replaced it.
I got up and followed my ruminating companion outside. Turns out that it wasn’t Aloe speaking to us, but her twin sister Lotus. The fact that they sounded exactly alike was equal parts fascinating and somewhat off settling. Their hair and outfit’s reverse color scheme further compounded this, with only their azure iris color being a constant (though their eye shadow’s were still contrasting). Heck, they shared the same Mana mark image! I could never understand what it was like to have such a physically identical sibling, being an only child myself.
Lotus then divided us, sending Rarity to one side of the main Spa chamber and myself to another end, which was completely devoid of any males, save for myself. I could only speculate that my companion would have to disrobe for her facial mask and back massage, and I wasn’t allowed to peek at the goods. Which was fine by me really. I was half expecting some bulky guy with a strange exotic name to be my masseur, but I was pleasantly proven wrong when Aloe showed up again.
“How are you taking to your first time at zhe Spa so far? Did you find zhe steam bath refreshing?” She asked with a lively demeanor, motioning for me to lay face down on one of the empty massage tables that had those face hugging cushions.
“I’ve actually been in those rooms before, though it wasn’t at a Spa” I enlightened the masseuse as I got comfy, intriguing her.
“Iz zhat so? And what establishment, pray tell, had one? Last I recall, ours iz zhe only building in all of Magiville zhat has one” She asked while searching through a wall cabinet for the right massage oil. Finding one that satisfied her demands, she pulled it out and popped the cap before dabbing the nozzle to one of her palms and rubbing them together. Even from this distance I could catch the pungent scent of Eucalyptus.
“A gymnasium actually, they joined the shower and saunas together in the same complex. So after you worked out, you could then either sweat some more or hit the stalls to wash up” I gregariously conversed, which was atypical of me. This place was somehow picking at my self-imposed taciturn restrictions.
“Fascinating, I’ve never heard of such facilities before” She applied her wonderfully soft hands to my back, quickly working out all the knots and other trigger points that had accumulated over time.
I barely stifled the urge to groan loudly once she reached my shoulder blades. I wouldn’t go so far as to call them erogenous zones, but Valkyrian shoulder blades were sensitive in ways that I couldn’t fully describe. It was kind of analogous to scratching a dog behind the ears. One simple touch and they’ll melt into a tail wagging pile of contentment. I still wasn’t aware if actual arousal caused a subconscious summoning of one’s wings, but I wasn’t eager to test the whole wing boner theory. At least the chances of getting an awkward erection were negated by my facing the floor.
“Has anyone ever told you that your fingers are magic?” I casually remarked to the beautician, letting my body uncoil from its constant state of tensed readiness for a change.
She giggled as she effortlessly dismantled a particularly stubborn knot, “I might have heard somezhing similar once every so often, zhough my sizter far outpaces me in zhe reception of compliments” From the sound of it, she bore no jealousy towards her twin at this.
“Well, if you keep this up my dear Aloe, you might just have a repeat customer on those heavenly hands of yours” I exhaled with gratification, I may very well mark this place on my mental list of prime locations, right alongside the diner.
“I’m pleased to hear zhat mister Zenith” She happily chirped, using a sweeping motion with her thumbs to stroke the grooves of my spine.
“Just Zenith, please” I crooked my head sideways to speak clearly, noticing a peculiar spiral glass jar that caught my attention, “Say Aloe?” She hummed in acknowledgment, “What kind of concoction is in that jar over there? The one with the bright orange stopper?” I specified.
She let out a tiny gasp as soon as she saw it, “Lotus was supposed to put zhat away!” She rasped in slight dismay.
“Well?” I asked, noting how she sounded vaguely…embarrassed?
“W-well, it umm…iz an imported gel made from a special seaweed extract zhat does not grow locally. It iz…for an experimental treatment zhat my sizter has been…entertaining recently” It didn’t even have to turn around to know that her cheeks were flushed with blood.
‘A gel made from a special seaweed extract…where have I heard of that before?’ That’s when it struck me. That was a container of Nuru gel!
“You do body slides here!?” I exclaimed, shocked at this news.
“Iz zhat what zhe name of zhe treatment iz? Oh my…” She trailed off, but still working my backside for all she was worth. How professional.
“Is that treatment officially offered here? Or is it just in the books?” Why was I asking this!? I didn’t want to be smeared in gelatinous substance, regardless of that quip I made to Vinyl.
“Zhat iz somezhing you will haf to ask Lotus. It was her idea in zhe first place, zhough I did not know zhat it was a labeled exercise already. Iz such a treatment what you desire?” She asked, clearly uninformed as to what a body slide entailed, though I had this odd inkling that she wouldn’t mind even if she did. Just thinking about being sandwiched between Aloe and her equally sumptuous twin during such a massage had me hot and heavy.
‘Don’t pop a stiffy, don’t pop a stiffy, don’t pop a…aw damn’ Hopefully she won’t ask me to flip over any time soon, lest she bear witness my rendition of Mount Everest.
“I’ll…have to take a rain check on that” I evaded with extraordinary resistance, although I could kiss my state of tranquil repose goodbye for the rest of my stay. Eh, nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix…a really cold shower.
She leaned closer and spoke sensually in my ear, “Zhat iz such a shame. From what little Lotus has apprised me, such a close contact procedure would be pleasurable for both zhe customer and zhe masseur, no?”
‘So…tempting’ How could she be exploiting my weakness so easily like this?
I settled for a bit of a coin toss, “Tell you what. If by some inexplicable twist of fate I end up a huge celebrity during my trip to the Capital. I’ll not only take you up on that, I’ll pay triple the going rate” With a hefty tip too.
She hummed in thought, “Zhat gel iz quite expensive, and triple zhe rate would quite steep. Pourquoi pas? You are on. But only if both my sizter and myself are allowed to administer your rubdown. Think of it as your substitute for mizz Rarity’s remittance” She punctuated her terms by putting extra pressure on my shoulder blades, eliciting a choked gasp out of me. Man was I sensitive there!
“…Deal..!” I managed to wheeze out, this could be an effective torture technique if applied correctly! I could slap myself for this pruriently driven decision later.
We spoke no more for the rest of my back massage, which lasted another ten minutes. By the time Aloe was finished working her magic, I felt more limber than ever before. Maybe I could use these Spa visits as a form of keeping in shape, as well as enjoy the company of its winsome proprietors. After a quick wash off in the Spa’s showers (set on extra cold temperature as punishment for thinking with the head below my shoulders), I returned to the area where I had stored my clothes and put them back on, discarding my damp towel in a hamper nearby. I was glad that the massage oil that Aloe used was the kind that did not leave a sticky sensation after it dried. Clammy skin was one of my pet peeves.
I figured that I could wait out the rest of Rarity’s pampering at the front entrance. On the way there, I snuck a glance in her direction, discovering that she was lounging on a pool chair with a green mud mask applied to her face and getting her nails filed and polished to a mirror shine by Lotus, a towel was wrapped around her hair for reasons I didn’t know. I couldn’t make out her words over the general din of chatter in the chamber, but she was scowling and appeared indecisive about something (likely what she was to do with me), and wanted the beautician’s opinion on the best course of action. Hopefully she would get the picture and leave me well enough alone, I’m not someone she (or anyone really) should dote on.
‘Rarity kinda reminds me of Yzma with those cucumber slices over her eyes, except less wrinkly…and evil’ I humorously thought as I rifled through the selection of magazines that were haphazardly stacked together from countless patrons tossing them back once they were done reading them, or when it was their time to indulge themselves in Lotus and Aloe’s many services.
Another hour or so slowly ground down as I struggled to find some means of occupying myself without resorting to using my magic. Needless to say, with only fashion mags and other feminized reading material, this was a losing battle from the very start. The pressure of boredom began building until it reached nigh unbearable levels. With a frustrated grunt, I accepted my defeat with humility and put on the Arcane earmuffs of shame to wait out the duration of my sentence.
I had reached the end of an old nostalgic favorite by Rusted Root when a visually improved Rarity materialized from around the bend. I could see now why she relished coming here, her pearly white skin, while nearly flawless before, now glowed with an immaculate sheen. Her hair had regained that luster that you would usually associate with an artist’s impression of a Goddess. All traces of stress lines were erased and I couldn’t detect a single blemish marring her features. Her medium length fingernails were glossed and had been stylishly painted, though not distractingly so. She stood with a more confident and poised posture, much like I did after donning my robes.
Any man back home would have rated her a solid ten (perhaps even an eleven) at this point, but glamorous beauty just didn’t have that spark necessary to capture my attentions for longer than five seconds and keep it. I was more a fan of…natural beauty, such as that exhibited by the woman who was still safeguarding my things. I’d need to stop by and pick those up, now that I had my own residence.
Rarity snapped me out of my musings, quite literally, using her fingers. She then waved a hand in front of my face, “Are you alright Zenith? I’ve been trying to grab your attention for a while now” She stated in a slightly irked voice. I rushed to pardon myself for my careless self distraction.
“Apologies Rarity, when I get into an introspective mood, I get stuck in it quite often” She reluctantly accepted this answer and pivoted to face the Spa twins.
Aloe was busy whispering something into her sister’s ear and motioning towards me. They both giggled in tandem once they realized that I caught them staring. Me, being the charming rogue I am, winked at them with a bawdy grin. Their tiny fit of laughter confused Rarity, whose backside was turned to me when I enacted the gesture. She shrugged it off and said a few more words of thanks before dipping into her purse once again to give her favorite Spa people a tip for their consistent excellence. She then grabbed me by the neck of my shirt and pulled me outside.
“There’s no need to manhandle me Rarity! What’s the rush?” I proclaimed, blindsided by this sudden unladylike behavior of hers.
She seemed to notice her tactless actions and let go of me, nervously clearing her throat and pretending like she was innocent, “Ehem, no rush today darling. I just remembered that I had some…last minute preparations to make before our departure for Concordia, yes that’s it” She hastily excused her strange behavior.
“Speaking of which, when do we leave?” I asked, ignoring the transparent lie.
“Be at the train station at seven o’ clock sharp. The distance to the city will take about an hour and a half to traverse, so we can use that time to learn you the basics of modeling” She explained in her business voice, before switching to a warmer one, “Ta for now Zenith, we have an interesting week to look forward to” Interesting was a word that swung both ways, and the sly way she spoke it only exacerbated my cause to be rueful for agreeing to this undertaking of hers.
With her peace said, she left me to my own devices. It was midday by now, with Celestia’s Sun bearing down almost directly overhead. I scratched my head in an effort to divine what I would do with the rest of my day. Given this morning’s hearty breakfast, I was tided over for the next few hours. There was nothing pressing in town that demanded my time, albeit I was mildly interested in the state of Davenport’s headway into introducing more practical writing utensils to this moderately simplistic society that still relied mostly on beasts of burden for the heavy lifting.
I sighed with indecision and chose to wander at random, leaving it up to fate to decide where I was needed, if I was even needed anywhere at all. I melded into the throngs of people going about their daily lives; occasionally returning their neighborly gestures of fellowship, even if our association was just living in the same general area. It made me absently wonder if small town homes back in America had this level of community. Perhaps that was the case, though I could not truly understand what drove these people to connect with each other so deeply.
My aimless meandering eventually saw me on the outskirts of town that I had stormed yesterday in foul spirits. In a classic reversal of fortune, I found a dejected looking Lyra staring forlornly off into the wilderness. Muttering to myself about the fickleness of fate, I soundlessly sat beside her and joined her in her thousand yard stare. We were both silent for a time until I cut into the downcast atmosphere that the woman was emitting.
“You seem troubled” I parroted her earlier words to me. If fate decreed that I was to step into her shoes for a moment, I was going to do it theatrically.
She regarded me in the peripherals of her vision, a spark of annoyance mixed with faint amusement flashed in them, “Nothing that won’t pass with the inevitable flow of time, I’m sure” She echoed in almost as dry a tone. She might have been playing along, but her effort to seem lighthearted felt only halfhearted.
“How are things?” I went straight for the heart of the matter, beating around the bush be damned.
She sighed tiredly, “Crappy, everyone still doesn’t remember me. Although a fair few of them made mention of me being familiar, I’m still forgotten. Even Bonnie looked at me like I was a stranger, and she was my Celestia damned housemate!” She cursed, throwing her hands up in surrender before burying her face into her palms to begin softly weeping.
‘Why do I have to be the one to provide an emotional cushion?’ I don’t think that there’s a person in this entire world less qualified for it than I am. Well…maybe Discord would be worse, or secretly he would be the greatest emotional councilor ever, it’s hard to tell with him.
Despite my unfitness for this task, I laid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. She accepted the physical contact and used my shirt as her personal handkerchief. I’m sure the snot and tears would wash out after a good scrubbing. Her choked sobs and snivels grew less and less frequent at she cried out the last of her grief. I chose that as the time to offer my two cents (or bits as it were).
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that Lyra, but from the look of things, you will not stay forgotten. Whether the townsfolk’s memories slowly return or if you have to re-earn their familiarity, there’s no longer anything that will force you to stay forgotten” I caressed her arm comfortingly, “Give it time, the name Lyra Heartstrings will have universally recognized meaning connected to it once more”
She let out a strained chuckle and nuzzled against my side, “It’s a good thing that I still have my White Knight to remind me that not all is lost huh?”
“Ain’t I a regular saint?” I sarcastically remarked, prompting less strained sounding laughter from the emotional woman.
“A snippy Knight that is. Mayhaps, a Snark Knight?” She looked up at me with a tear-stained face and grinned.
I grinned back, “I like it! A Snark Knight forever at your service, my esteemed lady Lyra” I utilized my impeccable British accent to make me sound nobler than I actually was.
She chewed her lip, as if mentally debating something, “You know…” She began tentatively, “You said something about not asking to return to somebody’s home on the first outing, but what about the second outing?”
I raised an eyebrow at her implied meaning, “Are you saying that you want to see my place?”
She delicately nodded, “If you wouldn’t mind, that is” She said with an adorably shy smile.
I frowned and shook my head, “That would be unwise. I have a cloud home, and the floors are particular to Skyborn alone. Even though the house itself is solid, I wouldn’t want to leave you stranded there” I reasoned.
She crooked her head, “Stranded? What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve gotta be at the train station early tomorrow morning, since I’m accompanying Rarity to a fashion gig in the Capital. I’d rather not leave you stuck up there with no way down, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me” I explained, watching her eyes light up in recognition of something.
“My parents! They live in the city, they’ll remember me! I’m their daughter for Celestia’s sake!” She exclaimed loudly, whatever act she was trying to pull by inviting herself to my place now forgotten.
She got uncomfortably close to my face, “Mind if I tag along? I promise not to bother you or Rarity too much” She pleaded, her lower lip quivering in a fashion that would have made it difficult to refuse had I not already been cool with it.
“Of course you can! You don’t need my permission to come with. You’re on your own for train tickets though” I playfully joked, though the energetic nodding of her head indicated that she was too excited to get it.
“That’s all tomorrow however, so let’s find something to occupy ourselves with until that time comes eh?” I said to the lyrist, “Perhaps I can crash at your place instead and we can make some sweet sounding music?” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively; two could play the innuendo game.
“And just what instrument will you be using for that?” She incredulously asked as she shifted back to get a better look at me.
‘The one I carry everywhere’ I rakishly quipped in my thoughts.
“I have an acoustic guitar stored at a friend’s place, I can go retrieve that and meet you back at your place. Sound good?” I might be flirty at times, but I almost never directly mean what I say.
She held a hand to her chin, “I doubt our two instruments are compatible for duets, but I guess we can show each other what the other is capable of doing solo wise” She shrugged indifferently, “It’s been far too long since I’ve had a audience who stayed cognizant for the whole performance, I’m looking forward to this!”
And so Lyra and I split up temporarily, with myself returning to Fluttershy’s to reclaim my belongings as well as explain why I couldn’t be found at my home yesterday to the worried woman. The animal caretaker smiled when I told her that my absence was due to helping someone out of a near impossible situation. She told me that she understood and was gladdened by my eagerness to lend aid to those in need, which was a sentiment that she herself shared readily. I got this warm and fuzzy feeling in my chest upon hearing that she was regretful that she wasn’t able to spend more time with me before. I made sure to say to her that the feeling was mutual, and that her demure smile never failed to cheer me up.
With my things now back in my hands, I returned to that cozy cabin in the woods, where Lyra and I spent the rest of the day regaling each other with tales of our lives. It was fascinating to see how she could alter the sounds of the strummed chords by muting certain strings with the fingers she used to hold the instrument. She was just as hypnotized by my use of a single index finger as a makeshift capo for power chords. I taught her the three major and two minor chords necessary to play the iconic ‘Yellow Submarine’ by the Beatles, and in turn she showed me a simple single noted folk tune she would play whenever she found someone lachrymose that needed uplifting. I figured that’s what she would have done for me had I not indulged her for a chat.
We improvised chords together, we laughed together, and we got to know each other the old fashion way, none of that one-sided memory montage nonsense. Our revelry lasted well into the night, and before long the importunate pull of sleep began tugging at my companion’s eyelids. She gaped a large yawn and invited me to bed in the same breath, too tired to realize the impropriety of what she had proposed. She collapsed on her tiny bed and was out like a light before I could muster a response. Shrugging indifferently to myself, I set my things at the foot of the bed and sat down, leaning against the bottom portion of the mattress before getting some shuteye myself.
⁂
The morning air had a wintery chill to it as I stood on the platform waiting for the seven thirty train to arrive. Its cool touch made me wonder how the seasons actually changed here, for the Valkyrians I had seen zooming about the skies did not adjust their usual modus operandi as they went about their weather jobs. Lyra was impatiently tapping her foot against the floor of the platform as she stood in line to purchase her ticket, swiveling her head every so often to glare daggers at me for not having the courtesy to at least save her a spot or buy tickets for the two of us.
‘Well, I did say she was on her own for tickets’ I apathetically smiled back to her, making her snort in disbelief. It’s not my fault that she woke up late and took her sweet time in the shower.
Speaking of which, where the heck was Rarity? The finicky woman tells me to be here at seven sharp and yet has the audacity to be absent herself, the nerve of some people! I scoffed indignantly, the suddenness of the action drawing a few confused glances from those standing by me (which I ignored). It was likely that she was bringing enough baggage with her to fill up the compartments of an entire car. From what I’ve seen, there were no carry on limits for the train station like the kind you’d find at an airport.
Lyra stomped her way over to me and I mentally prepared myself for an imminent ‘chew out’ session.
“I can’t believe you made me wait all the way in line! You were only two people away from the clerk when I got here, you could have allowed me to stand by you! But you just had to insist that I wait a full turn” Her face was flushed with anger, and the tiniest bit of betrayed hurt.
“What did you expect me to do? Let you cut in line in full view of everybody?” I calmly riposted, casting her a sidelong glimpse.
She stared unbelievingly at me, “Uh…yeah! That would have been a perfectly acceptable thing to do”
I wasn’t convinced, “And how would I excuse that? Say that we’re a couple going on a trip to the Capital?”
Her facial coloration switched to a darker beet red tinge, “Erm! I-…no, maybe?” She vacillated before groaning in exasperation, “Yes, we’re a couple…” I crooked a brow, “…of friends”
I didn’t even wince at the sudden F bomb this time. I must be getting good at this.
“Then as your…friend, permit me to ask for your forgiveness for standing by my words to you yesterday” Her shift from an eager face at the beginning to an unamused half lidded one by the end was priceless.
She vocalized a ‘hmph!’ that sounded far less refined than the person we were currently waiting for was capable of and turned away. I’m on a roll, cold shoulder treatment two days in a row!
Within fifteen minutes I spotted Rarity approaching on the horizon, and sure enough, there was a small mountain’s worth of luggage being hauled to the rear of her on a flat-bedded wagon with a thin sidewall to keep its freight from falling over. I focused my vision on the tuft of spiky green hair trailing in the rear. I followed that tousled hair down until I could make out the familiar face of a certain library assistant. I rolled my eyes in restrained vexation, it seems that Rarity had ‘enlisted’ Spike (brazenly taking advantage of his affections) to provide the muscle needed to move her things for her.
I shook my head in pity, ‘That poor boy’ Doesn’t he even realize that he’s only going to get crushed by his crush? Love truly is blind sometimes, and not always for the better.
She waved to me as soon I was in visual range. Her form was dressed in a white and silver fur coat that reminded me of a seventies disco uniform for some reason. I idly pondered what animal that coat was made out of, but dismissed the idea. She was a good friend to Fluttershy; having such an outfit in her inventory would horrify the gentler woman. Unless Rarity employed the use of white lies more than I realized, then she must have only worked with fake fur.
“Good morning Zenith! Are you as giddy as I am for our upcoming time to shine?” She chirped once she was within a few strides distance, striking a pose as if she were in the limelight already.
“Mornin’. And no, I find that level of anticipation difficult to match” I drawled with a mirthless chuckle, still not enthused by the prospect of being this woman’s glorified mannequin.
“Geez Rarity, you pack enough for a family of five” I drily observed, eyeing the wobbling cases at the top of the cart behind her warily.
“Only the barest essentials darling, many of those valises contain the outfits that you’ll be displaying for the fashion world. I originally wanted to bring more of my own wares, but sometimes sacrifices must be made in the name of fashion” She spoke as if her decision to minimize cargo was noble.
I brought my attention to Spike, who had a thin line of sweat on his brow from the sheer effort he put into pulling the wagon up the platform ramp. The things that boy does for his unrequited romantic love.
I greeted him as well, “Hey Spike, need a hand?” I altruistically proffered, seeing the slow progress of his toiling.
He tried to dismissively wave a hand at me before his grip on the handle began slipping and he was forced to catch it again, “No thanks…I’m mostly sure I…GOT THIS!” He heaved as he put his back into it, fighting a futile uphill battle against gravity.
I smirked in amusement before surrounding the mound of bags with my magic and levitating it into a more organized pile placed by myself. Despite the sizable number of bags and their contents, the action felt as trivial as breathing. Due to my penchant for boiling down incredibly complicated feats of magic into the proper metaphors and mental commands, (which is a huge part of being a successful mage) magic was all but second nature to me by this point. Still…did Rarity really have to bring so many bags? There were a little over a dozen of them! Why couldn’t more people be like me and pack their paraphernalia into something more portable? Like the space-enchanted adventurer’s pack that I brought with me?
With his load completely lightened, Spike crested the apex of the ramp in a jiffy. He exhaled in relief and began flexing his muscles in front of the target of his affections, “See? I told you I could handle…it?”
He stared incredulously at the empty cart before him before aligning his gaze with the short stack next to me, his mind connecting the dots. He let out a puff of steam and pouted, “I could have done it without you dude” His draconic eyes glared at me for making him seem helpless in front of his idol.
“I apologize for interfering Spike, but some of those bags contain some very delicate cargo, and the longer they stayed haphazardly smushed together like that, the greater the chances of something being warped or mangled beyond recognition” It was a transparent excuse really, but the young lad seemed to believe it without much fuss.
“I guess you’re right. I wouldn’t want any of Rarity’s things getting damaged. She deserves only the best” He glanced fondly at the squiggle haired beauty. This time I was sure there were heart shaped glints hovering over his pupils.
“Oh Spike, such gallantry won’t go unrewarded” She reached into a fold in her coat and produced a fire ruby the size of a chestnut, which Spike immediately began salivating at the sight of.
“A fire ruby!? But aren’t those super rare? I couldn’t possibly take such a treat from you” That hungry look in his eye told me that he didn’t even believe his own words.
“You can thank Zenith here for renewing my supply of rare gems” She smoothly tossed the rock to Spike, who caught it between his teeth much like Winona would catch a stick when playing fetch. He began chewing on it like it was a jawbreaker, moaning in delight at its taste.
‘I’m not hearing any gratitude from the mobile mailbox’ I pettily griped, unappreciated as usual.
Lyra was just standing awkwardly to the side, indecisive about whether or not to include herself in the conversation. Knowing that she’d take forever to make up her mind, I chose for her.
“We have a third wheel in our party Rarity, if it’s not too much of an issue” My tone making it clear that this wasn’t up for debate.
“Oh? And just who is that, if I may inquire?” She began looking around, oblivious to the girl standing just behind me.
“Lyra here,” I sidestepped to reveal the woman stricken by self-consciousness, “Is visiting her parents in the Capital, and she’ll be sitting with us for the whole trip” She shrank back as all attention was directed on her.
Rarity automatically began analyzing her, taking in her shabby hoodie and torn jeans and flinching for a fraction of a second before beaming a friendly (if not perturbed) smile her way.
“I can’t recall making your acquaintance before, but it’s a pleasure to see you again miss Lyra” She formally uttered with an inclination of her head.
“W-what?” She stuttered, caught off guard by her strange words.
Rarity held a palm against her gemmed forehead and grimaced as if she was suffering from the sudden onset of a migraine, “I’m sorry…did I say that it was nice to see you again? Something about you is so familiar…”
“Of course!” She cried out with a snap of her fingers, having reached an epiphany, “You’re the girl who came to me to do stitching repairs on that atrocious hooded sweatshirt, despite my pleas to make you something more presentable”
“You remember me?” This shocked Lyra, so much that she didn’t pick up on the insult to her garb.
“I never forget a patch job darling, especially not one done on such…threadbare garments” She murmured with distaste.
Lyra was finally aware of the criticism and incensed this time, “These threadbare garments hold a great deal of sentimental value to me. I’d choose these over frilly dresses any day of the week” She crossed her arms together and fumed, and Rarity realized her faux pas.
“I meant no offense Lyra! My uncouth opinions as a seamstress sometimes pass through my lips before my manners can filter them”
“You’re forgiven, I still need someone to keep these in one piece after all” She grinned, ecstatic that someone besides me mostly remembered her, even if it was the result of an association to her clothing.
“As a means to make my apology more sincere, I’ll do it free of charge!” She followed up, ever the Element of Generosity, with Lyra fruitlessly trying to deny her charitable offer.
While they negotiated the terms of their reconciliation, I spoke to Spike, who was drooling slightly as he admired the more glamorous of the two.
“How’s Twilight holding up?” I interrupted his daydreaming.
“Huh!” His head snapped to me before he processed my question, “Oh. She’s recovered from the mishap, but she’s been acting kinda off kilter lately” He scowled, a worried expression on his face.
“Describe off kilter”
“She’s…restless about something. She remembers inviting you over for some sort of testing, miscasting her spell and unleashing a discharge of energy as a result. Which took me three hours to clean up by the way” He frowned at the addition to his chores. I certainly didn’t envy his duties one bit, “But she keeps making these mystifying remarks about existential topics; ‘intimately knowing what a life deprived of significant meaning was like’ she said. I’ve seen her piling on more philosophically heavy reading at night too”
Hearing this made my lips purse together in a thin line. This was an undesirable development to learn about. My worldview had imprinted upon Twilight deep enough to start bleeding into her own. Something of that magnitude would ultimately destroy her inside, rendering her a hollow shell of the person I had only just come to know. There’s no telling what this might do to her ability to channel the Element of Magic, or how it will affect her daily interactions with the close people in her life.
‘Let’s hope I haven’t corrupted an Element via exposure’ I don’t want to be the one responsible for disabling one of Arcania’s most potent means of defense.
“I see. But other than the sudden enigmatic statements and avid interest in existential subjects, she’s still the same Twilight you grew up around right?”
“I’d say she still is. Why? Was the spell that backfired meant to alter one’s personality?” He jested, ignorant to how close to the truth he just might have been.
I shook my head, “You cannot force a person to change their personality, with magic or otherwise, for that is an exercise of free will. One chooses to change how they see and feel about their existence, much like one chooses whether or not to be happy to see the rainfall, even if it means being stuck indoors” Personally the rain makes me feel at peace. It causes the air to smell fresh too.
“Wow, you sound like you’ve given this a lot of thought” He tried to wrap his mind around such profound insight.
‘If only you knew’
“Yes…I have” I tentatively admitted, deeper thinking came naturally to me.
The far off sound of a train whistle echoed in the distance, alerting us that it would soon be time to depart. I decided to utilize Spike for what he was best for.
“When next you see her, please tell Twilight I’m sorry for the way things turned out” And I meant that, no one should be subjected to seeing the world through jaded eyes.
Make no mistake, I’m still miffed at her for letting her burning curiosity get the better of her, but my anger had cooled somewhat upon hearing of her new condition. What’s done is done, and it is pointless to hold such banal grudges against someone who only had the best of intentions. Even if the road to hell is paved with them.
He stared at me strangely before eventually agreeing with a nod and casually waving the three of us a two-fingered valedictory salute. Lyra and Rarity had finished their haggling, with Lyra agreeing to let Rarity craft her a dress to compliment her petite form, if and only if Rarity in turn agreed to let Lyra pay her for future repairs to her treasured hoodie. The steam powered locomotive pulled into the station with a gentle stop before some of its passengers began the process of disembarking, carrying with them their belongings or even nothing at all. I was initially confused when Rarity stood by us and not in line to purchase her own ticket, but she revealed that she had already bought her boarding pass well ahead of time.
“Would you kindly assist me in bringing my things aboard darling?” She asked as her lips curled into a sickly sweet smile that she used whenever she tried to get someone to do her bidding.
“Only because you used the magic words, milady” I replied, causing her to blink twice.
“But I haven’t studied in the school of incantations” The figure of speech soaring clear over her head.
“It’s an expression Rarity, I didn’t mean literal magic” I said as I effortlessly floated the numerous bags into the passenger car in an orderly line, my feat being looked upon with awe by nearby Stellar Magi.
The inside of these passenger cars looked different than those of the train that I inadvertently derailed. The seats faced both forwards and backwards and were upholstered in a dull red; almost maroon colored velvet covering. The chairs were wide enough to fit three people of average width, or two of those who had been eating well. There was a decorative rug running along the center of the walkway that depicted grassy swirls of green, with a starry sky lining the roof above. The compartment itself was lit with multiple crystal lamps hanging above and to the side of the windows that convincingly emulated the light of the sun. There was also this mysterious new car scent lingering in the air that utterly baffled me.
Mentally shrugging at the not altogether unpleasant ambient smell, I began stuffing the overhead bins that weren’t being used with Rarity’s luggage. The harsh glares I received from the passengers who now had to move to another car in order to stow their things were downright bitter. But that’s what they get for not regulating such things. It allowed people like Rarity to take advantage of the system and hog up everything.
With that task taken care of, I chose an open spot next to the left side of the cabin and plopped my keister down on the cushions. I set down my rucksack on the ground in front of me, having run out of space thanks to Rarity’s gratuitous packing. My two companions, who were affably chatting about something I couldn’t care enough to listen to, joined me. Lyra sat across from me while Rarity unsurprisingly sidled up next to me.
‘It’s good to be on a train that isn’t about to violently fly off the rails for a change’ God willing, I can sit back and actually enjoy the ride this time around.
The conductor, a stocky looking agrarian man with a bushy walrus mustache who was going car to car and punching tickets, stepped past the threshold and into our cabin, prompting the three of us to reach into a pocket or other crevice and whip out our proof of passage. He said a few words of gratitude while tipping his cap at my female companions before he punctured our cards, cupping them so the chads created didn’t accumulate on the floor. After another five minutes of collecting had passed, he stood on the steps of the end car and bellowed out the ‘all aboard!’ call. Now that I thought about it, he sounded a lot like Tom Hanks did in Polar Express.
Not long after that, the train began slowly pulling out of the station, the muted chugging sound of the engine located a few cars ahead of us became a rhythmic clock like ticking as we left Magiville behind and steamed through the valley and towards the hills. The majority of the other passengers in the car pulled down their window curtains and settled back for a catnap to pass the time. The rolling scenery just outside mine however, entranced me with its idyllic beauty. Causing me to glue my face firmly against the pane as I was treated to the passing sights and ever-changing angle of the landscape that Magiville was nestled in the bosom of.
“Be careful Zenith, any closer and you might crack that window in two” Rarity giggled in amusement as she saw how hypnotized I was with something that she saw almost on a daily basis. My wordless hum of acknowledgment only furthered her gaiety.
She attempted to draw me into the conversation, “So how did you and Lyra meet if you don’t mind my asking?”
The aforementioned woman beat me to the punch, “We haven’t known each other that long actually, but we found a common ground and everything else just…fell into place” She said with a warmhearted smile.
“What she said” I quickly voiced my opinion before resuming my monitoring.
Rarity was having none of that, however, “I might as well let you in on the basics of what you’ll need to know for the runway show, so pay more attention to me and less to the window, darling” She commanded, tugging at the collar of my polo shirt.
“But mom!” I whined as I relented, drawing a chortle out of Lyra and a disapproving look from the seamstress.
“I am not your mother dear, though if you insist on acting in such a childish way, I may have to treat you like one” She evenly replied, tempting me to say something just to be contrary, but I thought better of it and shut up, much to her satisfaction.
She unfolded a document that she took out while I wasn’t looking and laid it upon a fold out table that was used for dining. It seemed to describe in detail the time that the event took place, the location where it would be hosted, and which notable celebrities would be in attendance. I recognized the names of Hoity Toity and Photo Finish, which made me ponder if they looked as stuck up in this world as they were in the Equine one. Knowing the snobs that called Concordia home, it was a likely possibility.
“As tradition dictates, the female models will go first. Women’s fashion lasts about three quarters of an hour, after that the men will grace the catwalk”
“That’s very interesting and all, but why are you sharing this with us?” Lyra asked, glancing disinterestedly at the paper.
Rarity gave me a ‘You didn’t tell her?’ gaze and spoke, “Zenith here volunteered to model for my winter line for men, something I’ve never been able to publicly reveal before”
I half expected Lyra to burst out in laughter for my agreeing to something that pandered mostly to feminine tastes, but all she expressed was a subdued ‘huh’ and remained silent. Perhaps it wasn’t that big of a deal here.
Rarity began her lecture, “Now, fashion affairs like this aren’t purely about the extravagance of the clothing alone darling. It is also how you project yourself in that clothing. People aren’t going to be as interested in an outfit if they see the model wearing it walking in a nervous or unconfident manner. I’m not saying that you will be high stung up on that stage Zenith, but I do want you to bear this in mind”
I utilized Occam’s razor and succinctly simplified the subject, “So basically, pretend I’m a peacock and strut my stuff right?”
“That isn’t the expression I would use, but more or less, yes” She conceded with a bob of her head.
“There is also the matter of the proper form you use while presenting my works. This is not an exact science per se, but modeling can be narrowed down into three very important concepts: posturing, how passionately you place your strides, and attitude. I’d like to think I know you well enough that I won’t even bother trying to change the latter, but you must cut back on that slouching and put some more life into your stroll” As she said this, her Sapphire focal gem lit up and she forcefully corrected my habitual hunch with her magic, which felt like a field of statically charged hands grabbed me and readjusted my spine.
‘You could have just asked’ I quietly griped to myself and cracked my vertebrae, making the two women flinch at the noise.
“You know, where I come from, people like their male models to have that blasé ‘I really don’t want to be here’ attitude as they take the stage” I countered, remembering what I could of those fashion oriented television shows my mother was so fond of watching.
“That may be well and good over there, but the audiences in Concordia are a picky bunch. It’s always considered risky to divert from the well-established norm, but as long as you’re two for three, it shouldn’t be a deal breaker” She looked moderately pleased that I made an effort to keep from returning to my lazy comportment.
“Is that all?” She answered in the affirmative, “Out of idle curiosity, would that coat you’re wearing happen to be made of real fur?”
She appeared dumbstruck by the random question, but soon rebounded, “Heavens no! Could you imagine how Fluttershy would react if she saw me incorporating the pelts of animals into my designs?” I could actually; I imagine that the word used to describe her potential expression would be appalled, followed by tearful. I tactfully kept this to myself though.
“So it’s made out of…fake fur?” I asked, marveling at how close to the real deal her coat felt as it brushed my neck from Rarity’s proximity.
She shook her head, “There is no such thing darling, and this is real fur. But that which was painstakingly put together by donations from many of the animals that Fluttershy looks after. I value her friendship so much that I’ve sworn never to work with any kind of material that was made by furriers” That explained why the fur didn’t feel uniform in its smoothness. It must have been dyed too, for I couldn’t recall many of the creatures living near Fluttershy’s cottage as having medium length white fur. Which also led my mind on a tangent as to what Angel would look like completely shorn, a humorous image to be certain.
We spoke little afterwards, with Rarity having finally filled me in on what was expected of me, there was minimal need for us to converse more. Though she and Lyra wouldn’t stop yammering about the most inane things for the rest of the hour and a half ride there. Much as I enjoy the company of women folk, sometimes they talk too damn much for my tastes.
The suspension on this train was superb, I could hardly detect the bumps whenever the carriage wheels made contact with the joints connecting the rails together, though the distinct ‘ka kunk!’ sounds could still be heard. I busied myself for the remainder of the trip by listening to music with my special sound sphere headphones whilst surveying the outside view as we climbed the steep gradient of the mountains.
Every so often an attendant came though pushing one of those complimentary snack carts much like those stewardesses on an airline would. The train itself wasn’t traveling very fast, only about fifteen to twenty miles per hours going uphill, so gaining access between cars would not be the windy affair that it was back when Daring and I were confronting Ahuizotl’s goons against the backdrop of the frozen north. Thinking about her made me somewhat doleful, I hadn’t received anything from her about her expedition or how she was doing. I realized that she couldn’t guarantee any messages, but even a cheesy postcard would have been better than no word at all!
Since Celestia herself gave her instructions, I’d have to ask her for details surrounding her current condition, though the Sun monarch seemed hesitant in divulging anything that concerned matters of the state. Heck, she could very well use that as a means of leverage to get me to fully accept joining her and her sister in ruling over Arcania. Maybe I was still a little leery of Celestia’s hidden agenda, but after more than a thousand years of solid leadership tucked under her belt, I’m reasonably sure that it’s become an acquired proclivity to her.
My musings were cut into yet again by the slight jolt of the train coming to a gradual stop, informing us that we had reached our destination.
Concordia’s train station wasn’t as prestigious looking as the rest of the pristine city, but it held a professional and composed demeanor of its own. Everything was orderly, with valets and chaperones awaiting their charges on the wooden platform with horse drawn carriages parked on the curb just like an old world analogue to LAX. I recognized one of the men waiting in the crowd by his magnificent trousers and lofty height, beside him was a similarly tall and slender woman with light pink hair accentuated by faint white highlights.
“Fancypants?” I mouthed inaudibly, what could he be waiting here for?
Dismissing it as mere coincidence, I bided my time until the other passengers in our car had withdrawn their belongings and were otherwise out of the way. Digging into my magic, I popped open the lids to the baggage bins containing both mine and Rarity’s event clothing and levitated it into a formation seven by two in dimensions. For the heck of it, I pretended it was a column of soldiers and had them ‘march’ out of the train, each row oscillating up and down like the cylinders of an engine block. This action understandably flummoxed my two companions, but that was only because they didn’t share my unique sense of humor.
With my newly created caravan in tow, I tread down the steps separating metal grating and station platform and found an empty spot free from the hustle and bustle of people happily greeting friends or relatives that were waiting for them and stacked the luggage into something resembling a squat Jenga tower. It was kind of hypocritical to pile them together after my excuse to Spike, but objectively speaking, this arrangement spread out the weight more evenly and was less likely to result in squashed dresses and whatever Rarity had made for me to wear.
“Well, for whom are we waiting for? You mentioned that somebody would be hosting us didn’t you?” I asked Rarity, who was standing on the tips of her feet trying to peek over the roving crowd.
“As a matter of fact I did darling, and you just might be surprised who’s kind offer it was that I accepted” She spotted whoever she was looking for and excitedly waved them over to us.
“I sincerely doubt that” I murmured so she couldn’t hear.
Imagine my complete lack of surprise when I saw a smiling Fancypants and his supermodel trophy wife-girlfriend sauntering through the waning crowds on a collision course with our little group.
‘So much for coincidence’
“I should probably get going. My parent’s are usually preparing to head out around this hour” Lyra spoke up beside me, glancing around the station with a nostalgic expression that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“I suppose I’ll see you back in Magiville then?” There was no telling how long I would be staying here. Rarity failed to specify the duration that the event would last.
She answered me with a sudden hug, “Yes, you will. And…thanks for making this possible” She nuzzled against my person for a second occasion, which made me suspect that she was more of a more tactile persuasion than most.
I brought a hand to her fragrant hair and stroked it with my thumb, “I’m your Snark Knight, it’s what I do. Say hi to your parents for me would you?”
She laughed harmoniously, “Will do, have fun modeling!” She said in passing as she pulled away and began walking in the direction of the easternmost part of the city.
Which left me with a pleasantly surprised looking Fancypants standing not three feet away for me. Unlike the last time I saw him, he was now the one who had to adjust his neck to look me in the eye. As a footnote, he was also missing the signature monocle. His inamorata: Fleur de lis, stood to the side, dispensing various pleasantries with Rarity in a nasally accent that was almost unmistakably French, definitely European. While Rarity’s mid Atlantic pronunciation seemed stilted at times, Fleur’s came naturally.
He stroked his chin in mild astonishment, “I say, when Rarity took me up on my offer to provide lodgings in exchange for crafting my dear Fleur’s wardrobe for the upcoming Winter Wear Walkway event, I hadn’t expected to see you accompanying her” So Fleur is also taking part in this event? I must’ve skipped her name on the list that Rarity showed to me on the train.
The classy man thrust his hand out to me for a shake, which I obliged, “No matter! A pleasure to make your acquaintance once again Zenith! You’ve certainly grown since the previous occasion we met” He noted arbitrarily.
‘Huh, he actually remembered me’ I should return the courtesy.
“So I have. Good to see you as well, Nigel” He smirked; equally pleased that I remembered to forgo the stuffy formalities he likely received all the time.
“So what brings you back to our fair city Zenith? Last I saw of you, Daring was adamantly denying her feelings for you” He inquired, legitimately interested in how it turned out.
“Let’s just say that I took your advice” I replied with a phantom of a smile.
He clapped me on the shoulder and grinned, “Good on you my friend! She deserves a trustworthy anchor in her life, something to really motivate her out there in the field” He went on, shaking his forearm as though he were giving a rousing speech.
“You wouldn’t happen to correspond with her while she’s out there in the wild lands beyond our borders would you?” I asked, almost desperate in my yearning for information on her wellbeing.
His grin faltered somewhat, “I’m afraid not old chap. My influence is vast, but sadly, mostly confined to sovereign Arcanian soil”
“Don’t sweat it. Knowing her, she’s doubtlessly no worse for the wear” I expressed confidently, remembering how well she handled herself in dangerous situations.
“You pulled your weight with decent finesse yourself if I recall my reading correctly” He remarked in a chummy tone.
“That’s just Daring extoling me, I didn’t really do many productive things on that adventure” I shrugged off the praise, dark memories of my impulsive actions during the finale threatening to bubble up to the surface.
“Don’t be so modest! The woman may very well have met her end if it weren’t for your split second dive after her to prevent her plummet using your wings” He retorted as he idly twisted at one end of his Clark Gable mustache.
‘You clearly have no idea who was partially responsible for her being in such a precarious position to begin with’ Why Daring left that particular detail out of her latest novel, I’ll never know.
“I can’t afford to be immodest Nigel, the last thing I need is to have fame potentially going to my head” I said as I rolled my eyes, refusing to become anything like the conceited elite.
“Oh, pish posh! One should accept their credit when and where it is do. But we can discuss the finer points of merit someplace a little more sequestered” His aquamarine focal gem illumed as he took hold of a little more than half a dozen of Rarity’s bags, inadvertently reminding me that I had a Valkyrian image to maintain while in his company.
With a brief glance to his beloved that she immediately understood the meaning of, Fleur began shepherding Rarity in the direction of where the multitude of carriages were coming and going as they ferried their passengers to hotels or local residences. That left me with six bags to haul with me, which would be easy enough given their relatively lightweight nature and my inherent Agrarian strength. I looped three straps around each arm and carried them newspaper boy style as I moseyed closely behind the man with the dazzling light grey slacks.
I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the quality of horse drawn carriages, but Fancypant’s ride was practically a Rolls-Royce limousine in comparison to the crude wooden boxes on wheels fore and aft of it. It was pulled by a team of four snow-white stallions and was at least double the length of any coach I had yet seen so far. The coach itself was decked out in decorative wooden carvings that looked like they were done by hand, the metal plating on the door panels was gold sheathed and also regally designed, and the complex chassis looked state of the art. I couldn’t help but feel a little impressed, this was how the well to do travel in style in Arcania.
The stagecoach driver, a man dressed in plainer clothes that contrasted heavily against the vehicle he operated, hopped down from his perch on the seat and tipped his curved brim leather bush hat at us in brisk salute before taking the bags that Nigel handed to him and carefully setting them on the top rack.
“I take it these two will be riding home with us?” His gravelly accent wasn’t Concordian, which was of vague interest.
“Very astute observation Turnpike, the elegant lady conversing with my dearest Fleur is miss Rarity, and the charming gentleman behind me is Zenith” He introduced us, and Turnpike responded with a grunt and a curt nod to me, easing my burden and stuffing it securely into the rear boot of the carriage. I swung my rucksack off my shoulders and gave it to the man, wincing as he grabbed it a little too roughly for my liking.
“Do you always keep such interesting people in your employ, Nigel?” I asked of Concordia’s most recognizable celebrity while the man in question was in the middle of doing his job.
He seemed to misinterpret my question as aversion, “Turnpike may not seem as refined as you or I, but his skills are first rate! There’s no other man I’d trust with both the financial allocations for my toll road operations and my life” He defended the honor of his retainer.
“He’s your bodyguard? But who would ever want to do you harm?” I also partially wondered just how Fancypants accumulated his wealth from his statement, but asking about that seemed impolite.
Fancypants actually chuckled jovially at the question, “You don’t get to where I am in life without making a few enemies Zenith, no matter how scrupulous or upstanding your business practices are”
“Yeah but, would anybody really make an attempt on your life?” The idea of being so close to someone who probably had powerful rivals didn’t sit well with me.
He rubbed his nails against his suit lapels and inspected them, “I should certainly hope not! I’m much more useful to the world alive than dead, wouldn’t you think?” He didn’t sound too worried, which was a confidence bolster on my part.
“I think we can both agree on that” I said as Turnpike finished putting away our things and opened the doors for us, with the ladies entering first as tradition dictated before we joined them.
The interior of the coach was just as luxurious as the exterior, with buttoned leather seating and the scent of exotic incense permeating the air of the cabin. It was large enough to comfortably seat over half a dozen people, so with only the four of us, there was legroom aplenty for someone of Fancypant’s stature and my own. We took our seats and Turnpike shut the door behind us before climbing back up to his roost and grabbing the reins. I heard him whistle sharply and give them a flick, with the carriage lightly jolting forwards as we made our way to casa Fancypants.
With the women segregating themselves from us on one end of the cabin and giggling over something that would likely be a mystery to the masculine mind, I turned to Fancypants to resume our conversation.
“If you’ll pardon my asking, what is it that you do for a living?” I dropped the courteous pretenses and went straight for the good stuff.
His brow creased as he thought about his response, “In addition to owning a few toll roads that the mercantile companies are so fond of using, I’m an investor of sorts. Whenever I see an idea or invention that I believe that the whole of Arcania should know about, I subsidize the inventor or group representing that idea and help make it commercially viable. In return, I receive a cut of the revenues generated by my stake in such ventures” He explained, sounding like a professional businessman as he did so.
‘Ah, so he’s the equivalent of J.P Morgan financing the proliferation of Edison’s light bulb’ Hopefully without bearing the ignominious title of robber baron.
He leaned back in his seat as he remembered the investments that he made, “Sometimes they fail to take off, in which case I shrug, dismiss it as bad luck, and then move on. Most of the time however, they turn out to huge successes. I make extra money to invest in more undertakings, and our country diversifies and improves its standards of living, everyone wins” His lips curled upwards, crinkling his mustache as he did so.
“I’m especially optimistic about the latest phenomenon to hit the market, the self contained ink quill, or fountain pen as they’re starting to call it” That made me feel a small touch of pride, it was about time these hooligans modernized and stopped using feathers to write with.
“We should thank our lucky stars for the bloke who came up with that brilliant brainchild” I commented with a wry snicker.
“Indeed! What about yourself, if I may inquire?” He returned the personal interest.
That was a good question. What exactly was I doing here and to what ends? What was my purpose in the grand scheme of things?
I settled for a partial truth, “I’m something of an agent for Royalty. I go where the Princesses command me and do their bidding. Not the worst bosses to work for, if I do say so myself” I jested in good humor.
‘Heh, there’s a lot of work all right’ I was taking it easy compared to everyone else. But that isn’t to say that I was being unproductive, busy as I am constantly refining my capabilities as a Trifect in preparation for some unknown threat.
“Ah, so you serve our esteemed Princesses” He inclined his head in a respectful motion, otherwise remaining silent as he considered this new information.
I could only listen for three more minutes to the trite aspects of how Rarity gleaned her inspiration for creating Fleur’s dresses before I spoke just for the sake of shutting them out.
“I’m sorry, is there some kind of bad omen connected to agents of the Crown? Because you’re acting far too quiet” I quipped, noting how his demeanor ever so subtly shifted into something that looked like recollection.
He waved at the air, “No no, nothing like that. It’s just that…I’m trying to rack my memory for a reference of an agent matching your description, and not that I’m implying that you aren’t true to your word, but I’m coming up short”
Oh, so he’s taking my understated claim to agent hood seriously, “I’m one of a kind Nigel, probably the only agent serving their Royal Highnesses that can get away with calling them by their first name without breaching pre-established protocol” Amongst other things.
He elevated an eyebrow at this, “Truly? I cannot fathom the idea of addressing the Royal Diarchs so…casually” Apparently Fancypants was another of those types who were wholly deferential to their leadership.
“For all of their might, both are still very much people like you or I. Only they have a great deal more life experience to draw upon”
“Immortality” He exhaled a breath of fascination, “I like to think that my forty years upon the Earth have been quite the ride, but that pales in comparison to over a millennium of exposure that was doubtlessly fraught with change and strife. But those two have managed, and Arcania wouldn’t be the powerhouse it is without their guiding hands. It has become almost ingrained in the average citizen that their Princesses are as pivotal and everlasting as the astral bodies suspended in the firmament” I voiced a ‘hear, hear!’ in concurrence, not out of reverence for the Diarchy per se, but because Nigel was a strong speaker.
‘Fancypants is forty? He’s aged quite gracefully’ He looked closer to late twenties or early thirties. Of course, magic and affluence may have stemmed the ravages of time.
The carriage made several wide turns down winding roads that spanned throughout the whole of the city’s infrastructure. There were actually traffic cops that directed the flow of vehicles at busy intersections, which I found odd. Their ship docks had red and green light boxes, so why not their thoroughfare? Well, on the other hand, it did keep someone busy and their wallets stuffed with bits. Too much automation in a society and good people suddenly find themselves without jobs. From the descending view outside the window, Fancypant’s place was located somewhere on the lower levels of the city to the North, presumably in a more isolated location if I knew anything about the buying habits of the exceedingly prosperous.
It took another ten minutes before we pulled up to the golden gates separating the demesne that Nigel owned and the manors of his likewise loaded neighbors. Two servants that wouldn’t have been out of place on Georgian era palace grounds rushed into position and pulled them back to grant us passage, once they recognized the flashy coach carrying their employer. The best way I could describe his home was a fusion of an Italian Villa’s open air atmosphere and the attractively old fashioned quaintness of a French Château. There was a long strip of fountain in the front yard that had crossing streams and sculptures of mythical beasts and heroes frozen in various poses that reflected bravery and fortitude in the face of long odds, or at least, that’s the vibe I got from them.
A welcoming committee composed of servants, maids, and other staff hands lined up in an almost military like precision as our coach came to a stop. The closest two opened the doors for Nigel and myself and we both exited the transport with the smoothest ride I’ve ever experienced on a glorified wagon. Fancy stepped just to the side and took Fleur’s hand as she stepped off, prompting me to do the same with Rarity; who had a rapturous smile on her face as she beheld the sheer Opulence that surrounded her. Our bags were being thoroughly taken care of by the Estate’s personnel, though Turnpike made himself scarce the moment we arrived, bleeding into the background. Likely off doing whatever it was that dual financial officer slash bodyguards did. He didn’t really expend much effort in profiling Rarity or myself, but it was probably due to him trusting his liege’s choices in which company to keep, which is a noble sentiment, but ultimately bad for prudent protectors.
I walked behind the couple with Rarity’s arm hooked around mine, choosing to ask her a question while our hosts were occupied with escorting us throughout the mammoth of a mansion, presumably to our quarters.
“When does this fashion show take place?”
She pried her eyes away from the Victorian interior architecture and turned to me, “It happens this very night my dear, starting at around seven”
“Wow! That notification is a little on short notice don’t ya think?” I criticized her neglecting to mention this beforehand.
“Oh relax Zenith! We have the rest of the morning and the afternoon to ourselves for you to practice. Fleur told me all about the stage she has in her walk in armoire, which she rehearses on right before she has a photo shoot” She informed me with a hint of envy in her voice, much to my slight shock. Her walk in closet is large enough to house a stage!? Nigel must be really good to his women.
“We are here!” Fleur announced this time, the highbrow timbre of her voice cutting into my thoughts, though not unpleasantly. Without further ado, we ushered ourselves into the room to inspect where we would be staying.
And what a room it was, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling illuminated everything that the sunlight outside couldn’t reach, the four-poster queen sized bed possessed drapes made out of a purple velvet cloth that smelled daintily of lavender, and master bath that had all of the essentials and then some. On top of it, the room was connected to one just like it via a set of doors, so it eliminated the awkward prospect of having to share living space with the overly dramatic fashionista.
“Well..? What do you think?” The statuesque woman inquired with a presumptuous grin and a hand placed on her hip. Now that I pay more attention to it, Fleur’s got curves like the hull of a racing yacht, sans the unsightly wool jersey.
“It is…sufficient” I replied in monotone, wiping the smug look clean off her face. Fancypants caught on to what I was doing and chuckled softly at my antics.
Rarity jumped in, “Don’t mind Zenith here darling, he seems to favor the usage of understatements even when the truth in front of him justly deserves more embellishment. This is without a doubt the grandest living quarters we have ever laid eyes on. Isn’t that right Zenith?” She directed to me, her jaw set in such a way that promised pain if I didn’t play along.
I shrugged, “Sure. It is…très agréable” My word usage restoring Fleur’s jolly mood, even though I completely slaughtered the pronunciation. Eh, I took four years of high school Spanish, not French.
By that point the servants were spilling in with our bags in tow, setting them down next to the cabinet and giving us a respectful bow or curtsy before they left to fulfill their other obligations. Which left both Rarity and myself to get settled in, or perhaps even switch to more loose fitting clothing seeing as we weren’t leaving the premises until before the show.
Fleur clapped her hands together, “Well! We will leave you two to get adjusted, lunch is in half an hour and we will expect you at the table” She then focused specifically on me, “Afterwards, we will resign ourselves to my personal catwalk. Rarity has told me that you made need coaching lessons on what a good model does when they take to the stage. This is acceptable oui?” I agreed with little hesitation, curious as to what a walk in runway looked like.
“Excellent! See you at the dining table!” She happily chirped, pulling Nigel with her and leaving the two of us in peace.
“What was that?” Rarity instantly got on my case as soon as the doors shut.
“What was what?” I innocently replied.
“That lack of enthusiasm you seem so insistent in maintaining! It’s comes off as rude to our hosts you know. Did you not agree to remain professional and sincere to those who have so generously offered their home to us?”
“I was only speaking the truth milady, these guest rooms are…adequate, are they not?”
She groaned and massaged her temples, “If you continue to behave like this in front of everyone we meet during our stay, you are going to be the death of me” She muttered sourly.
“I’ll be sure to get you some nice flowers for your funeral” I flippantly remarked, finding a nice chair and falling into its cushions.
“How do you expect anyone to respect you if you go about your life with such a disrespectful attitude?” She asked out of the blue, voice free of any ulterior nuances.
I answered after a moments thought, “I don’t expect anyone to respect me, it’s not something that ever mattered to me. Not if it means sacrificing being myself”
She stared at me strangely, “Is this really you though? This unhappy, snide creature that relishes taking beautiful things…and belittling them? Not caring whose feelings he might trample on while doing so?” Where the heck did this come from?
She didn’t stop there, “And then there’s the worrying comments you make about your own discontent, and you can't even bring yourself to care then! Why!? Why are you so…so…” She couldn’t find the right word, unfamiliar as she was with someone like me. She’s acted like she had hit rock bottom no doubt, but did she understand how it really felt, or more accurately…didn’t feel?
“Apathetic?” I filled in for her, worsening her irritation.
“Yes! What happened to you that could make you so…cold?” She sank to her knees in front of me. Peering into my eyes with her misty ones.
I looked away and out the window, feeling distinctly bothered by her sudden interest in my own turbulent soul, “Many reasons, but the primary one is disappointment with the way my life played out. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great upbringing, I was taken care of, clothed, fed, and even loved” I explained, with Rarity listening in rapt attention.
My expression darkened as I spoke, “And for a time, it was good, and everything was right with my world. But time passed, and all of those things gradually became less meaningful to me. My responsibilities grew while my sense of fulfillment declined, spiraling into an abyss that it has yet to fully return from. I stopped living, and only existed, taking tedious courses in college to eventually work a job that didn’t even appeal to me, but promised a healthy check for my toils. It got so bad that even when I experienced things that brought some small amount of joy, I was already desensitized to it” Her eyes were wide at this point, filled with apprehension as she struggled to imagine what my life must have been like.
She seemed aghast at the mere thought, “What a horrid feeling to endure…to never find satisfaction with your life. But why did you become so bitter?”
“The way I act is hardly acrimonious” I retorted, glancing briefly at her. I could all but physically sense the waves of insipid pity flowing from her person, “In a way…I envy such things as Mana marks. This preordained destiny that’s conveniently stamped on your body in case you forget, one that tells you what you’re good for, what you were meant to do” But I still don’t want one, nor will I ever.
Rarity still couldn’t wrap her head around this, “Again, where do you originate from where you’re deemed to blindly stumble into doing what makes you happy? If even that!” She was evidently averse to that way of life.
I wagged a finger at her, “Nope, I told you I would explain my origins when all the girls were there to hear it, and not a moment sooner” She scowled in displeasure, but made no protests.
“I would despise the world if I was denied a purpose, yet you still treat your fellow being with dignity. I know that the occasions where you are an upright man of honor are not acts, what motivates you to strive to be a good person in spite of your…indifference?”
“It’s simple really. I realized that my existence is not all about me, and that I share it with people who are going through trials of their own. I might not be terribly happy, but that doesn’t mean that everyone else should share in my misery. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness? I still believe in concepts like these, I just don’t believe in their profundity anymore” I smiled sadly at her, otherwise remaining stoic.
She embraced me in my chair, holding me close to her bosom and speaking in soft, almost motherly tones, “I had no idea you felt this way. Perhaps I’ve been a little…unrealistic in my expectations of you being this infallible Prince that can do no wrong, but at the same time, you are no less significant Zenith. And I feel it necessary to remind you that you do not have to shoulder this burden alone, and that I and other girls will always be here for you, even if it isn’t physically” She pulled back and smiled at me, unaffected by how my expression remained unchanged by her heartfelt words.
“I appreciate the sincerity of your gesture my lady Rarity, and I promise I’ll try to cut back on my denigratory stance towards…just about everything” It wasn’t meant to be funny, but Rarity giggled anyway as she wiped her eyes and face clean of moisture, which was staining the make up she had put on.
She excused herself to the bathroom to clean up and reapply her cosmetics. While she did this, I injected my eardrums with some upbeat music using my sound sphere headphones. This was a regular habit of mine back home: where I would tune out the world by drowning it in Muse, and it would continue to be so here. When she emerged again, she didn’t bother me for the rest of the time we had until it was time for lunch with our hosts, choosing to instead to unfasten the bags that she packed with various dresses and coats. She used a nifty spell to automatically erase the wrinkles that had built up during transit and corrected other deformities that she detected with her attentive eye for detail. I caught her looking at me whenever she thought I wouldn’t notice, a pensive expression adorning her countenance. I paid it little mind, letting the rapturous voice of Matthew Bellamy take me on an unparalleled journey through time and space.
⁂
Lunch at Fancypants was…an informative affair, to say the least. I got to meet another one of his lovers, an ample agrarian woman named Blissful Bounty, whose father owned large tracts of farmland and was responsible for at least one sixth of Arcania’s agricultural output. The cynical part of me instantly assumed that they were together for that very connection, but Nigel seemed to be legitimately in love with her, just as he was with Fleur. That didn’t stop the kisses they shared between the three of them being any less startling to me, seeing a man’s Harem showing affection (quick as it was) to each other was…new.
‘Fancypants has his hands dipped in a lot of honey pots’ I examined the way his hands were planted on the hips of his lovers, ‘In more ways than one’ I dryly observed.
I was still in the dark surrounding the dynamics of such a system, but from what I could glean from watching their interactions, Fleur and Bounty seemed to be on good terms with each other, with their affection to each other being of a more sisterly persuasion. Their romantic love however, was focused purely on Nigel, evidenced by the starry gleam in their eyes as they looked at him. I wondered if that's how he saw Daring looking at me, it was still hard to picture the rough and tumble woman acting like a schoolgirl. But Daring was still a woman, a woman’s whose endearment I had somehow garnered by standing by her in the thick of the action, watching her back even after she had strictly stated that she wouldn’t do the same for me.
And then there was Octavia, whose fondness I had not counted on obtaining. We hadn’t gone through such an arduous ordeal ourselves, but we shared an interest in the classical arts, and she seemed genuinely grateful to me for letting her listen to the greatest composers from lands that existed well beyond her own. There was also the way that I looked upon her with fairness and not lechery, something that she admired greatly about me. The cellist was the one who revealed to me that such romantic formations were common here, and who very much wanted to become a part of mine. I’m willing to bet that many guys would be drooling over the idea of having so many women to themselves without the need for secrecy, but have they ever really fully comprehended its ramifications?
With each woman that falls in love with you (and who you likewise fall in love with), that’s one more spouse that you have to keep happy, possibly support financially, and one more mother of your children that you are obligated to spend time with while avoiding giving off the appearance of favoritism to the others. Not to mention all the problems that could arise if one woman dislikes another in the Harem. Then there are…bedroom matters, which I will not be delving into. Yet, despite all the obstacles, I could see this system working out. So long as it was maintained by love above all things, and not used as an excuse to satisfy one’s lust.
As soon as we set our forks down and gave our dirtied plates to the servants for sanitizing, Fleur made me follow her to her own sizable partition of the house. She led me to her walk in closet and past her rows upon rows of shoes that she could easily fill up an entire Nordstrom retailer with and still have some pairs to spare. I won’t even bother describing what the inside of her walk in closet was like, but I leaned towards the words enormous and overflowing. Her personal walkway was a medium sized strip of smooth black stone that was meant to accentuate the model and their outfit. It stood a few feet off the ground and was lit up by crystal-powered sidelights.
Fleur wasted no time in having me walk up and down the stage multiple times, taking in natural stride and way I projected myself to the world.
“Hmm…it is not the worse I have ever seen, though you could stand to slow down a bit. It might be called a runway, but that does not mean that it meant to be jogged upon”
“That wasn’t jogging, that’s my natural walking pace” It became clear that Fleur didn’t have Botox injections, because her forehead threatened to vacate her face with how fast her brow snapped upwards at the briskness of my casual speed.
She eventually recovered, mumbling something to herself in her native tongue, “I see, well, please refrain from doing that during tonight’s event. People want to be able to see the outfits that Rarity worked so hard to create. It is hard to appreciate something when you are given less than ten seconds to take in its every detail” I snorted derisively at what I perceived as a hyperbole, but agreed none the less.
We spent hours going over the same routine, until it was all but drilled into me at that point. Fleur sat to the back using a lorgnette with magnifying lenses in hand to replicate the effect of a spectator in the back of the gathering. After the first few attempts, Fleur gave up on trying to get me to smile for the audience. She usually had me stop mid pose sometimes in order to correct a flaw in my posturing before resuming practice. She would occasionally compliment me when I did something that she saw as risqué, but not lewd enough to be frowned upon on the stage (this meant that I was allowed to swagger to my heart’s content). Repetition bred familiarity, and it wasn’t too long before I received Fleur’s figurative stamp of approval. In her words I was ready to ‘bask in the task’, which was apparently a colloquial saying amongst models.
The event itself initiated to much fanfare, with Hollywood-esque carpet entrances by other celebrities or renowned people in the fashion world. Fancypants was mindful enough to forgo making a big entrance and snuck both his lover and myself through one of the back entrances after greasing some palms for extra anonymity. I got to meet the other male models who I would be working with (a charming bunch, but not how I pictured most male models to be personality wise) and they give me a few tips that women like Fleur would not be privy to. There were ten of us total, each of us an exemplary representation of something that women loved in the male physique, be it the bulky strength of the agrarians, the roguish windswept looks of the athletic Skyborn, or the suave aura that the Stellar Magi radiated.
‘Funny. There are three from each clan, and I technically represent all of them’ Could it be coincidence? Or was this world just screwing with me like I knew it was?
Rarity’s clothes for me arrived on a rack that was number coded so the other models would know that it wasn’t theirs. Of which, I counted a total of half a dozen outfits overall, many of which were similar to my own robes but without the hoods and more layers added, a couple were even standalone buttoned coats that came with colorful scarves that gave them some life. All of them came with dress shoes that I didn’t particularly care for, but I manned up and slipped into them anyway. At least they weren’t crocs.
I found out that there was a DJ with spiky hair and wearing ridiculous shades (think his name was Neon, or something) who would pipe in music during each presentation, but the tracks he would be playing (using some kind of recording crystal that was receptive to music oriented magic like my sound sphere) during the guys half of the show were lackluster to say the least. So I managed to convince him to drop the track listings he had using a special trick that Nigel taught me not long before, otherwise known as monetary bribery, and give me a blank recording crystal to imprint the songs I had in mind for him to play instead.
After the forty-five minutes had passed, the crowds outside clapped in muted approval and held still for what trends awaited them on the masculine side of the spectrum. All of us were dressed in outfits that were either conservative, flamboyant, or something combining both (I fell into the third category I believe). The guys decided that since I was showing the most initiative out of all of them in making their stint more interesting, I would be the one to lead them onto the stage (Not literally. In Arcania, each model goes by themselves and stands at the end for about a minute before returning backstage to swap outfits). I shrugged to myself and basically said ‘why not?’.
Cueing Neon with a nod, he grinned in return and slapped the recording crystal into a groove on his mix table, the sounds of Calvin Harris’ ‘Colours’ filling the air via multiple speakers in the auditorium as I strut my way down the lane, remembering Fleur’s advice to take it slow. Judging by the audience’s reaction, they were not expecting such buoyant music. A few of the old guard among them muttered disapprovingly amongst themselves, but the majority was actually bobbing their heads to the beat (even though Rarity was glaring up a storm at me, somehow knowing that I had something to do with this). I aptly wore the coat that came with the colorful scarves, because I’m cliché like that.
After a minute of standing there with a face that almost screamed ‘Good God, this is lame’, I did a little shuffle in place that spun me around so I could return to the dressing area behind the runway. The whole crowd was murmuring to each other, though not in a negative way. I caught the words ‘radical’ and ‘nonpareil’ being passed around, though I did not know whether they were talking about my performance or Rarity’s designs.
Either way, it looked like my idea had proven popular enough as the first round was completed without a hitch and Neon’s speakers transitioned to the next song on the list (which was another by Harris called Disco Heat). This time I add a little more spice to my method by turning my shuffle into a little jig that showcased the flexibility of Rarity’s apparel, which offered insulation from the cold and maneuverability. How she pulled it off with such voluminous clothing was a mystery.
I was tempted to finish the whole thing with ‘The Girls’ but felt beforehand that the song would be a little too overambitious of me, opting instead to make it another old favorite from the nineties by Stardust called ‘Music Sounds Better With You’ It sounded a good deal different than what the previous tracks offered, but the crowd didn’t seem to notice, busy as they were jamming to the beat. Even the guys seemed to develop a bounce in their step as they walked in tune with the rhythm. I never thought I would have fun doing something as snobbish as dominating the runway, but brazenly shattering the norm and introducing something new and fresh held a certain facetious appeal to it that summed me up pretty well.
I didn’t bother joining the other guys when they went back out for the traditional encore walk, which was kinda like how stage actors all present themselves at the end and bow to the audience as they are cheered and wolf whistled to. This of course didn’t stop Rarity from storming backstage with pure murder in her eyes as I lazily lounged on the couch.
“Zenith what you did out there was a complete contradiction to what makes modeling a respectable career! You’ve probably ruined me via the association alone!” She bit at her nails nervously, “I can never show my face here again, I’ll have to move somewhere in the middle of scenic nowhere where they shun gossip, change my name…” She trailed off, quietly laughing to herself in a hysterical manner.
Her face abruptly went pale as she saw a woman wearing purple designer shades fast approaching. She rushed to make some sort of excuse by saying that she didn’t know me and that the model they assigned to wear her clothes was new to the business (which was true), but she was ignored as the shady woman (heh) blew past her. The woman in question instead made a beeline straight for me, stopping and stooping right inside my personal space bubble.
"You! That stolid bearing. The insouciant progressive attitude. The sheer masculine poise you exhibited on that stage. I must photograph you!” She told, rather than asked me, before another voice of a similar accent cut in.
“Hands off Schweinhund! He will be the centerpiece of my next photo shoot!”
Photo Finish pulled away from me to glare balefully at the approaching woman, though the goggles kind of neutralized the intended effect, evidenced by the smirk that remained on her competitor’s face. This new person who I had never seen before was familiar none the less. Picture Perfect was the only being in the whole city (save for Discord) who could be identified by their eye coloration alone, which was strangely heterochromatic. One eye was an intense orange while the other was a shimmery silver. From what stories I’ve heard from Rarity regarding the big fish in the metaphorical pond that is the Capital City, Picture Perfect and Photo Finish’s fierce rivalry was the stuff of Legend, and I was starting to see why.
They got within inches of each other’s face and began arguing in their native tongue, which was almost entirely in German. Many curses and insults were hurled at the other, the shouting match bordering on violence. I managed to catch the word ‘Backpfeifengesicht’ and chuckled in silent amusement before playing the role of mediator.
“Ladies, ladies! I’m flattered that you thought so highly of my performance, but there’s no need to fight over me. Especially when I haven’t even agreed to anything to begin with!” I arbitrated from the comfort of my seat, to lazy to bother standing back up.
“Vhat!?” Picture Perfect shrieked, before clearing her throat and inhibiting her birth accent, “But I must have you! I can’t stand the thought of this blöde kuh getting her filthy hands on you first!”
“Speak for yourself dumme Schlampe!” Photo Finish angrily retorted as she shoved Picture Perfect away.
Rarity saw this as an opportunity to make herself look good by interceding, “Ladies, if I may make a suggestion? Why not share a Photo Shoot with Zenith? That way both of you will have the latest material to publicize in your next magazine editions”
‘And he’ll be wearing my designs for it’ She neglected to express aloud. I gave her a flat look that told her I knew as much, with her response being a ‘Shut it! You owe me this much’ return glower. I sighed in resignation and wordlessly consented, much to her pleasure.
It took a few more open insults and Rarity a few more attempts playing negotiator, but she did managed to succeed in getting them to cooperate to a mutual agreement (though she couldn’t get them to formally shake hands on it). Their rivalry was so petty that they argued some more over the time and place that the photo shoot was to be held. So Rarity had to get them to reconcile all over again by claiming the Fancypant’s residence as neutral territory (which was a ballsy move on her part, though I doubt Nigel would prove too resistant to her request). Rarity rewarded me later that night by wearing a tantalizing negligee as she said good night to me.
And so the majority of Wednesday’s morning was spent getting dolled up by the entourage of both fashion photographers and standing in place wearing my ‘game face’ as they called it. I cannot begin to tell you how weird it was to hear their paroxysms as they encountered what they perceived as a particularly enticing pose (which was me subtly moving an arm to scratch an itch on my hind quarters) and snapping photo after photo with those gigantic flash cameras that made me glad that I wasn’t prone to seizures. While they were getting their photos developed in a portable vat of solution, they regaled me with tales of their home region located in the windy mountains. Both belonged to a faction of the agrarians known as ‘Sturmfolk’, which was a term coined for numerous reasons that they glazed over the details of. When all was said and done, they packed their gear, shook my hand, and zealously resumed their argument as they left for the door.
Fleur had mixed feelings about the sudden attention that I had received, while both camerawomen hardly said two words to her, despite the supermodel being the premiere ‘cat’ of the walk. On one hand she was happy for my unorthodox methods proving successful, but on the other hand she was intensely jealous. This showed up in our future interactions, with Fleur muttering darkly in French and avoiding me at all times. Sensing that she needed some time to herself, I spent the rest of the day in search of that confectionary that the Sun Princess herself sent me to. And when Celestia herself personally endorses it, then you know they have good stuff. Something that bothered me though was how many people recognized me from the fashion event and swamped me, some asking for autographs, some wondering what gave me the right to act different, and more than a few bachelorettes who wanted get touchy feely for all the wrong reasons.
After beating off the crowds with a stick (actually an ornate walking cane that I swiped from Nigel’s umbrella vase) I was finally inside Sweet Tooth’s confectionary store for the second time. The same girl in the boater hat from before instantly recognized me, though it wasn’t for the same reasons as the mob outside. Turn’s out that Cream Filling (for that was her name), possessed an eidetic memory, and much like the similarly energetic Pinkie Pie, remembered everyone who entered the shop. She was more than happy to provide me with the cheesecake that I was searching for (once again asking which girl I was trying to get in the good graces of), and even helpfully pointed out that Sweet Tooth’s did deliveries. I managed to silence the motor mouth for all of five seconds by telling her to drop it off at Fancypant’s place. She must have been good at reading people’s faces, because she knew that I wasn’t lying. I gave her a hefty tip that she adamantly tried to refuse, finally caving in once I told her that she deserved to be rewarded for her diligence in putting the customer first.
With my mini quest objective scratched off the list, I spent the rest of the day randomly wandering about the city and dodging those pesky fan girls until the Sun began setting and it was time to head back. I spread my wings once I knew that no one was watching and cast an active camo spell over myself, pretending I was a stealth fighter and flying home to Nigel's completely undetectable to the human eye. Fleur’s anger had cooled only minimally in the time I had been gone and she refused to acknowledge me. Knowing the futility of trying to convince a woman with her mind made up, I secluded myself to my room and surfed the web using the laptop that I had stashed in my rucksack. I think Rarity came by to pick out another feathery hat to wear as she accompanied Fancypants to some stuffy art gallery, but I couldn’t be bothered to give a damn, occupied as I was with some ‘research’.
Thursday was the day I officially decided to pay Octavia a visit. My memory wasn’t the greatest, but I did remember that her apartment was directly under one of the Princess’ towers. After a couple awkward moments of door-to-door speed dating, I finally reached the right one. Octavia was shocked to see me, even more so when I responded to her nervous greeting with a passionate embrace and a peck on the cheek. The cellist was absolutely delighted to hear that Daring was willing to share and expressed this by glomping me (I kid you not, the prim and proper Octavia glomped me. Such was her fervor) and peppering my face with kisses.
I caught the woman at a good time, she was just about to leave for one of her orchestra rehearsals and that she wanted me to accompany her to see both herself and her colleagues in action, which she promised was ‘sublime, you’ve never heard anything like it’. The building where the Royal Symphony Orchestra practiced was a stylishly made creation. Those walls that you would find in an anechoic chamber lined all sides of the auditorium so that there would be no reverberation or echoing effect as the orchestra fine-tuned their instruments. She introduced me to her closest friends, none of which were in the string section, which I found interesting. I was also gladdened to know that almost none of the members partook in the fashion scene, so nobody recognized me right off the bat.
I took a seat closest to the stage and watched eagerly as sound of tuning instruments gave way to silence before the conductor started with a sudden series of crescendos that gave me the impression of crackling thunder and lightning. Throughout the whole of the practice session, Octavia’s face was that of purest focus. Focus that remained rock solid as all other instruments silenced themselves and made way for a solo that relied all on her quick finger work to keep the intense feeling of the composition alive while lending it a unique and singular voice.
Have you ever seen a beautiful woman play the cello with the spotlight raining down on her? It is…something else. Eventually her moment in the spotlight was over as other musicians got their turn for an instrumental solo, but my eyes stayed glued on Octavia who was likewise looking in my direction and judging my reaction. I gave her a thumbs up to let her know that she was the bomb and she smiled back to me. Once the large-scale recital was concluded, I gave them a standing ovation (clapping quite loudly in spite of being the only audience present) before quickly excusing myself for the restroom.
I wasn’t expecting to be cornered by a woman on the way out that would seem attractive at first glance, but one look into her eyes and you instinctively knew that she was ‘mad cray cray’. She pompously introduced herself as Marvelous Melody and began shamelessly flirting with me, even when I politely turned her down she did not let up. When I confronted her about it, she explained that my ‘girlfriend’ was doing a wonderful job of mucking up her limelight, gaining more and more attention as she steadily improved her skills with the cello and promising to undermine her own carefully bought supremacy, so she wanted to knock her down a few pegs by ‘stealing away her inspiration’.
I responded by snidely telling her that I wasn’t interested in sticking my key into a rusty lock and she flew into a rage, threatening multiple injuries against my person and that of Octavia, as well as to our livelihoods with the influence that her parent’s commanded. I was tempted to reduce her to a red smear on the wall but wisely reined in my fury, knowing that she had already certified her own downfall. I pulled out a spare recording crystal that Neon gave me and revealed to her that I had been recording our entire conversation using a jury rigged version of the sound sphere to record sound and inscribe it into the rock. I also heavily implied that I was working with the Crown, and that no one threatened an agent of the Princesses with impunity.
The skank panicked and actually tried to snatch it out of my hands, but playing keep away was made easy with my superior height and immovable bulk. The once proud Melody relented and asked me what I wanted in exchange for staying quiet, I told her that I could overlook her careless words if she stepped down from her first chair position and promised to never to disturb Octavia again. She whined at what she saw as unreasonable terms but was persuaded when I told her that I had a direct line with the Moon Princess herself (when I was asleep, but she didn’t need to know that) and could land her ass in hot water faster than she could blink.
Knowing she was defeated, by her own big mouth no less; Melody slithered back into the shadows, promising retribution as she did so. I shrugged to myself and put the crystal away, in case I ever needed to blackmail her again. With Melody’s chair empty during the second phase of the rehearsal, Octavia was automatically selected to fill in until further notice. Knowing that Melody had no choice but to resign, this until further notice was not a temporary arrangement, and Octavia could tell that I knew something based on the smugly satisfied grin on my face. She asked me about it after another round of brilliantly rehearsed compositions were over with, she seemed appalled that Melody was so far gone but was glad to be rid of her, taking me by the hand and shepherding me to the very same jazz restaurant where we first met to have lunch. We got a nice table close to the band and located so that it was overlooking the valley below.
Smooth Jazz himself got up on the stage and began rocking the trumpet while singing to the familiar tune of ‘La vie en rose’, which was just that impeccable timing that this universe seemed so fond of acting up again. Our drinks arrived and I made the most out of that moment.
“A toast!” I proposed, “To your ascendancy and the inauguration of a brand new and beautiful relationship, long may they both last”
“I can most certainly second that motion” She replied with a lovely smile.
Our glasses clinked together and we downed the spicy sweet tasting port wine. This was a moment worthy of committing to memory. Not only were we officially together now, but Octavia finally achieved her goal and even no longer had to put up with her nemesis anymore. All it took was a woman with more teeth than brain cells and some strong-arming on my part. But hey, if it’s stupid and it works, then it’s not stupid.
We had a few more glasses until the musician’s cheeks were tinged with pink and her gait was wobbly. Her speech stayed coherent though and she invited me back to her place, only she didn’t explicitly say under which context she meant it. I accepted and carried the woozy woman home. Thankfully she fell asleep in my arms on the way there, I had no idea what excuse I would have to use to escape scot free if she stayed awake and expected me to ‘perform for her’ as she had said it with an incorrigible grin. I tucked her into her own bed, reflecting on how she informed me that she purposely left her door open as a test of my character over the duration of our lunch, which I had passed with flying colors. I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and wished her sweet dreams, sitting by her side and running my fingers through her hair. Before I got moving again, I left her a note explaining that my presence here was sadly temporary and that I promised to return to her again to make good on ‘performing for her’ when the timing was auspicious.
I revisited the manor some hours later to find some kind of Great Gatsby sized party being held on the grounds. Streamers flew through the air, party goers whooped and hollered as they had a good time, and people drank like it was going out of style. Like Nick Carraway, I was reasonably confused as to what the hubbub was about as I squeezed my way through the crowd in search of Rarity. Knowing that it would take forever to find her the hard way with this many people in attendance, I engaged a spell that I called True Sight: which automatically filters out any visible objects that do not match the criteria I set them against and highlights the one’s with the highest probability of being the person or thing that I’m looking for. With the spell’s assistance, I narrowed down her possible location to that of two people, one of who was currently in the lavatory puking her brains out. Knowing that Rarity would never indulge in enough alcohol to begin praying to the porcelain God, I began walking towards the one sitting at the table with someone else.
I found Rarity engaged in idle chitchat with someone who carried herself as though she knew that she was very important. I took a seat by them and Rarity introduced me to a famous pop singer named Sapphire Shores, who examined me in a way that felt…tantric for lack of a better word. Sapphire Shores was another one of those larger than average women who had the voice of a soul singer, despite looking very much Caucasian. She explained her connection to Rarity as her go to designer for exuberant stage wear that would get ‘heads a’turning and lips a’flappin’ as she eloquently put it. I had two very simple words in response to such a claim that I decided against mentioning for good reasons: meat dress. She loved to talk about herself, ranting on about her liberated spirituality and lucky animal being the dolphin, praising them for many overinflated reasons. I hadn’t the heart to tell her that dolphins were actually terrible creatures.
I came up with a good excuse that pardoned both Rarity and myself, (one that Photo Finish would know very well) and dragged her away before she could voice her complaints. After she had gotten over how we rudely ditched Sapphire, she invited me over to a secret bar that Fleur had showed her on the third floor and insisted on me trying a drink that she would mix herself. With nothing better to do, I went along with it. I cradled the shot glass in my hand and gave it a once over after the seamstress/bartender hopeful slid it over to me.
‘Huh, is it me…or do those fizzy bubbles look like miniature Valentine hearts?’ No matter, the pinkish fluid went down the hatch and Goosebumps immediately prickled my flesh.
“Well…how was it?” Rarity asked with muted anticipation.
“It’s…good” I lied with a squeak.
‘That tastes like moose piss mixed with petrol!’ Don’t ask how I know that, it brings up memories I’d rather forget.
Rarity frowned heavily at this, maybe she saw past my lie?
“I see…” She shook her head and smiled again, “Well, that’s why my Mana mark is in gems and not bartending”
‘Clearly’ I remarked as my insides churned.
I spent the rest of that night retching in the bathroom.
⁂
It was Friday night by the time we finally decided that we needed to return home. Rarity made a passing comment about how much Sweetie Belle hated being left behind with their parents and that her return was very much looked forward to by the young girl. Fancypants graciously offered us the use of his carriage again as he escorted us with his lover to the station. Fleur had gotten over whatever funk she had sunken into and was on speaking terms with me again, although she taken to smoking something mind numbingly thick with a theatre length cigarette holder and wearing evening gloves to prevent getting any ashes from soiling her gown. We had a great deal less bags to carry back since Fleur wanted to keep all of the ones that Rarity had made for her, which just left my garments really. We were dropped off at the station and we bid a bona fide farewell to the man who made our stay here consistently interesting.
After we had purchased our return tickets, we stood on the platform patiently waiting for our ride home. Rarity was staring up at the night sky in wonder while I was looking up for entirely different reasons. Much of them surrounded the future of Arcania in regards to the prophecy, there must be something very powerful looming over the horizon if it threatens the sanctity of the very world. I was pondering my own role in things to come when Rarity interrupted my thoughts.
“How was your time with the cellist?” She sounded…envious? I dismissed how she knew I was with Octavia, this is a city where the walls have eyes and there’s an ear under every doorsill.
“Now now Rarity, just like a lady never kisses and tells, a true gentleman never shags and brags. What happened between Octavia and myself is between Octavia and myself alone. But I can say that we enjoyed each other’s company”
“You might want to reconsider that” She said amusedly as she handed me a pair of magazines, one was titled ‘Starman magazine’ and the other ‘Dashing Debonairs’. The thing both magazines had in common was my unenthused face plastered all over the cover, staring back at me with those piercing crimson irises.
“With you being the focal point of the top two fashion articles for men, women all over the country are going to want to know all about you” Yeah, no thanks to you, squiggle hair. That reminds me.
‘Crap, I guess that means I have to go see Aloe and Lotus again’ Somehow, I don’t feel bad about this.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy with the concept of paying triple for a spa visit, evidenced by me unexplainably grinning like a twit who just won the lottery.
The steady sound of metallic wheels whirring on the rails filled the cabin as we made our way back to Magiville. The return train was punctual in its arrival, and I praised its crew for remaining diligent in their jobs even at this late hour. The conductor who made his rounds was extra quiet in order to avoid waking the passengers that already had their tickets stamped and were currently dozing off. The lamps inside of the passenger car were dimmed, window shutters were pulled all the way down, and people made soft snoring sounds as they snoozed away the rest of their sojourn in the city.
Rarity was sitting next to me and leaning her head against my shoulders. Her eyes were drooping as she valiantly tried to stave off the tempting pull of sleep, a struggle that I estimated she would be losing within four or five minutes. While I’d usually feel a little irked at how she so presumptuously was using me as her headrest without asking permission, I felt that the urge to complain about it was petty, so I overlooked her minor transgression. She was quiet too, hardly speaking two words since we boarded the train back to her home. I imagine that she had said all she had to say once she had shown me those male fashion magazines.
I still didn’t know what to think about that whole deal she had volunteered me for. I practically had my anonymity destroyed by agreeing to be Photo Finish and Picture Perfect’s latest piece of meat, and while it tickled my fancy to be considered so desirable for just being myself, it had come at a cost. Anyone who kept up with the recent fashion trends would surely recognize my face now, and I wasn’t looking forward to the consequences of that. Fame or no fame.
On the plus side, it did mean that I also had an interesting (if not expensive) therapeutic session with the Spa twins to look forward to.
The soft breathing of the woman next to me slowed perceptibly and I knew that she was no longer awake. I gingerly grabbed one of those complimentary pillows that they provided during the red eye trips and swapped my shoulder region out with it, freeing up my movements and allowing me to dig inside my rucksack for something I had acquired previously that day. One of the contents was the boxed up cheesecake that Fancypants so generously allowed me to store in his fridge before our departure. The eight cubic feet of space that the enchantments on the pack granted meant that finding what I put in was a somewhat tedious process (‘organizes material my ass’), and it didn’t cut down on the weight of the cargo itself either; though having agrarian strength mitigates this drawback greatly.
My hand finally brushed against what I was looking for and I pulled it out to be illuminated by the faint lighting of the cabin. Resting in my palm was a hilt, yet not just any kind of hilt, but the kind that was made specifically for my Mage-blade’s shards in mind. It was unique in its design, with a one and a half handed ribbed leather grip and sporting a nearly ovular shaped rounded cross-guard with a flat inlet on the end to contain the two halves of Dichotomy’s fully joined blade. It vaguely reminded me of Chrom’s Falchion from Fire Emblem, only the circular hilt wasn’t bladed itself. Eerily enough, it was almost a carbon copy of the Null blade’s hilt, down to the elaborate engravings etched onto the ‘quillons’. Only this handle actually had some physical mass to it, and would not result in your standard sword with the blade fragments attached to it.
Without thinking, I mechanically laid an arm around the slumbering woman next to me, taking extra care not to wake her from her sleep. She made a pleased humming sound and snuggled closer to me, subconsciously murmuring something about warm marshmallow fluff. I was completely silent as I sat there and reflected on the earlier events of the day, staring at the object I held with a vague sense of dutiful rumination.
⁂
I woke up to the irritable rays of Sunlight that never failed to find the worst way to rouse me. I grumbled agitatedly to myself and sat up. Yawning with an arched stretch as I savored in one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever had the pleasure of resting on. Given the amount of time I spent dry heaving last night, I wryly imagined that even the smallest amount of sleep would have felt refreshing. Throwing the sheets off in an undignified manner (Not that I really cared. Nigel had maids for that sort of thing), I made myself presentable in the restroom and got dressed in one of those fancy outfits that Rarity made for me but didn’t include in the fashion show, which had inescapably made me the talk of the town.
I gave myself a once over in the mirror to make sure that I looked as spiffy as I felt. I was wearing one of those outfits that would not have looked out of place on a European Prince from the nineteenth century. A double-breasted burgundy frock coat with legitimate golden buttons covered my chest region. Complimenting those colors were a pair of navy blue slacks that were made of a slightly shimmery material that glimmered in the morning light. I chose to forgo the included bowtie. The only time I’d ever wear one of those was if I was in a penguin suit. I figured that a cravat haphazardly stuffed into my neck region was classy enough for my tastes. My personal favorite facet about my ensemble however, were the ornately braided Epaulettes adorning my shoulders. Epaulettes epitomize epicness in my honest opinion.
‘I look like a regular Prince Albert, sans the fancy medals’ I jocularly observed, albeit I was a bit too clean-shaven to faithfully pull off the look. I had also kept my full armament equipped to my person. I felt…more exposed without them, despite the impressive amount of destructive combat magic I could sling around at a moment’s notice. There is also a certain versatility with solid weapons that magic can’t quite subvert on its own.
I didn’t mind the Victorian fashions that were so undeniably prevalent here, but I did mind the ostentatious attitudes of the people who wore them. It was one of the reasons why I preferred living near rural places like Magiville, which was a place that seemed to cater to people from all walks of life, from the well to do to the less materialistic. Although the balance of social class was slightly skewed towards the simplistic farming folk due to the town’s natural heritage.
All musing about the simpler aspects of the small town was put to the side as I heard a series of knocks on the door. I made no rush to answer it, since it came from Rarity’s side of our shared suites, and I was still a little bitter about her blatant misuse of my time and privacy to further her own nefarious ends. Once the annoying knocks increased in frequency, I stepped up my lax pace.
I grabbed the handle and gave it a twist, coming face for mid chest (again) with a woman, “G’morning Rarity, something I can help you with?” I greeted her with fake cheer. I was never really the grouchy morning type, so I might as well make an effort to be cordial.
Rarity looked ‘divine’, as she would put it, wearing a glittering dress of pure silver that caught the light in such a way that it made my shiny trousers seem grimy in comparison, “A good morning to you as well, Zenith. I trust that the malaise from last night has worn off?” She smiled innocently, that fact the she had a hand in that malaise notwithstanding.
‘Ah yes, the gut burning potion that the wicked wench brewed up’ And I thought that those salad shakes that my mother used to force upon me tasted foul.
I smirked and crossed my arms together, “Indeed. It's also the last time that I take you up on an offer for a drink mixed by you”
She pouted a bit at my criticism, “I spent the better half of an hour apologizing Zenith. I certainly had no idea that a Love Po- I mean, a Lovelace Weave, would have such adverse effects on your intestinal fortitude” She corrected herself with a faint flush of embarrassment. I found it mildly interesting that sewing and alcoholic drinks were associated in this wacky world.
I was no fool. Rarity somehow concocted a Love Potion using the ingredients in the secluded third floor bar, likely with the intention of making me a little more susceptible to her charm. The only reason I was bold enough to knowingly drink it was because I’ve found that my Trifect physiology is practically impervious to the ill effects of whatever unhealthy thing I ingest, so the only issue I had to worry about was getting rumblies in my tumblies.
I wanted to rub my temples in aggravation at the very thought of me doting over the drama queen for any reason. Why was this socialite woman still gunning for my affections? The only person I think would be less of a match for me from her little cadre would be the overly energetic and notorious party girl Pinkamena Diane Pie. Which led me down another mental tangent where I’d imagine myself actually spending time with said party girl. I pitied future me, and bemoaned the lack of common headache suppressants in this land.
“Is there a reason beyond wishing me a good morning that you’ve come knocking on my door for?” I asked directly, growing weary of the word games that this woman loved to play out.
The mischievous (at least to me) glint in her eyes died down a bit, “Why must you always assume that I have a hidden agenda every time I speak Zenith?” She looked hurt, her eyes brimming with moisture and her smile sagging downward.
Confound this woman! She manages to blur the lines between crocodile tears and actual tears a lot more than I care for.
I half chuckled with pure cynicism, “I’m sorry Rares, but after your little stint manipulating Concordia’s most well known fashion photographers and sworn rivals into actually working together, I think I’m entitled to be just a little paranoid with how you so cunningly wrap people around your finger”
She blinked at my sudden nickname for her before bristling at the criticism with a brief huff, “I’m insulted, Zenith. I do not ‘wrap people around my finger’ as you put it. I only make them see what is in our common interest” She defended, her misty eyes having dried up in record time. Crocodile tears it was then.
I snorted at her justification, “It is hardly common, and I’ll be fortunate if I can ever forgo the need to wear a hood in the streets of this city ever again” Getting mobbed by adoring fans is not all it's cracked up to be, believe me.
Being the intensely social creature she was, the idea of avoiding unwanted attention just didn’t register with her, “Why would you ever want to, darling? Are you not ecstatic, knowing that you will star in the fantasies of every well read woman within the whole of the entire country? That you will become the envy of men everywhere? The bane of those atrocious bell-bottom wearing miscreants skulking about in backwater holdouts, insisting that theirs is the true fashion?” Her face was a rictus of disgust after referencing the last one. I had to agree with her on that, bell-bottoms are hideous.
I shook my head, “None of those things appeal to me in any way. I’d never sacrifice anonymity for frivolous fame; which is always short lived, if I may remind you. I’m a man who prefers his privacy, and after dodging all of those fan girls in just the days prior, that preference is forever solidified” Going active camo for extended periods of time was an unnecessary drain of mana, and I hate being wasteful.
She sighed, hoping against hope that I would indulge her, “I swear, you can be more stubborn than Applejack when it comes to embracing the recognition that you so richly deserve” She declared, seemingly citing her country friend’s modesty as an inhibitor to her popularity.
“Applejack is humble, which I’d say is a good trait to have. I like that in a woman” I remarked offhand, idly noticing the spark of thought behind those pretty deep blue orbs of hers.
“Is that so…?” She muttered to herself, before refocusing on me, “Well…that aside, I came to ask you if you might be interested in accompanying both Fleur and myself to the Opera Théâtral for the showing of The Plenipotentiary and the Princess. It’s going to be marvelous!” She clapped her hands together excitedly.
I hummed in thought at her invitation. Operas weren’t really to my liking. Music and acting were fine by me, but I dealt with enough Prima Donnas as it was. It would just be poetic irony if Rarity took me to hear the high-pitched whining masked under the guise of ‘singing’, and this was not something I was about the give the Universe the pleasure of boring me with. The plot of such a title did intrigue me though.
“I’m afraid not my dear, I have business of my own to see to in the city today” It was a well intentioned half lie, in truth. I technically got everything out of the way as of yesterday. Plus, Fleur still looked at me as if I was a dark omen for her career popularity, so it was probably for the best if we gave each other our separate space.
I continued before she could express her disappointment, “But. I would very much appreciate it if you could appropriate one of their program pamphlets for me. The synopsis sounds splendidly stimulating” And I had just reached my quota for alliteration for the day.
She nodded somewhat begrudgingly, “I most certainly shall, darling. It’s a shame that you cannot come, though I suppose Fleur and I could make it a girls’ day out on the town instead” She said with a light giggle, one that positively reeked of a future shopping spree in mind. Hopefully using Fancypant’s line of credit and not mine. The munny pouch was getting a little slim lately.
‘So long as she doesn’t make me carry back any of her junk’ Bad memories of me being used as my mother’s pack mule for her ceaseless errands came crawling out of the depths that I had buried them, before being banished once more, like the slight fog dissipating outside in the heat of the morning sun.
I was about to cease our conversation when she suddenly spoke up, “One last thing my dear. There is a particular event at which you are expected, hosted an hour after midday”
My brow rose at this, “And what event, pray tell, is that?”
“Your unfamiliarity with weekend public gatherings in Concordia is understandable, but your presence has been personally requested at the Hall of Recreation in the palace by popular demand” She informed me.
“Can I decline?” She scoffed and adamantly shook her head.
“Will you be there?” I then asked in follow up, having anticipated her response.
She laughed haughtily, “But of course! Everybody who’s somebody will be attending. Although…” She rubbed a sultry finger in small circles along my chest out of habit, “Only I will get to have you all to myself on the dance floor”
I shrugged noncommittally, “That’s acceptable, I need someone like you to run interference for me when I get swarmed by the curious Elite”
“You really shouldn’t be so antisocial Zenith, it comes off as rude you know” She spoke reproachfully, eliciting another snort from me.
“I am asocial, not antisocial. Learn the difference and commit it to heart, because I’ll only explain that once” I was bugged about this far too many times back home, and I wasn’t about to put up with it here.
She gave me a look that told me that she equated the two terms in her book, “Oh? And would you care to enlighten me to the differences in regards to you?”
“Antisocial people go out of their way to avoid interaction of any kind, whether it is due to their lack of communicative skill or if they just plain despise others. Asocial people like me can tolerate it, we just don’t go seeking it” That’s how I’ve come to understand it anyway.
“There you go using that plurality Zenith. You’re one of the very very few people I’ve ever met who is visibly annoyed when surrounded by people who express an interest in you, it’s not healthy to be so aloof” She chided me with a disapproving glower. Is the desire to not have to put up with people really such a crime?
I was severely tempted to vocalize my exasperation with a groan. She just didn’t get it. How could she? Alongside the Pink one, she’s easily one of the most sociable women I could ever acquaint myself with. Most of her socializing involved sidling up to people with influence and wealth like Fancypants, those who could prove to be reliable financial backers for her ambitions to spread her designs across the whole of the country, and even beyond Arcania’s borders.
“Do try to be a little more chatty at the function, for me?” She flashed me a winning smile. It was genuine, as far as I could tell, so I actually factored it into my consideration.
“I make no guarantees, but I will try” I compromised, using a halfhearted gesture of my hands. Her smile grew a centimeter upon hearing that.
‘But I don’t have to be happy about it!’ I internally groused.
We said our goodbyes as Rarity left our rooms in search of the grudge holding Fleur de lis somewhere in the bowels of the mammoth manor. To be frank, I kind of preferred Nigel’s other woman Blissful Bounty’s more down to Earth personality, though I didn’t like the leering way she stared at me when she thought she wasn’t under my watchful eye. I chalked it up to my recent surge in fame and dismissed it as wistful lust. Rationalizing this made it no less perplexing however. Nigel was almost the perfect spouse, desirable by classy women everywhere, and the only thing I held over him in the looks department was my youthful vigor. Perhaps it was just that idle fancy that strikes even married people as they imagine what could have been. It was still a little baffling that the prodigious man only had two special women in his love life, although a man of his standing must select his mates quite carefully I suspect.
I grabbed my rucksack and set out myself in search of something to do. Having exhausted my list of priorities in regards to the mundane tasks I had created for myself, I only had one more thing that called for my attentions, and that was a visit with Royalty. I treaded fastidiously around and over several distinguished looking people who had a little too much to drink during last night’s party and were laying about in various (and mostly unflattering) poses of hung over sobriety. One the benefits of not being able to experience the fabled touch of alcohol was that I didn’t have to put up with that peculiar after effect, which was fine by me.
Nigel’s many house servants were preoccupied with cleaning the mess the partygoers had made, such as sweeping up the multicolored streamers lining the floor and setting overturned furniture upright. Some very expensive looking chattels were in fact, damaged after the previous night’s debauchery and were in the process of actually being replaced by identical looking sets. I whistled to myself in bedazzlement, Fancypants must have been incredibly rich from his business ventures if he had replacement furniture on standby for such events of merrymaking.
I thought I’d try to find the genteel man somewhere in the disarrayed central atrium of the house where sunlight poured in from the crystalline skylight. Nobody in their right mind would pass out in that spot from their drunkenness unless they wanted their Regent of the Sun’s namesake to give them a rude awakening and aggravate their extra sensitivity to brightness.
My efforts were met with partial success, for I found the man I was looking for. Only I wasn’t able to catch him by himself, instead he was engaged in conversation with a Stellar Mage couple that seemed oddly familiar to me, though I could not match their faces to a name at that moment. Nigel’s face was stolid as he spoke with them, though I could tell from this distance that he was irritated with their sycophantic behavior, based on the almost imperceptibly narrowed slant in his eyes. I felt it best to just blend into the background until they buggered off, but Nigel had keener eyesight than I suspected and spotted me lurking in the shadows. With a grin gracing his features for the first time, he waved me over with a two fingered curling gesticulation.
I reluctantly obliged and approached, the couple’s heads swiveling to see what was more important than whatever they were sucking up to Fancypants for. As I drew closer, I took in their features for profiling. The man was of average height and wearing a green and white polo shirt with an ivory sweater draped around his shoulders and light grey khakis adorning his legs. The woman with two-tone hair standing next to him was wearing a pink and white sweater vest with a sunflower yellow skirt. She was also sporting a string of pricey looking pearls around her neck, probably to accentuate that ‘I’m wealthier than you’ conceitedness that their nose in the air attitude was suggesting. Both had zircon focal gems dotting their foreheads, polished to a mirror shine.
“Ah, if it isn’t Concordia’s newest toast of the town!” He cheerfully greeted me. The couple’s eyes lit up as they inevitably recognized my face, and I resisted the urge to grimace at the ingratiating spark I saw in them.
“Good morning Nigel” I said to the more casually dressed man (light blue breeches and a white dress shirt, as if he had just gone horseback riding), before addressing the other two, “And a good morning to you two as well, mister and missus…?” They were obviously married, evidenced by the shiny wedding bands on their fingers.
The man with the ovular glasses resting on his nose spoke first, “The mornings in our glorious city are magnificent as always, so the idea of expressing that to us feels rather redundant. But where are my manners? I’m Jet Set and this here is my lovely wife Upper Crust. Both of us are keystone members of this city” He introduced the two of them with a self-important smirk and gaudy accent that reeked of egotism.
‘Funny, he’s certainly wearing the colors of the New York Jets’ The statement of his name alone made my eye twitch in bemusement, do Jet aircraft even exist here?
I could only assume based on their names and his wife’s bit coin symbol Mana mark that they had been born into their wealth, not having earned it the tedious way like Nigel had. Although I shouldn’t just make these speculations from visual evidence alone, they could just be naturally snobby. I’ve met plenty of people who held themselves in a superior manner for simply being just as rich through their labors, humility from humble roots be damned.
His wife spoke up, using a voice that had an underlying accent in it that didn’t originate from this city, “And you must be Zenith, the one people are already referring to as the ‘Cock of the walk’. You’re as impressively alluring as the magazine’s portray you, perhaps more so” She openly admired with a coy smile, one that made her husband roll his eyes at her antics. It made me wonder if they were one of those swinger couples or if she was just the flirtatious type.
‘Really? The Cock of the walk? I don’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted by this new title. Plus it’s only been a few days! If this city’s bread mill was as efficient as its rumor mill, they’d have enough to feed America for a week’ I detest the grape vine sometimes.
Her facial features wrinkled as she caught sight of the rucksack sitting on my shoulders, “But what is that atrocious looking pack you’re lugging around like a common citizen? It’s of such crude construction that it looks like you purchased it from some backcountry market stand” She said with a derogatory giggle.
“That’s probably because I did indeed purchase this from a backcountry town. The enchantments on it are useful and it’s rugged enough to withstand some attrition when I venture out into the great unknown” I explained, my serious demeanor causing them to stagger in their attempt to seem chummy in front of Fancypants.
“But, surely you must have attendants waiting on you for that sort of thing! It’s not proper to strain one’s self with activity when there are servants for such things!” She exclaimed in protest, shuddering at the idea of putting in any kind of physical effort into her endeavors.
“If you want something done right, you ought to do it for yourself. I've always been a more hands on kind of man anyway” I countered with moxie, “And don’t call me Shirley, I merely go by Zenith” I added as an afterthought, confusing them greatly.
This couple was starting to bore me, so I directed my focus back to Fancypants, “Might I have a word with you, Nigel? In private?” The eager look on the couple’s faces shrank to nil at their exclusion.
His relieved grin spoke of his gratitude in droves, “Of course my good man! Let us away”
He picked the direction and I followed suit, leading me up the stairs and towards an unfrequented terrace on his second floor. It was yet another sumptuous section of his home, overlooking a decent portion of the valley below that wasn’t blocked by the other manor homes. The furniture here was more…modest for lack of a better word, consisting of wooden lawn chairs lined up side by side with flat cushions and floral patterns on them and a glass coffee table. There was also another one of those mini bars positioned against the wall.
Nigel motioned for me to take a seat while he fixed himself a brandy, he asked if I wanted a drink myself, but I declined his generosity. Much to his slightly fascinated intrigue, as evidenced a single raised eyebrow and a thoughtful hum. He joined me as we overlooked the sunrise, a Brandy over the rocks in one hand and a larger bottle of similar fluid in the other.
“So what is on your mind, my stone faced friend?” He asked before taking a swig of his first drink, relishing in its flavor before downing the rest in a few swift gulps and placing the empty glass on the table with a sharp clink.
“At first, nothing. It was just a ploy to save you from the brown nosers” I admitted, before continuing, “But now that I think about it, I have a few questions regarding the dynamics of a harem, and how they operate in this society of ours”
He blinked at this odd inquiry, before grinning to me, “You need only ask, my young lad!” He began to favor the left armrest as he leaned closer to me.
I gave myself a moment to think about what I would ask first, since I had quite a few concerns that needed to be addressed. I decided on a fairly simple one, “What is the maximum number of women that a man in this land can designate as his ladyloves?”
Nigel scratched at his chin, “There isn’t an actual limit, imposed by law or otherwise, but the societal norm is about four to six. I know of one chap with no less than ten women on his hands, busy fellow he is” He said with a chuckle.
It took me a few moments to process that answer, it was about what I was expecting, though hearing it for myself erased any lingering doubts I may or may not have had.
“I know that the man is the central figure in these harems, being the target of affection from his loves, but what about the women’s relationships with each other? How would you classify that?”
I could see the gears in his mind turning as he meditated on his answer, “That’s a little more complicated than I might be capable of clearing up for you, having only two loves myself. But it would be safe to say that a harem benefits from having friendly relations between all of its members, so under ideal circumstances everyone would know everyone else and be on good terms”
“And should conflict arise between two female members?” I naturally followed up.
“As with all strained relationships, it's best to let the two of them work it out in their own time. I would also recommend against taking sides…outwardly anyway. But if you see a chance of orchestrating reconciliation between the two parties, then you should take it every time. And that advice conveniently applies to matters of business as well!” He chuckled jovially.
“And umm…” I hesitated momentarily, “For the activities that happen behind closed doors?” It felt improper to ask, but I didn’t want to have to find out about this the hard way.
He held up an unforthcoming hand, “That is between you and your lovers, my inexperienced friend” He half said in between his renewed chortles.
Well, I guess I couldn’t have everything spelled out for me. It was probably unique for every group of unions anyway.
He then spoke to me in a conspiratorial whisper, “But between you and I, ménage à trois is best reserved after a few glasses of white wine from the well tempered vineyards of Shady Hollow” If it wasn’t for the fact that I was nigh unsusceptible to innuendos, I’m pretty sure I would be rather taken aback from that unexpected bit of info.
I maintained a straight face, “I will definitely keep that in mind. Any other pieces of relational wisdom you wish to impart upon me?”
He looked faintly amused with how well I could retain my composure, “No matter what you say or do, your loves are always in the right. Even when they aren’t. Is that clear?” He sounded real serious about this one. I replied with a noncommittal grunt, which he misconstrued as a yes.
‘Happy wives equals happy lives is it? Very well’ But I absolutely refuse to let myself become some hen pecked husband, and masculine pride has nothing to do with it.
“One last question, how do living arrangements work out?” Would everyone live in the same house like Fancypants and his two women? Or would I have to equally divide my time among them one on one?
Nigel recalled his own exposure, “In the beginning, I courted both around the same time, making sure to devote certain days to each. However, once we realized that we were all suited for each other, we made this house our home” His grin morphed into more of a happily reminiscent smile.
“I don’t think I’ll have the same luxury, one of the women I’m in a relationship with lives in this city, while I’m currently based down in Magiville” It’s awfully inconvenient to force someone into a long distance relationship, think of the hours spent commuting alone!
“Well, if what they say is to be believed, true love always finds a way to make things work, in spite of the obstacles facing it. I can personally vouch for its veracity” He tipped a refilled glass of alcohol my way in a ‘true-story’ fashion before drinking deeply of it.
‘Poetic, but not entirely informative’ I really wanted to ask him how I was supposed to handle the advent of progeny, but I’d already asked my last question.
“You know, I was the firstborn of my father. Therefore as the age old law of primogeniture often goes, I inherited his titles and the vast majority of his holdings when he finally retired from the scene” I wasn’t sure if he saw the inquiry in my eyes or if he felt like arbitrarily speaking, but my unasked question was mostly answered by that.
“Did you have siblings?” He nodded lethargically, “What about them? What did they do?”
“They went on to pursue their own happiness. Last I checked, I have a at least one brother or sister in every major city, most making a good name for themselves” He shifted in his seat, a far off look on his face, “Oh how I yearn that I could keep in physical touch with them. But sadly, to be a Fancypants is to be constantly busy tending to one’s own affairs” He let out a longing sigh. This seemed to be a sore spot for him, frowning for the first time since I’ve known him.
I was about to open my mouth and suggest planning some kind of weekend get away for himself and his siblings to enjoy when the sound of a servant politely knocking on the wall behind us alerted me that our peaceful seclusion had reached its end. Nigel flicked his finger and signaled him to come closer.
The servant moved to Fancypant’s side and passed him a note, “One of our guests has received a Royal summons, sir”
Nigel gave the note a brisk read over, “Conveniently enough, that guest is right here” He passed it to me for my reviewing.
It wasn’t the decorated slip of paper that I’d usually seen on Rarity whenever she attended some flamboyant gathering of nobles like she was so fond of doing. Instead, it was straight to the point like one would expect on a telegram, requesting my presence at the palace at my earliest availability. Though I imagine that they only phrased it that way out of courtesy, and I needed to get my rear in gear.
I stood up from my chair and swung my pack around my shoulders, “Thanks for shedding some light on that subject, your advice is most appreciated” I inclined my head respectfully.
He returned the gesture, “Anytime my friend, do say hello to the Princesses for me will you?”
I gave him an affirmative nod and salute before leaving the premises of the manor, bound for the spires of the castle. The walk there took a little over a quarter of an hour; since Fancypant’s place was located further away from the central city’s grid and I took the back alleys and other shortcuts that would keep me veiled from the eyes of the general public. Even in the grand capital city, the seedier portions of it nagged at the back of my head. The streets themselves were pristine and luxurious, but rubbish and filth was scattered everywhere the Sunlight didn’t shine down on, reminding me of a pseudo gilded age analog of nineteenth century America. Suspiciously cloaked men watched me intently, their eyes hidden behind the shadows of their hood. The outfit I was wearing didn’t exactly project a formidable aura, so I was likely being sized up by default. It was enough to make me feel like I was only moments away from bumping into a shady character and getting mugged (although the profit margin would be minimal at best, given the near anorexic girth of my munny pouch. I’d have to ask for my next stipend up front. Huzzah for taxpayers!). My hands began to migrate on their own from my sides until they were inches away from the handle of my blade, just in case.
A quick ascension up a raggedy set of cobblestone stairs and I was bathed in the light of day once more. The tight quarters back there were inspiring a feeling akin to claustrophobia, and a breath escaped my lips that I wasn’t even aware that I had been holding to begin with. I made a mental note to myself to avoid taking the clandestine route again unless I absolutely had to.
From there the gates of the Palace were within visual distance. The guards on duty must have recognized me from before, as they signaled their comrades in the gatehouse to raise the first of three portcullises in anticipation of my arrival.
Once I was within range, the one on my right held up a hand for me to stop, “State your name and business” He ordered officially, before adding in an apologetic tone, “Sorry sir, it’s standard procedure”
‘I recognize that voice’
“I am the one called Zenith, and I recently received an official summons” I produced the paper and gave it to the man, who spared it a cursory glance.
“Since when were you assigned gate duty Valiant?” I casually chatted with him, his helmet twisting upwards in surprise.
“I’m honored that you remember me, my Phlegmatic Prince. And to answer your question, all guards get this rotation at least twice every other week. We can’t always stand in the same place every single day, now can we?” He explained with a raspy chuckle.
The man next to him spoke up, “I scanned him. He’s not one of those skin changing freaks” I could just picture him sneering from underneath his golden helm as he said that.
“You mean the changelings?” I lightheartedly clarified. I was gladdened to see that their security was not completely lax; infiltrators of that caliber are not a laughing matter. The man merely grumbled something unintelligible in response, the wounds from this city’s altercation with them likely still fresh.
It was interesting to note that the only way to distinguish the clan types of the guards were from the round clasps holding up their capes, due to their extensive armor keeping most of their features covered. The Stellar Magi got some kind of runic symbol that reminded me of an arcane triple Venn diagram, Agrarian soldiers had this metallic tree with roots and branches, and Valkyrian guards wore a sword with wings as their emblem.
“You’re clear to go, my Prince. Our majestic herald of the Sun expects you in the throne room” I was temporarily taken off guard by how they did not bother to search my things, although the system of trust here meant that they only needed to confirm my identity. It’s going to a long while before I shake off the customs of home.
He and the other guard clicked their heels together and held their skillfully crafted Glaives forward in some kind of formal military salute and said no more.
On cue, the other layers of the gate began to rise, inviting me inside. I walked amongst the winding paths of the courtyard as I made my way to the central structure of the palace, where the Princess was apparently awaiting me. What could she want to talk to me about? It must be fairly important, if she was willing to cancel her morning hearings for my sake. Then again, she might just be using me as an excuse to cancel them for the heck of it. I wouldn’t blame her for doing so, day court was boring as all hell at times (endlessly amusing at it was to make the prissy nobles sweat when they were acting foolish in full view of their ruler, the court proceedings weren’t always so cut and dried). Yet another reason for me to delay on accepting that Prince hood that Celestia seemed so insistent for me to embrace.
A few critters that wandered outside of the famous gardens where they resided perked their heads up from the various shrubs and neatly trimmed trees they were nestled in as I passed them by. Some of them even remembered me from the times that I would come there in order to get away from the noise and posh people that came to voice complaints of a generic sort and perched on my shoulders to chirp or chitter happily. I paid them little mind and let the tiny things have their fun. I never understood just how the creatures of this land were so in tune with people, it was enough to make one feel like a regular Snow White, I swear.
I breezed past the doors leading to the Night Court’s throne room, which was almost the polar opposite of its day court sibling; whose doors didn’t directly lead outside. I only attended it once when I spent an all nighter just casually conversing with Luna in her palatial and very much empty court chamber. The decorations inside wouldn’t have been out of place in a Goth’s room, an imposing black could be found on every surface and actually shaded the marble columns keeping everything up, with ghostly iron lanterns bathing everything in a pale light and giving it an ominous feel. I may have openly mentioned to Luna that her shortage of vociferous vassals was probably due to the oppressive atmosphere of her lair, to which she laughed and assured me that the layout was very much a deliberate decision.
Another duo of guards sent me a gesture of salutation before opening up the main doors and ushering me inside the entrance hall. Unlike every other time I was here during this duration of the day, the rouge tinted carpeted stairs were vacant of people. Combine the emptiness with the vast open aired halls that composed Concordia Castle, and it felt pretty desolate to the average observer. It was as if there was a heavy atmosphere of authority bearing down on you, forcing you to think twice about your actions.
Of course, that sensation of a heavy atmosphere might have just been my unique peripheral perception for the Princesses’ auras switching on. This particular one belonged to the Sun Monarch, and from what I could tell; she was in a deeply contemplative, nearly brooding mood. I couldn’t discern much more than that really, acute empathic reception doesn’t exactly translate into telepathy all that well.
The armor-clad Stellar Mage guards of Celestia’s Solar division gave me a quick nod of acknowledgment before slowly magicking the last of the monumental portals leading to my destination open, the hinges making a short and sonorous grinding noise before finally giving way to the force being applied to them. With my entrance granted, I strolled past the metaphorical threshold and into the figurative heart of the nation.
I’ve described it before, but the main throne room (as far as most were concerned) was an awe inspiring sight, especially with the sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows and illuminating everything in a flurry of colors. Lofty white marble pillars braced the checkered ceiling and served to additionally reinforce the Olympian air that the castle at the top of a mountain exuded. There was a slight Earthy scent of incense in the air that was smack dab in the goldilocks’ zone, not too overpowering, not too underwhelming. The twin fountains at the foot of the dais never emitted any sound, despite the volume of water they produced; something that never ceased to fascinate me. The smooth tile floors were polished and buffed to a mirror shine, without even the faintest sign of blemishes or marring to be detected anywhere. One could say that it reflected the immaculate righteousness of its sole occupant, and I would call that person a bleeding heart; the palace cleaning staff was just that zealous in their sense of duty.
The Princess herself was not in her seat of power, instead opting to stand off to the side and stare at one of the windows, her normally flowing vibrant hair subdued in its undulations, as though mirroring her musing disposition. Those who were more observant however, could tell that her gaze extended much further than that.
I stood a respectful distance away from her and announced my presence aloud, “You called for me your majesty?”
“Drop the formalities Zenith. We are in close enough company that this discussion will be sub rosa, and we have much to discuss” There was no hint of cheer in her voice this time, only that calculating yet warm tone from when I first met her.
“Of course, Celestia” I conceded as the statuesque and regal woman faced me, that indecipherable mask measuring me at all moments. For some inexplicable reason, my mind’s theme song for her immediately switched from a legendary and apposite Beatle’s track to ‘Hard Sun’ by Eddie Vedder.
“First and foremost, I’d like to ask how you’ve been taking to your time with the Elements so far. I trust that their company has been most refreshing, no?” She allowed the smallest crack in her composure in the form of a grin, confident as she was in the girls’ abilities to inculcate the ideals of friendship and harmony into an unsmiling person like me.
“Refreshing isn’t one of the words I’d use…more like enlivening” I evenly replied, recalling just how eventful my time spent in Magiville was since the very beginning of my arrival. Though on second thought, nearly anything would be considered eventful to a laid back person such as myself.
Her expression remained unchanged, “My dearest student speaks of you frequently, you know. Referring to you as one of her most difficult challenges, one that she has devoted much time to in planning and devising methods for adjusting you to the Arcanian way of life” Her tone was suspiciously convinced, making me wonder if she permitted the librarian to use any means necessary.
‘Pfft, more like assimilating’ A humorous image of Twilight as a Borg somehow found its way to the forefront of my mind. Resistance is futile indeed.
I was about to open my mouth and inform her that we needed to speak about the methods of her precious pupil, and why she needed to be reminded that some doors were not meant to be opened so flagrantly, but the Princess continued to talk, forcing me to reserve my solicitude.
“It has become obvious that her friends have also had some impact on you. I must admit that I certainly did not expect the city’s latest topic of popular discussion to be centered primarily on you of all people” She giggled for the first time, as though the notion itself were absurd.
“Yes well, it was either agree to model Rarity’s winter fashions for men, or put up with her no doubt constant whining for the rest of our stay if I refused. Not to mention that if I’m to be amongst the aristocracy, I’ve got to look the part” I dryly explained to the radiant woman while clutching at the lapels of my coat. I still hated being strong-armed into crap that I didn’t want to do, even if I did put my own spin on it.
“Or perhaps you realized that friends simply do each other favors that do not require to be repaid?” She arched a brow at me, like she was expecting to receive some kind of pseudo friendship report. Ha! Not from me she wouldn’t.
I waved my hand in the air dismissively, “Sure sure, let’s go with that” I should probably should have felt bad for the tiny spark of exasperation in her eyes, but I didn’t.
She massaged one of her temples with a duo of fingers and sighed, “In time you will come to realize the paramount attributes of the bonds that link us all, but I suppose that it is too much to expect you to recognize this now” She got that last part right. I just wish she wouldn’t go about this whole ‘you need friends’ rigmarole this way.
“Listen Celestia, I’m willing to buy into this fraternal camaraderie spiel you seem so intent on promoting, but I’ll be going about it by my own pace. Don’t expect leaps and bounds from a naturally introverted individual like myself, especially one that prefers his own company” I unintentionally let some spite seep into my voice, something that did not go unnoticed by the sovereign of the Sun.
“You make it sound as if you wish to pick and choose from your relationships, accepting some aspects of friendship whilst rejecting others” She commented, her face unreadable once again.
“Words can sometimes betray inner feelings, or they can just be a front for something else. I suspect that you know this fact quite intimately after your long reign, yes?” I could obfuscate deception about the fine art of deception. That ought to throw her off my trail.
She didn’t provide a clear answer, merely humming in response. I hate these word games that we often find ourselves playing, why can’t we be completely honest with each other? It’s one of the Harmonious Virtues she holds in such high regards for cripes sake! I decided to break the silence by changing the subject.
“I’ll be candid with you, your majesty...” I sent her an askance sidelong glance, “...because I know you’ve been so candid with me” Her face remained blank, which was about as much as I expected, “Your esteemed student attempted something that I found quite disagreeable in her valiant efforts to enlighten me to the things I’ve been purportedly missing out on” I spoke gruffly, my voice dropping in pitch to emphasize my displeasure.
“Oh? And just what had she attempted to do?” She asked, incredulous to whatever act of friendship indoctrination her student did to make me so suddenly dour.
“Delve into the very depths of my soul and make contact with the core of my being, with the underlying motive of imprinting her appreciation for friendship onto me” I answered, remembering her misguided motives from combing through her head. This answer made her eyes dilate in shock.
“SHE DID WHAT!?” The Princess exclaimed, adopting the Royal caps lock in the process. I could actually feel the floor shake from the sheer force of her voice. Lemme tell ya, I promptly began to regret having the sensitive hearing of a Skyborn at that point.
“Yell a little louder, I don’t think my hearing is ringing reverberantly enough” I said, cupping a hand to one of my ears and wincing in discomfort.
She had the good grace to look remorseful and returned to her indoor voice, “I apologize for my unwarranted reaction, but this is not a joking matter Zenith. The penalty for a transgression of that magnitude is death or multiple life imprisonments via petrifaction” Her skin grew pale and her tone was grave at the very utterance, memories of having to dispense this kind of punishment before flashing in her eyes and sending turbulent ripples through her aura.
“Huh, well its not like I’m going to press charges or anything” I said with a shrug, internally pondering how they even had a death penalty to begin with. It seemed…atypically terminal of a tranquil land like this.
“You misunderstand, this is not something that can simply go unanswered. I can circumvent the law for Twilight’s sake, but I warned her the first time that to go against another being’s Will and enkindle change under any pretenses is a crime against nature itself. There must be consequences meted out, or such behavior will continue” It’s a good thing that this all is hush hush then.
“Then why look so edgy? No one knows of this and the very action of doing so came with its own consequences” I calmly remarked, invoking the ‘you will explain this’ face from the monarch.
“Elaborate” She sternly requested, just a smidgeon away from ordering.
‘Wow. Celestia can be somewhat intimidating when she speaks using singular words’ There was also a dictatorial fire in her eyes that attested to her station as the premiere ruler of this nation.
I slanted my head to the right and grinned, “Gladly. You see… when Twilight caught a momentary glimpse into my life and all of the defining events that led up to why I am who I am today, she understood me. And what she understood nearly shattered her irreparably. If I hadn’t severed the connection when I did, your student would be little more than a desolate husk of a being” I fear that she might very well end up like that, despite my efforts to mop up the angst filled spillover.
But then I remembered that Twilight has something that I didn’t when I underwent my figurative desiccation of the soul, and that’s a group of true friends to look to for support. I cut off that line of thought before it made me moody, there’s no point in agonizing over something that’s already long since said and done.
“You are suggesting that your very essence…poisoned Twilight’s spirit?” She didn’t sound angry at all like I had expected, more like uncomprehending.
“Well when you put it that way, you make it seem as if I am the villain here” I flippantly opined, making her brow furrow in ruminative conciliation.
“I am not pointing fingers nor demanding justice for any crimes, Zenith. I just want to ensure that my dear, if not occasionally imprudent student hasn’t ruined her chances of becoming your friend and showing you the redeeming qualities of solid relationships” That’s what she prioritizes? I just can’t understand these people and their covetous desire of fellowship.
“That shouldn’t be a concern, since I’ve already pardoned her” She looked legitimately surprised for a second occasion, “Although I’ll be keeping a very close eye on her for some time to come” And not just because she’s damaged my trust in her.
“That is…most commendable of you Zenith, as it wouldn’t be unjustified to scorn Twilight for her foolish actions. May I ask why you are so quick to forgive?”
I answered her question with one of my own, “If I cannot forgive others their trespasses against me, then how can I expect to be forgiven for mine?” It felt incredibly dogmatic to say, but the words rang no less true for it.
This response actually floored the Princess for several moments, “Such profound insight. You consistently prove to me that there is more to you than you let on. Perhaps even more than you realize yourself, Zenith” She eyed me curiously, a newfound spark of respect glinting in her beautiful magenta irises. I rolled my eyes at her observation. Or maybe she’s just deluding herself, what you see is what you get out of me as far as I’m concerned.
“You don’t seem terribly worried for your student’s state of mind” I deflected with narrowed eyes, averse to her accolades of my character. Only Twilight got the majority of the picture, and it was a blurry one at that.
“I’ve seen nothing in her recent letters to me that indicated anything like what you’ve described. If anything, Twilight’s personal inquires into life’s many mysteries have only increased in frequency. Though I do wonder why she did not consult with me before or after this incident”
“I can’t answer you the former, but the latter has to do with my…reaction to her tampering” She said nothing, waiting for me to elucidate further, “Twilight was in a bad way after the experience,” I left her in the dark as to how roughed up she was, “and I was less than pleased as for what occurred myself. So, I entered her mind to block her access to the memories of the event, before replacing them with ones that would explain her sore condition and keep any nagging suspicions to a minimum”
Celestia inhaled a deep breath and let it out strenuously, “It is fortunate that this is a private matter, or my hands would be tied” I didn’t like the implications of being ‘stoned’ either.
“I know all too well the value of discretion Celestia” I stoically uttered, well aware of the many undisclosed secrets that I kept in total obscurity.
‘Better than anyone else really’ Save for perhaps my immortal colleagues, but none that I knew of had outworlder knowledge. Maybe Pinkie, but I hadn’t spent enough time around her to determine just how aware she was of the bigger picture, if you could even call it awareness.
“You realize that you cannot simply bury this. You and Twilight must come to terms with one another or your relationship with her will suffer for it” Her tone brooked no argument, not that I felt the need to be contrary.
I smiled a bit at the leeway her words provided, “My terms are that her memories of what she saw stay blacked out. I’ll only fully reconcile with Twilight if she knows what she’s done…not what she’s seen” I briefly gestured to her with an index finger, “Furthermore, I want you to be our mediator, to provide a basis of jurisdiction. As well as be her emotional comfort if she becomes overly distraught at the realization that she was wrongfully meddling in things that she couldn’t hope to comprehend”
“I wasn’t aware that this was a negotiation” She said with a sportive grin.
“And I wasn’t aware that I am considered absolutely answerable to anyone other than my God” I coolly replied, daring her to challenge that irrevocable belief.
“For someone who does not wish to take on the mantle of sovereign responsibility befitting a Prince, you seem keen on shrewdly thinking like one. I accept this sensible arrangement” She observed with that knowing smile that always got on my nerves.
She continued before I could voice my ire at the unfair comparison, “But know this. You have reparations of your own to make. And I know of a way that will satisfy all parties” Her smile became a mischievous grin, one that warned me to be on the lookout.
“I’m so glad that you agreed” I sarcastically monotoned, “With that decided on, is there anything else on your mind? You seemed…pensive, earlier” I said, recollecting how she was when I first walked in.
“Those relate to matters of the state, particularly those concerning foreign affairs. You’d have to be an official member of Royalty or in the diplomatic division of government in order to be apprised of the situation” She spoke in that imperious tone that she’d use to cow misbehaving nobles into doing her bidding or evicting themselves from her sight. I spent enough time around her that I could reliably tell when she was bluffing though.
I crossed my arms together, “Very funny Celestia, are you or are you not going to tell me?”
She made a motion with her hand for me to follow her, before utilizing her golden magic and revealing a panel hidden in the stained glass that opened like a sliding screen. It led out into a balcony that not only overlooked most of the city below, but a large expanse of the surrounding region surrounding the mountain that Concordia was perched upon. Stratopolis was clearly visible, slowly orbiting around the mountaintop and distributing weather related services to the whole of the nation. There was a cool breeze coming in from the north that made the wintery air taste crisper than usual. I reasoned that she wanted to use this platform to provide a sense of perspective to what she was going to tell me.
“Nice view” I acclaimed, before I craned my head towards the Princess, “What does it have to do with our chat?”
“There have been occasions throughout history where that nice view came dangerously close to becoming a ravaged view. And only the combined efforts of both my sister and myself have prevented that from becoming a reality. Do you wish to know why I originally chose this location to make our permanent Capital after the Night Terror decimated my old castle?”
The answer was already clear to me even before she asked, “Tactical supremacy of course. This city has a distinct advantage in that is located centrally in the country, buffering it from invasions by land. Its elevation grants a high degree of visibility in almost all directions, and acts as a sort of beacon of stability and hope for the surrounding cities settlements in viewing range. It also has natural wellsprings of fresh water in case it is ever cut off from supply and or besieged. All of these things make it highly defensible, and overall an excellent location to set up a home base” It’s prime real estate through and through. This place makes the Eagle’s nest look like a run down decrepit old shack in comparison!
She nodded, “That was the largest factor, I’ll grant you. But I also chose this spot because it decreased the physical distance between Luna and I during her exile on the moon”
“Was there a motive behind that? Or did you feel that being even the slightest bit closer to your sister brought some small measure of comfort?” Celestia didn’t seem the type to make these decisions based on their figurative benefits.
“It made it easier to establish a magical connection in order to speak with her, to encourage her to fight back against the darkness that made its domain in her own heart” She sighed, and she suddenly seemed to feel all of the years she lived weigh down on her mercilessly. Her vivid ethereal hair dimmed and began to waver, with the three-pronged golden tiara that adorned her head looking more like a burdensome weight than a symbol of strength.
“But I could never get through to her. The only discourse I received was boundless hatred brimming with spite filled threats, promising to bring untold suffering upon those who she believed had wronged her” She said somberly, clutching the banister railing till her knuckles turned white and the metal began to warp under her grasp.
“And you knew that she would return, as predicted by the Sisters of Fate” I tentatively added, and she released her death grip and composed herself in response.
“I knew that I could not stop her a second time, since the Elements no longer recognized me as one of their wielders. But I also knew that they would not stay dormant either, so I set into motion a plan that took centuries before going into full effect. Of which, Magiville was a byproduct of” She said, motioning to the aforementioned town that looked like collection of tiny dollhouses from up here.
I hummed thoughtfully, “I figured as much. You weighed your decisions in both their short and long term viability, meticulously setting up the stage until you all but guaranteed the most desirable outcome for the good of all”
“To a degree” She admitted, sounding glad that she could openly speak of this to another besides her sister for a change. We both stared out at the airship traffic ferrying goods and people from all over before she resumed, “Though my student’s actions and the relationships she forged before facing my sister and cleansing her of the evil festering in her heart were all her own. I never once doubted in Twilight’s capabilities…not only as my protégé, but also as a person of respectable character. One who could not only see the good in herself, but bring out the same good in others” She spoke dotingly, a small yet profound smile gracing her lips.
‘Intermittent slip ups aside’ I pettily grumbled to myself like a curmudgeon.
“Given that this planet still has its day and night cycles and isn’t a lifeless hunk of rock, I’d say that your faith in her was well placed” I jested, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere a little.
She remained silent, and I felt like I had committed some kind of personal faux pas against her, when she spoke, “I have lived for a very long time Zenith, and there are very few I’ve known in that duration who’ve had a penchant for understatements quite like yourself”
I grinned, “Why thank you Celestia! And by the way, you don’t look a day past three hundred” I flattered her, using a hybridized form of sincerity and facetiousness.
She vocalized a rich laughter, one that was equal parts melodious and harmonious, “For your sake, I’ll take that as a compliment” She said between intakes of air. I didn’t think that my quip was all that funny, but she had a beautiful sounding laugh, so it was worth it.
“You still haven’t told me what’s been really bugging you” As much as I love bantering with her Royal Highness, I didn’t really care for her subtle attempts at diversion.
She gave me a sidelong glance, “Honestly? Right now the flavor of the week is Gryphondria”
“What about ‘em?”
“High King Aloysius the Vigilant, the current ruler of the Kingdom, and someone who is already in his twilight years, has recently taken ill. The first word we’ve received after a nearly three year self-imposed silence, and it’s grave news of all things” She chuckled a dark and mirthless chuckle.
‘Did she just make a pun? Such a morbid sense of timing!’ Gallows humor aside, this actually sounded fairly serious.
“Okay, and does he have any heirs? Furthermore, don’t Gryphondrian monarchs split power with a council of sorts?” I asked in succession, remembering what Luna had shown me in the dream world.
“He has but one heir, and she is currently serving as an official ambassador to her people in the city of Baltimӕr. Unofficially, she is being kept here for her own safety by the request of her father. As for your other question, what makes you think that a council is not itself subject to the corruption of power? Especially when it is headed by the same highborn families that foster an age old animosity towards Arcania?” She rhetorically stated, likely having seen it happen before.
I was putting the pieces together, and I didn’t like what the preliminary end result suggested, “Her safety would be in question if she stayed in her homeland, wouldn’t it?”
“That is safe to assume, yes. It is unsettling to think of what that nation could do if she was coerced into becoming subservient to the council’s agenda, or if they did away with her to establish their own puppet ruler” Oh, I could think of a few things, and most involved the use of lethal force to achieve its insidious goals.
“Out of mild curiosity, what’s the name of this heir?” I inquired, despite having a faint inkling as to who it might be.
“Her name is Gilda Gryffindor, heiress apparent to the Gryphondrian throne. I do believe that Rainbow Dash used to be on good terms with her not so very long ago” There was a tinge of disappointment in her voice, the kind that you’d hear from someone who had lost their trump card during a particularly high stakes game.
“They knew each other? And had a falling out?” I asked, feigning shock upon hearing that they had a connection. I must have been equally unreadable to Celestia as she was to me, because she made no sign that she suspected my faked ignorance.
“They attended Flight Camps together when they were much younger, striking up a friendship from their initial rivalry. Something which came to be from an exchange student program initiated by myself and Aloysius before his country became completely isolationist to ours” She recounted, lazily waving to a pair of saluting Valkyrian guards patrolling the airspace over the castle.
“Lemme guess, their relationship was orchestrated by you?” I naturally assumed.
“That was a convenient coincidence actually. You mustn’t believe that I stack every deck in my favor, do you Zenith?” She held a hand to her chest in fake hurt.
“No…just most of them” I gently retorted, garnering an amused half lidded gaze from her. A rather sexy one, at that. Discord’s verbal prodding from earlier rejoined my thoughts, and I shook myself out of my odd trance.
“While the matter of Gryphondria’s imminent succession does bear significant relevance, it is not the only thing that concerns me these days” She abruptly spoke up, caught between the habit of withholding information, and the rare chance to confide her fears in someone she mostly trusted. I ignored the fact that she kind of had to, what with me being this prophesized savior and all.
“Really? What else captures your attention?” I asked a little impatiently, as if a potentially hostile nation on the horizon wasn’t worrying enough.
“There are…ripples in the magical leylines that cross-link the whole of the Earth” She answered cryptically, “Something to the southwest of this land is causing such profound disturbances in the fabric of magic, that its tugging at my higher senses has become almost incessant” Kind of like a gut feeling that just won’t go away, I’d imagine.
“Is that bad?”
She frowned, “I do not know for certain. I cannot discern its meaning, and its origins vexingly continue to elude my comprehension like retreating shadows in the advancing light of the Sun” What an fitting comparison she’d draw, given her one primary duty as Princess.
“I’d prepare for the worst and hope for the best, anything that could cause commotion of that magnitude is most likely going to be a problem. What lies to the southwest?” I investigated further, wanting to be on top of everything. Perhaps I could effectuate safe guards to keep this country that much safer. The feathery weight of the pack and its contents strapped to my shoulders began badgering me as I thought of this.
“Vast, untamed, and incredibly unforgiving lands. With the numerous peoples that reside there eking out a harsh and violent lifestyle in large groups of roving war bands led by barbaric Chieftains. From what I’ve been told by travelers who explored and made rudimentary maps of those lands some centuries ago, the larger tribes are fond of pillaging and raiding from weaker nomadic tribes in order to sustain themselves. Spilling much blood in the process to fuel their insatiable lust for conflict” Her features darkened considerably as she related this to me.
Certain words she used roused in me a desire to ask her about Daring and where she was, but something told me that an answer from her would not make me feel any better about what she was doing out there in a dangerous world. So with a heavy heart, I remained silent as she maintained her monologue.
Her visually flawless face contorted in a grimace of distaste, “They are a recidivistic and savage people, one that thrives off of the needless suffering of others. It’s a wonder that their actions haven’t renewed and brought the icy wrath of the Windigos down upon them” There was no love in her voice for these southwesterlings, evidently.
“Off the record, what happened to the Windigos?” I asked offhand. Luna never really answered that for me.
“They dissipated…or died out a long time ago, for they were magical constructs formed of and from the proliferation of hatred. When the world was painstakingly made more peaceful, their only source of sustainment waned until it could no longer perpetuate them”
‘Ah. The old make love, not war approach then eh?’ I snickered to myself, if only all solutions were as simple as that sounded. I wizened up and continued my digging.
“Have they formed a fully fledged nation? Or are they just a collection of bloodthirsty warriors that believe in rule by the strong?” They aren’t as much of a national detriment to others if they’re too busy infighting amongst themselves.
“The latter, which I hope…and I regretfully say this, stays that way. While the notion of a hostile and nationalistic country like Gryphondria makes me shudder. The idea of a unified, strife worshiping society that is keen on spreading death and despair, downright terrifies me” Her eyes reflected her unease, going distant for a few seconds before refocusing on me.
‘The mighty Celestia? Afraid? These malevolent southwesterlings must be a serious threat then’ That clinched it, I was going to see the knowledge that I carried with me bolster the defenses of this country. I had a bad feeling about lay to the southwest, and I refused to let this nation be caught off guard by anything.
“What is the condition of Arcania’s armed forces?” This question needed to be asked if I was to gauge their state of readiness.
“Altogether with the Royal guard and the reserves that comprise the A.S.M.V forces, I can muster a little over fifty thousand men within a week” I tried not to wince at that relatively paltry number.
“And how many people call this nation their home?” I needed to estimate the solider to civilian ratio.
“Six million citizens can claim this as the land of their birth” She answered, seemingly proud of the meager (to me at least) accomplishment.
‘Is she kidding? The county I came from has half as many people!’ And that’s disregarding the San Diego region sitting just below, which would make it just about equal overall.
I did the calculations in my head, coming up with a sum total of one soldier to protect every one hundred and twenty civvies. That’s technically better than the United State’s ratio, but America also reserves the right for its civilians to bear arms for the purposes of their own defense. And I got the feeling that a country consisting mostly of women was going to need all the defensive means it could get.
“Do you think you can double that number without attracting undue attention?” I asked with a slight wince, sixty people for every soldier would be much more manageable to work with.
“Externally? Yes, no one would be able to detect a buildup. Internally? Also yes, thanks in no small part to you” She spoke graciously, throwing me off greatly.
“What do you mean?” I asked with flared nostrils, my distrust of her shadowy mind games acting up a bit.
“Do you recall Blueblood? The one who sought to absorb your title and all of the privileges that came with it? The man you thoroughly humiliated in a duel?” She asked in succession, invoking some admittedly satisfying memories of introducing his face to my fists. I actually had to pull my punches in that duel, lest I made good on my subsequent threat to scatter Blueblood everywhere.
I rolled my eyes, “How could I forget?” As if I needed a legitimate excuse to give his sorry ass a good kicking.
“Do you also remember introducing a strict regimen for his rehabilitation? One that was to be carried out by his servant Noteworthy no less?”
“I sure do, has it been working?” I’d be pissed if it wasn’t, I spent a good deal of time thinking up creative ways of teaching that sorry fool a lesson in good manners.
“Like a charm, I especially endorsed the usage of a rolled up newspaper sprayed with a special sham cologne distilled from Poison Joke to correct him whenever he misbehaved” She held a hand up to her lips to suppress a chortle of amusement, “It has had a most…interesting side effect on him, one that has straightened him out considerably”
I raised the Spock brow, “My curiosity is piqued, what effect did it have on him?”
“It gave him a unique perspective of his own misdeeds whenever he looked in a mirror, which was very often. Being on the receiving end of his own acidic tongue has made him truly understand just how horrific he’s really been. In fact, his first act of repentance was personally demolishing the statue of himself that he commissioned in his quarters” She explained, sounding oddly impressed by her ‘nephew’s’ determination to remake himself.
‘Blueblood had a statue of himself dedicated to himself? That is one of the most narcissistic things I have ever heard’ And that’s saying something, given where I originate.
“And what has he decided to do with himself now?” Color me intrigued, the fool has finally seen reason.
“He has resolved to find ways of making amends with the many many people he has wronged in his life, either in person or by proxy if he had been especially unbearable. He actually requested a personal audience with you for the chance to apologize, if you’re willing to hear him out” She informed me.
“Perhaps some other time, when the livelihood of the world isn’t at stake” I casually dodged the invitation. Still, it’s good to hear that he’s turned over a new leaf.
I brought the conversation back on track, “What does he have to do with internal political matters?”
She gave me a strange stare, “Did you not know? Blueblood is one of five on the intra-governmental parliamentary council”
The Arcanian parliamentary council ruled over everything that the Royal family delegated to them, mostly daily internal affairs stuff that wouldn’t warrant the attention of those who tended to the business of ensuring that the bigger picture would stay idyllic and fanciful.
That’s when it finally clicked in my mind, “He’s the swing vote. That’s the reason why you didn’t flat out forbid the duel even though you knew that everyone would understand and agree. You wanted me to be the one to recondition him to be more sympathetic towards the greater good!” I raised my voice, not happy at knowingly becoming her pawn. It made it even worse that I had predicted an ulterior motive like this in the first place.
She took my outrage in stride, speaking serenely to me, “Such cynicism is unbecoming of you, Zenith. Yes, this plays to my favor immensely. But I was not perfectly assured that you would not simply take Blueblood’s titles, relegating him to nothingness instead of giving him a second chance to become a less selfish person. Stripping him of his mantle would also render his seat on the council defunct, leaving an empty position waiting to be filled”
She interrupted just as I opened my mouth, “And no, I do not make any appointments to the council chairs, they are fairly elected by the populace” I promptly shut my trap and narrowed my eyes. She’s good…real good. But then how the heck did Blueblood get elected to begin with? Probably by having the nobles in his pocket would be my best guess.
“Along those same lines, may I ask why you showed him kindness? Instead of justifiably putting him in his proper place?” She asked out of nowhere. Couldn’t she already see why I did it?
I looked her in the eyes and spoke with conviction, “Partially because I believe in second chances, and partly because I also believe that those least deserving of kindness, sometimes need it the most”
I neglected to mention that my imperfect standards for judging the redemption potential of a person could be severely harsh if they harmed or attempted to harm those I cared about. I have a vindictive spirit, one whose toleration reaches its limits quite rapidly.
“What’s so funny?” I asked the woman, feeling a little insulted at her sudden peal of musical laughter.
She calmed down enough to let me in on what was so humorous to her, “You my dear Zenith! Your hidden wisdom never ceases to amaze me, especially in one so young. It does my immortal heart good to see such prudence like this exercised by those who have not learned the difficult way to be mindful of the future” She beamed at me, “I believe that while Twilight and her friends have a lot to teach you about our ideals of Friendship and Harmony, you have just as much to show them as well”
‘Twilight herself is long overdue for recognizing the difference between wisdom and knowledge’ Could she learn that though? With her stubbornly rigid mindset?
The woman’s revelation to me made me blink, which then led to rumination. Would I be as positive an influence on the Elements as they supposedly would be on me? First reaction immediately screamed in the typical negative, but second opinions began forming in the miasma of swirling doubts and uncertainties. Friendship is a two way street, and I was equally responsible in introducing them to a new perspective as they were to introducing one to me.
I remember telling Twilight on my first night in Magiville that I would give this thing a shot, but was I really? I begrudgingly admitted to myself that my efforts were half hearted at best, and indifferent at worst. What had I just finished telling Rarity just a few days ago? That I realized that it wasn’t about me, and that I had to put other’s people’s needs before my own. And what had I been doing so far? Ignoring my own principles like a big, freakin’ hypocrite. It’s not fair to others if I deprive them of the chance to get to know me better, especially when they show a legitimate interest in doing so. And with the impending upheaval saturating the political atmosphere, I might not have that much more time to give them that chance.
“So you say, Celestia” I tersely said, at a loss for any other words. She just continued to smile, blissfully unaware of just how much soul searching she had inspired in me in those previous moments.
I returned our attention to the most pressing topic, “Okay, so we know that your ground forces have room for expansion in their ranks without drawing too much heat from powerful influences within and without. But what about your naval forces?” Those were the big guns in Arcania’s arsenal, and I meant that quite literally.
“All of our surface fleet vessels are devoted entirely to coastal defense from foreign attacks by sea, but our air fleet is second to none the world over. You’ve traveled to Stratopolis and seen their central anchorage yourself have you not?” I responded with a wordless affirmative, “Then you know why Arcania’s opinions on the world stage are not taken with a grain of salt”
“Don’t you mean your opinions?” I asked with a cheeky grin, eliciting my first ever eye roll from the stern faced monarch.
“Altogether, a little over fifty airworthy ships with military applications can be called upon to enforce the will of the Arcanian people. Of which, half of those craft are the relatively modern floatwood ships of the line, with five flagships to lead them” She had a rich hint of pride in her voice. I’m thinking the Solar Monarch might have a secret fondness for Maritime might.
“Where does Arcania get this wondrous floatwood material?” It’s fascinating stuff, with its ability to stay perfectly buoyant no matter the altitude.
“There is a special grove of them flourishing near the city of Vanclover. Its discovery a little over a century ago was the product of chance, but one that has given this country a significant advantage in projecting its power. Floatwood vessels are sleek, elegantly made, and serve as a powerful reminder to those who would attack us that our response will be swift and devastating in its severity” I never thought I’d ever hear the description of ships that wouldn’t look out of place back in the Georgian era as being sleek, but this world had a weird relationship with technology.
Speaking of which, “What if I told you that I had the knowledge and know how to augment your country’s defenses multiple times beyond your wildest dreams? Securing it from most foreign and domestic threats forever?” In hindsight, I kind of made it sound a bit like making a deal with the Devil. Only I didn’t require contracts signed in blood, or any other vital fluids for that matter.
“I would ask if you were telling me the truth” She regarded me with a critical eye. And Celestia thought me the skeptical one?
“Allow me to test the waters first. Have your people managed to study and replicate the effects of the smoke and stun grenades that I gave you?” I asked. Phase two of Operation Modernize Arcania was close at hand.
“For the most part, the research team that I assigned to study and analyze the components of the smoke grenade accidentally set it off. However, they salvaged the situation and came up with a close analog of it once they saw the device in action. The stun grenade, as you called it, turned out to be a mixture of common chemical ingredients that could be found here in natural abundance, as well as storehouses containing pyrotechnics” That made sense, a Flashbang was essentially like a firecracker on steroids.
“Then I know that your people are capable of reverse engineering” I held up an index, “But how capable are they of following written instructions and deciphering schematics that I’ve drawn up?”
“Competent enough I assure you” She deadpanned, “Where are you going with this?”
I unequipped my pack and set it on the ground before proceeding to reach inside and (after a minute of searching) pull out a fat stack of papers with indelible ink markings all over them (written using the recently mass produced fountain pen no less). On closer inspection, one could see that those curlicues and numbered footnotes detailed several things from my world that I believed could benefit Arcania greatly. Several had uses for civilian life, but the majority was strictly military in their practicality.
My personal favorites among them were the ultra refinement of steel using a special flash heating and cooling tempering process; therefore making it both stronger and lighter for use in armors and other weapons, the replacement of their old style cannonry with rifled barrels to improve range and accuracy (I even drew up deployable winglets to attach to their cannonballs for use in the meantime until they develop a means for making artillery shells, same goes for jacketed hollow point bullets), and the means to make modern engines to show up the primitive ones being showcased in Steelhatten.
I handed the stack to Celestia for her perusing pleasure, who gingerly took them in her hands.
“How did you come by these?” She questioned, her eyes widening more and more as she looked the papers over.
I shrugged, “Internet. I spent last Wednesday evening utilizing my muscle memory spell and a few databanks here and there to meticulously transcribe all the useful information I could find into simple instructions for replication. I made sure to include everything, from the names of the essential materials needed to produce these things, to the mandatory machinery that will take those materials and fashion them into a finished good. The manufacturing processes which require technology that I’m almost certain that this country wouldn’t have can be easily substituted or even supplanted by some other means involving magic” Particularly using those crystals that I’ve seen functioning as mana batteries. Celestia’s face scrunched together upon hearing a term that she was not familiar with, but she didn’t inquire further. I guess she didn’t care so much about the means as she did the end result.
“The amount of information and the ideas presented here are overwhelming Zenith! Just how accomplished are your people?” I could now detect the scholar in her voice going absolutely nuts.
“I think one of our greatest all time achievements was putting a man on our moon, the first heavenly body stepped foot on by humans” And he was American! Take that, falsely communist scum!
“And all without magic…incredible” She muttered to herself, “But many of these designs…are so destructive in nature, these multi-shot firearms? Not even what the Gryphondrians have developed can come close to replicating this!” The Gryphon people have guns? All my doubts about introducing that technology suddenly feel lessened in their potency.
“I know your people have smoothbore cannons. Firearms are just a more compact and rifled version of that” I countered, “And to ease any misgivings you might have about this, you can have your people simply install a mechanism that only recognizes Arcanian soldiers and destroys the inner workings of the weapons should they fall into the wrong hands. That way, our enemies can never use them against us or study their inner mechanisms” Gizmo once told me that enchantments can be keyed towards a person’s unique Mana mark signature. I’m certain a workaround can be made from something like that.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you” It wasn’t a question. I was way too prepared about this.
I shrugged again, “Call me paranoid. But it never hurts to be too geared up. I defer to an old saying; ‘it is better to have and not need, than to need and not have’. And with the way the current world landscape is shaping out to be, you can’t afford not to be ready”
“You make a very compelling argument, Zenith. And were our situation not what it was, I would be most resistant in implementing the bulk of these innovations. However, I won’t risk the safety of my beloved subjects for a selfish peace of mind, so I will call together the premier manufacturing giants from the cities of both Las Valkyras and Steelhatten to begin working towards duplicating and adapting these designs for our own usage. They are our best chance at bringing the manufacturing might of Arcania to bear, so I’ll have to provide some incentives for them to strive towards. I’ll need to pen the dispatches to them first, and even after they see these papers and reconstruct the designs within them, I suspect that it will take time before we start seeing real progress on that front” She explicated at great length. I had assumed that this was her politician side speaking. I wasn’t expecting her to introduce anything right away. This stuff wasn’t as simple as a ballpoint pen to recreate.
“I know I can sleep easier at night knowing that this nation will not be wholly unprepared for the possible rigors of war” I was given the means to look this stuff up, why not put it to use for a just cause?
She exhaled tiredly, “I fear that you may be right. The recent escalating turmoil in the world can be no mere coincidence, it is likely that the final prophecy divined by the Sisters of Fate is drawing ever nearer to its realization” She solemnly stated, running a free hand through the exquisite strands of her brilliant hair, “Make the most of your time with the Elements, Zenith. I may call upon you before long” She strongly encouraged, rather than commanded me.
I fully bowed to her for the first (and likely the last) time, “And I will be there to answer that call when it comes. ‘Pon my sacred honor” I vowed to her. I’d taken a liking to this country, and I wasn’t about to see it threatened by anything.
“Rise my most chivalrous and vigilant Prince” She bid me, which I obliged to see her smiling face. One was on the verge of becoming a grin as she spoke, “You insist that you are no one special, Zenith. Yet the man I see before me contradicts that claim by an order of many magnitudes”
She laid a velvety hand on my cheek, “There is something else I wish to tell y-” Her voice was overshadowed by the sound of a shrill avian screech.
We both looked towards the sky to see an eye opening sight. A large winged creature wreathed in flame soared directly overhead, flying literal circles around disgruntled Valkyrian guards, who did their best to ignore being pestered by the playfully mischievous bird. Celestia shook her head at this sight before calling out.
“Philomena! Cease your harassment at once and get over here young lady!” Even when she wasn’t using the Royal Concordian voice, Celestia’s stentorian voice projected quite a distance.
The fiery Phoenix heard her caretaker’s voice and obeyed, breaking away from the relieved looking guards and coming to perch on the monarch’s outstretched arm. I was worried that the bird, which was still very much on fire, would burn her. But I found solace in the fact that the vermillion flames had no ill effects on her luscious skin.
Philomena was a sight to behold, clad from crest to talons in beautiful fiery red and orange plumage that would appear like it was on fire, had she not actually been alight. She was roughly as big as a young California Condor both in size and wingspan, although much easier on the eyes.
Celestia giggled as her pet greeted her with a short croon and nuzzled against her cheek before looking at me with her blazing yellow eyes and vocalizing what sounded like a dismissive remark in response to my presence.
“Now now Philomena, that’s no way to treat a friend of ours” She softly reprimanded the bird, “Zenith here is just as worthy of your affections as I am. I think you owe him an apology” The bird let out a sigh and warbled what sounded like a muffled expression of regret.
“S’cool” I remarked back to the creature of legend, before Celestia pivoted her arm towards me.
“Would you like to hold her? I promise she won’t peck…much” She simpered, and I brought my arm against hers.
Philomena took the cue and transferred perches with a hop. She was much lighter than she looked, only about as much as a Cockatoo would if I had lacked my augmented strength. I just passed it off as due to the hollowed bones that most birds of flight shared and left it at that. It was endlessly fascinating to me that despite the active flames the creature was radiating, she gave off no more heat than a cup of coffee that had been sitting on the table for fifteen minutes. Philomena seemed even more interested in me than I was in her, shifting her flexible neck and examining me from all angles as though searching for a flaw to vindicate her earlier opinion of me.
When she completed whatever assessment she was running on me, she cawed happily and began to nuzzle against me in a symbol of acceptance. In return I began scratching under her neck, receiving a positive trill of appreciation from the perky Phoenix.
“Magnificent, isn’t she? Philomena here has been my close companion for many centuries now” Celestia commented from the sidelines, watching in delighted amusement as we connected.
“She’s something alright” I agreed, watching the aforementioned fire-fowl ruffle her feathers before preening them.
“She can be a handful sometimes too, having picked up many of my quirks in that time. But her close company has been something I’ve constantly relished as time has gone by. Have you ever had a pet?”
I nodded, “Long ago, when I was much younger” I replied, as the Phoenix suddenly flapped her wings and switched from my forearm to my right shoulder.
“Have you given thought to taking care of another one? I hear Fluttershy has plenty of creatures that could use a good home and a loving master” Not her too, why was ownership of a pet such a big deal here?
“I haven’t met a creature that really clicked with me, so I’ve held off on it for now” I answered truthfully. Though the bald Eagle came close, and not for the reasons you’d think.
Philomena produced something hidden beneath the thick feathers in her breast and tapped it against my head, prompting me to reach up and take it from her beak before scrutinizing it. It was a short beaked masquerade mask that reminded me of a Falcon, having intricate and lacy golden decorations adorning it.
My brow furrowed in curiosity, “What’s this for?”
“Every Friday afternoon, we host a Masquerade ball at the palace. Of which, I hear that you are the debutant who was selected to be the man of honor” She explained with tittering undertones. She must have found it real comical for me to be receiving all of this attention, knowing how little I cared for the spot light.
“Okay” I neutrally responded, “Thanks Philomena, that saves me a trip to the local department store” She cawed graciously at my showing of gratitude.
“Wasn’t there something else you wanted to say to me?” I directed to Celestia, who just smiled and shook her head.
“It can wait, Zenith. Although I do believe Luna wished to speak with you after I’d finished talking with you first” She compiled the papers together in her hands with a shuffling motion, “I’ll be in my quarters getting started on that paperwork. Come along Philomena” The Phoenix left my shoulder and lazily floated over to her caretaker’s while the latter made her way to her ivory tower.
I returned my gaze to the mask in my hands for a lingering moment before stuffing it into my pack and spreading my wings, stepping onto the ledge and swan diving off of it. I pulled up a few meters off the ground and adjusted my course to Luna’s sanctum, landing without a sound on the balcony and knocking on the blackened doors leading inside. When I received no response barring my entrance, I twisted at the unlocked knob and opened it.
Even though the Sun was shining brightly down on Luna’s tower, no light managed penetrate the darkness. I mentally shrugged to myself and made headway into the inky blackness that seemed to swallow everything up. Not five steps into Luna’s room, the glass doors slammed shut behind me and I was completely enshrouded in the pitch-black nothingness. I would have taking a fright to the suddenness of it all, if I hadn’t already been versed in every Hollywood horror cliché known to man.
“Art thou afraid?” A ghostly voice whispered to me from all directions.
I wasn’t having any of it, “I’m afraid that I’m going to march right back out the door if you don’t exit the shadows and talk to me like a normal Princess should” I chided her, pointing with a thumb over my shoulder and scowling at her childish antics.
“And how would you accomplish this? It would appear as though your means for escape has vanished” I looked back and true to her word, the doors were no longer there.
I reached out with my magical senses and was assaulted by a wave of information. The swift deluge of the incoming data flow was almost painful to decode, but I found out that the doors were being moved all around the room…no, I was being moved about the room in a random pattern. One that made it close to impossible to make good on my promise to leave if Luna didn’t stop her shenanigans right now.
The Princess’ inexplicable impishness was starting to get on my nerves though, so I built up a magical current around my body and supercharged it with enough energy to emit a flare of light strong enough to banish the encapsulating cloud of shadows.
Luna yelped in surprise as her cover evaporated and the intense effulgence overloaded the photoreceptors in her eyes. She felt back onto her bed and began rubbing at her eyes until it began to wear off. She was wearing that practical long sleeved uniform that made her look kind of like an Imperial officer.
She sat up and crossed her arms together, “That was hardly fair” She had an adorable expression gracing her features as she pouted, “That aside, what brings you to our quarters?”
“Your big sis sent me, she said you wanted to speak with me” I answered simply.
“We know” She said, using that quaint nosism that she couldn’t seem to shake, “We were simply making this small talk as today’s folk refer to casual pleasantry. We are already aware that we told none of our desire to speak with you save for our sister"
“So…” I drawled, dismissing her strangeness, “I’m here. What did you want to talk about?”
She clapped her hands together at the question, “We are so glad thou asked Zenith! We wish to present something to you”
I feigned being flustered and held the flat of my hand to my chest, “For me? You shouldn’t have”
“We should, and we will” She insisted, clearly missing the point, “But we ask that you close your eyes and keep them shut before we proffer it to you”
‘I’m going to freak out if she does what every guy assumes she would’
I acquiesced anyway, “Very well”
My eyeball curtains sank lower until all was dark once more. I could hear Luna rummaging through something before vocalizing an excited, if not suppressed squeal of delight. I felt her gently grasp my right hand in hers before she placed something with a leathery grip in the center of my palm.
“You may open your eyes now, Zenith” She said with an anticipative tone.
I did as she said and was met with her optimistic face, I looked down to the object I held and discovered that it was a well made sword hilt that was lacking a blade.
“What dost thou think?” She asked, slipping back into her charming olde world tongue, “We made it with thou in mind”
“It’s a very nice hilt. I assume that it was made for my Mage-blade in mind too?” She nodded with passionate fervor in reply.
“We had been doing some thinking and we realized that we were being too hasty when we told you that a hilt for your Mage-blade was unnecessary. There are many advantages to wielding a weapon using your own two hands, as well as a certain feeling of satisfaction in personally carving your way to victory. In addition, your hilt comes with auxiliary functions”
“Such as?” I asked, after a moment’s pause.
“We were getting to that!” She sniffed, “It serves as your badge of office and symbol of your authority, and it can also be split into two halves so that it lives up to thy weapon’s name!” She seemed most pleased with her inventiveness.
‘Dual wielding action eh? Me likey’
“Stupendous!” I jovially spouted, “May I test it out?”
Her smile evolved into a Cheshire level grin, “We were hoping that thou would ask that”
Her moonstone focal gem lit up and I was subjected to the feeling of going everywhere and nowhere all at once. When my instant disorientation wore off, we found ourselves in the castle’s open aired training grounds. The same platform where I schooled Blueblood in the ways of pain was not a half minute’s pace in walking distance. The guards who were currently conducting drilling exercises at the time, hardly batted an eye at our flashy arrival. I personally found that to be a little irresponsible, what if we had been a hostile force that ported in? Maybe they had safeguards in place for that, but I had no way of knowing with certainty.
My guts churned in protest, “I hate it when you do that”
She had the grace to look mildly ashamed, “We apologize, we forget that thou require advanced warning before we cast the blink spell”
“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like I had a big breakfast anyway” I said as I waved a forgiving hand, “Why’d you bring me here? Why not the old training room where you first taught me?”
“Getting comfortable with your newfound blade is going to take more space than that room could provide, so naturally we brought you here” She explained, walking towards the direction of the stage with myself in pursuit.
“Truly? What are you going to have me doing?” I said incredulously, I just wanted to see what my fully formed sword would look like as dual blades!
“You recall from our first session together that we had put you through a trial by fire, yes? We aim to replicate the same condition here…only, we shall be your sole opponent” Her predatory smile even from this angle could chill a lesser man down to his bone marrow, but I held firm.
“Fine. I accept your challenge, oh Mistress of the Night” I said in jest, giving her the mobile version of the Sith salutation. We reached the center of the dueling platform and faced off against each other with both of us standing on opposite ends. This action attracted the interest of some of the guards, who were not busy at the moment and began chatting amongst themselves and throwing glances at us.
Luna’s face became deadly serious, a complete turn around from her previous attitude, “We look forward to this upcoming duel, Zenith. Pray you do not disappoint us” She drew Blue Moon from her scabbard and leveled it at me, the bluish light from the magic holding the blade together coursing through the flat of the blade like a living pulse.
“Aren’t you going to tell me how to fuse my shard fragments to the hilt? You didn’t include an instruction manual with this thing you know” I’d rather not get my ass handed to me right away, thank you very much.
“You and your blade are one. Outside instructions are meaningless” She responded enigmatically, much to my chagrin.
I took off my pack and pulled out the sack containing the rest of Dichotomy before levitating the bag off to the side where it wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire that was sure to come. I inhaled deeply before permitting the strands of magic that inherently connected me to my Mage-blade to connect us once again. Fifteen crimson illumed metallic fragments levitated out of the discarded sack and spiraled around me in a gentle vortex of ridiculously sharp Arcanium. I took the hilt of my blade in both hands and willed my shards to assemble one by one until I held a fully realized sword in my grasp for the first time. It was uncanny how solid the blade felt in my hands once it was completely conjoined and affixed to the hilt, freeing up my magical faculties and lessening my tactical burden. There was still some room left in the hilt’s aperture, which I made note of for later.
I could hear Luna snort in a mixture of impatience and disapproval to my excessive showmanship. She had no right to complain though, she essentially told me to figure it out myself. But how would I dual wield?
I had no further time to ponder this as Luna rushed forward faster than I could blink, closing the gap between us in less than a second and immediately forcing me on the defensive as I held my sword sideways to block a heavy handed overhead swing from the Princess. Luna clearly wasn’t holding back, I felt the full brunt of that even though I was braced with my Trifect strength! I stifled a grunt as I recoiled from the unexpectedly brutal blow.
The extremely ferocious woman seemed to favor slow but heavy strikes that gave me little choice but to backpedal away in order to avoid getting pinched inside her increasingly aggressive hacks. I spotted a small opening between the withdrawal of her blade that I used to shove her backwards with my right arm and ‘break the combo’, so to speak. I pressed my own offensive and began a flurry of quick but precise jabs that now put her on the defensive.
I was glad that my muscle memory spell had naturally began to imprint proper sword technique and foot placement, I’m pretty sure that it made me a dozen times better than when I first started out. Luna parried all of my attacks expertly and started to turn the tides back on me as she switched to similarly quick lighting swipes with an occasional stab, one of them I only managed to block right in the gist of time by shambolically reverse gripping my blade and sweeping to the side with a parry.
We both lunged at each other after a few minutes of this and crossed our blades together in a fierce lock, one that I had the advantage in thanks to my superior height allowing gravity to be my ally as I bore down against the moon monarch. She realized the futile tenability of her position and utilized all of her strength to push the both of us backwards with a jerk.
I slid to a halt and held Dichotomy in a Ko Gasumi no Kamae sword stance that was reminiscent of the ancient samurai. It didn’t serve a real purpose beyond making me look like a badass, and the mounting number of armor clad guards who were cheering from the sidelines were clearly voicing their approval of this.
Luna was actually breathing somewhat stiffly as she spoke, “We art most pleased that thou art prepared for the rigors of combat. But we long to see just how prepared thou really are!”
She fractured Blue Moon apart and sent a hail of razor sharp pieces hurling towards me. My eyes widened and I willed Dichotomy to do the same, just narrowly intercepting her deadly projectiles in mid flight and stopping Luna from doing to me what I did to the Alpha Timberwolf in the Neverfree. For extra assistance, I utilized True Sight to highlight Luna’s blade fragments to make deflecting them an easier task. Interestingly enough, Luna’s blade was only thirteen shards in total, which meant that I had an extra two free shards of my own to pressure her with.
I sent the smallest and fastest towards her and she shrieked in surprise, calling up her magic and wrestling with the magic holding mine. It felt like a stalemate, so I craftily and assiduously manipulated the air currents around us using my innate Valkyrian magic (summoning my wings in the process) to forcibly scatter her blade fragments whilst recalling my own to regroup and reform. I beat my wings once for an extra burst of speed and dashed forwards before she could recover, with the aim of whacking her with the flat of my blade and securing a victory.
Luna was faster than I gave her credit for though, and reassembled Blue Moon just as I swung downwards. Blocking my strike (which landed awkwardly due to its flatness), she seized the opportunity to sweep my feet out from under me with a sliding kick before lifting her sword high in the air and stabbing it into the ground. In a slight panic, I punched her in the shin to disrupt the precise angle of her deadly motion and rolled to the side, getting an uncomfortably close view of the edge of her blade dipping into the floorboard not three inches away from my head like it wasn’t even there.
I rose to my feet and panted from the exertion that this fight was taking its toll on me from. To my relief, Luna herself was also weary and didn’t, or couldn’t capitalize on my briefest moment of vulnerability. We both inhaled deep lungful’s of oxygen before she spoke again.
“Excellent, but we would to like to assess one last thing” She pointed to one of the closest guards who was watching the match unfold in rapt attention, “Soldier!” He snapped to attention, “Give us thy sword, now”
“Right away your highness!” He removed his simplistic Xiphos style sword from his sheath and tossed it to his Princess, who deftly caught it with her free hand.
“Is this the part where you politely bother to tell me how to split the hilt in two?” I asked without even the smallest bit of hope in my tone. Plenty of sarcasm though.
“By doing so” She answered curtly, charging forward with both blades pointed towards my torso area.
I didn’t even have time to groan before I had to block twice the number of sword swings coming my way. It’s a wonder that we were both unscathed by this whole ordeal, with only a few scuffs here and there. But if this kept up, soon one of us with have red ribbons of pain lining their skin. I surrendered myself to that tranquil state of mind in the eye of the storm and began meditating on ways I could enact dual wielding. The hilt of the sword was seamless as far as I could tell, so there was no real way I could break it apart in order to have two single edged blades I would need to withstand her attacks.
But then it gradually became clearer to me as I delved deeper into my psyche. I had named my weapon Dichotomy for a reason, and it wasn’t on a whim. I subconsciously knew that this sword would be the means to cater to my dual nature, and no puns could detract from that. It would be the physical manifestation of my twin imperatives. I wanted to laugh to myself at the sudden clarity of it all.
Dichotomy represented both my immense dedication to defend…and my equally powerful determination to destroy.
I wasn’t even aware that I had already accomplished my goal until I saw the ease with which I was now parrying and even countering the cumbersome swings and slashes Luna was doing her best to mark me with. In my right hand was a jet black simulacrum of the original grey hilt and complete blade, and in my left was another copy in that of the purest white. I wielded them with a mastery I didn’t even know I had, dexterously reverse gripping the left sword and normal gripping the right as I stopped another attempt by Luna’s twin swords to tag me dead in their pincer arc. Something about brandishing these feather light armaments just came naturally to me.
I planted my foot against her stomach and Spartan kicked her backwards with such force that she inverted in midair and had to correct herself into a flip that she landed sloppily. I pushed the offensive one last time and struck with a fast and furious series of slashes and hacks that I was tempted to name ‘Starburst Stream’, after a move from an anime that I was quite fond of.
Luna fought back valiantly, holding me off for all of thirty seconds before I slapped the Xiphos out of her left hand using a double heavy handed diagonal smash from both blades. Pushing her back even farther as she was made to rely on Blue Moon for protection. I was confident enough at this point that I made Dichotomy whole again, metaphysically joining the blades together into one body. Albeit I made a slight alteration that Luna wouldn’t notice in her frazzled state of mind.
My opportunity to end this duel was found when she attempted a vertical swing overhead in a vain attempt to catch me off guard while I momentarily ceased my assault to make my blade one. It was harder to resist the urge to grin triumphantly than it was to seize Luna’s Mage-blade between the inlet in the flat of my sword that I created by using the spare leeway in the hilt to separate the blade shards. I wrenched her weapon out of her grip with a forceful twist before I flicked out my left hidden blade and pressed it against the tantalizingly soft flesh of her neck, with Dichotomy hovering against her backside for an added touch of finality.
“Yield” I all but hissed to her. The Princess’ eyes were the size of dinner plates, either from being defeated at my hands or by our intimately close proximity. All I would have to do is just lean forward an inch and…
The roaring sound of applause complemented by raucous cheering filled my ears, causing me to take my surroundings into account. There were a great many more people than I originally remembered watching our sparring match. In fact, I’d dare say that there were twice as many people watching this now than there were for the match between Blueblood and myself. Then again, that was probably due to how this match wasn’t nearly as one sided. How often do people working here get to see one of their age old monarchs participate in such a fast paced duel?
“That was a privilege to witness, my lieges. You two were exchanging blows so quickly that we couldn’t even keep up!” One guard extolled us vehemently, with the others murmuring their concurrence. A good amount were even swapping bits between themselves as to who would be the victor, and from the look of things, my victory was a major upset.
Luna was freed from her shock after hearing the man speak, “W-well done, Zenith. You have performed beyond even our wildest expectations. We concede the match to you, for it was cunningly fought” She accepted her defeat in good grace. Going so far as to bow her head to me as I receded from her, my hidden blade making its iconic ‘shuerk!’ sound as it retreated back into the mechanism.
“To you as well, I was almost certain that you had me bested several times during that duel” I inclined my head to her in turn. I was never really the gloating type, teasing those who were asking for it notwithstanding.
“Where did you find the time to so markedly improve?” She asked me, looking around for her displaced Mage-blade.
“I’ve been practicing almost religiously. I made good use of the shadow opponent spell that you taught me whenever I had free time over the duration of my toiling at Sweet Apple Acres” I replied, and she hummed to herself in reflective cogitation.
It was one of my favorite spells to cast to be honest. There was a certain thrill in the tumultuous pandemonium of a good fight that was great for staving off boredom. It also made me a better fighter too, so there was that.
Luna spotted and retrieved her blade with a levitation spell before flourishing it in her formal salute to me and sheathing it. The action triggering that raspy sound of metal gliding against scabbard that I suddenly found myself envious of. I didn’t actually need one of my own thanks to Rarity’s creative drive to sew individual pockets for my blade shards into my robes, but it was just something that always tickled my fancy for as long as I can remember.
I broke Dichotomy down into its singular components and neatly stacked them together in the millennium old sack that I found them with, before grabbing my pack that was sitting on the sidelines, cramming the hilt inside, and egressing from the training grounds. If it wasn’t for the cool autumn air, I’m pretty sure I’d be sweltering in my thick frock coat from the vigorous strain of exercise I had endured with Luna.
Oddly enough, Luna tagged along, “Where art thou going?” She asked, a great deal more esteem for me in her voice than there was before.
I trudged onwards, not sparing her more than an acknowledging glance, “It’s past midday, and I’m expected at the Hall of Recreation for some stuffy event that I really don’t want to go to”
“But if going to this event would displease you, then why would you do so?” Lord bless Luna, she can be a Warrior Princess one moment and so naively innocent the next.
“I’m not doing this for myself, and I’m certainly not doing it for the nobles. I’m going because Rarity expects me to be there, so this is more for her sake than mine” I explained carefully to her.
“Rarity…” Luna said, testing the name on her lips, “Is she the same Rarity who embodies the Virtue of Generosity?”
“The one and only” I confirmed, and resumed walking in silence.
Luna seemed a bit miffed at my abrupt quietness, “If you do not care for our company anymore, then we will leave you be” She sniffed, and I realized my unintentional mistake.
“I meant no offense Luna! I was just…thinking, is all” I said truthfully.
“About?” She raised a brow at me as she awaited my response. Damn her nosiness!
“I’m thinking about whether or not I should give her a chance to get to know the real me, instead of snubbing her like I’ve been doing with practically everybody I’ve ever met in my life” I relented, my shoulders sagging as my pent up agitation was released at the admission.
“Are you saying that there is more to the person we see now than what was revealed to us?” She stared at me with those piercingly cold eyes.
I scratched at the back of my head, “A bit…yeah”
After a short time spent staring at me she spoke, “I would advise going through with it. And mayhap…give us the same chance while you are at it”
“I’ll be sure to factor your opinion into my consideration then” I said with a short chuckle, one which Luna couldn’t share in all her seriousness.
“I suppose we should retire back to our tower in preparation for the night court’s proceedings” She said with an upward sigh before turning to me, “Once again I congratulate you on besting us in the ring of honor, Zenith. That is not a feat many can make claim to” After seeing for myself how capable she was, I could definitely attest to that.
“I’m sure that you’d mop the floor with me more often than not, Luna” I brushed off her praise. I felt that disarming the Princess the way I did was too underhanded of me to be complimented by her.
“Nonsense!” She denied me my humility, “We know that thou art most able in the thick of it. We may even have just found a worthy sparring partner” Man, she was just showering the accolades on me wasn’t she?
“If you say so. Might I trouble you to point out where the Recreational Hall is?” Even after living here for a decent period of time, I still had trouble finding my way around sometimes.
“The ballroom is located in the west wing of the palace. Just follow the sounds of joyful merriment to their source” She directed me with a raised index finger, “We trust that you have a mask? It is considered bad form to show up at a Masquerade without one” She said with an almost imperceptible grin.
“Thanks to plucky Philomena, I do have one such mask to wear” Such a considerate Phoenix she is.
I snapped my fingers as something sprang to the forefront of my mind, “I very nearly forgot! I still have your book from when I explored the ruins of your old castle!” I reached into my pack and took it out along with my mask, handing the former to the lady of the night.
She held it reverently, running a hand along the faded cover, “We have not seen this in a very long time. We now know what our future reading material for tonight will be!” She cheerfully exclaimed before she hugged me unexpectedly, something I returned without hesitation.
“Fare thee well Zenith, we shall continue to stay in touch through the veil of dreams” She bid me goodbye as her moonstone focal gem flashed and instantly carried her away in an eddy of magic. Kind of a waste of mana, but it beat taking the stairs any day.
Left to my own devices, I made towards the western end of the castle grounds. I had to cut through the statue garden to save on time, and in doing so I saw all kinds of strange and fantastical beings locked in various dynamic poses. A darker part of my mind wondered if any of them had actually been alive at some point and not petrified, but I purged it from my thoughts, knowing that the line of curiosity that kind of thinking inspires would only come back to bite me if I wasn’t cautious. Besides, anybody who pissed off the Princesses enough to warrant being reduced to a lawn ornament was probably asking for it.
As I drew closer to the hall leading to the Royal ballroom, I could hear much trumpeting and percussion from fanfare suffusing the air. The tune sounded queerly familiar, yet I couldn’t place my finger on it for the life of me. Guests dressed in a wide array of exotic costumes and or ball gowns were lined up outside and began to cheer as the doors were opened by the palace staff, each of whom were wearing two toned black and white full faced masks that set them apart from the partygoers. The variety and quality of the masks I saw in the crowd were downright dizzying, ranging from animal masks all the way to jewel encrusted ones with golden filigrees that must have cost a small fortune to make.
I saw Rarity arrive not soon afterwards dressed in a lavishly purple Charmeuse gown that gleamed as the expensive looking fabrics reflected the light. Next to her were Fleur de lis and Blissful Bounty, who were also extravagantly clothed and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Try as I might, I couldn’t find Fancypants anywhere in their little trio, so I assumed that he chose to forgo attending this function for reasons unknown to me. Rarity’s choice of mask appeared to be that of a feathery Swan’s, while Fleur and Bounty chose generic ones propped up on a stick.
I equipped my Falcon mask and donned it, becoming wholly anonymous to everybody save for my ‘date’. I sauntered closer to them and noted the look of the recognition flash in Rarity’s eyes as she beheld my figure and connected the dots. She opened her mouth to speak but I held an index finger to my lips, urging her to keep my identity a secret from any prying ears. I held my hand out invitingly to her and she happily acquiesced, speaking a few clipped words of parting to both Fleur and Bounty as the two intrigued women struggled to discern who I was without any kind of facial cues to work with.
‘How shallow of them that they’d only attach a name to a face first’ One other reason why I preferred living near Magiville than the city.
I led her away from them as the rest of the crowd began diffusing into the glass-paneled hall that kept up the theme of overlooking the valley, as well as some of the city itself. Everyone must have been incredibly excited, because they all started singing in unison as they filed into the massive Recreational Hall. I had the most confusing hankering to join my voice in with theirs, but adamantly kept my trap shut since I didn’t do musicals. I handed my pack to a palace servant for safekeeping. I wasn’t going to be doing any dancing lugging that thing around!
“What a splendid party,” I remarked aloud, hooking Rarity’s arm in mine.
“A prelude to a bright new year,” She agreed, waving to those who recognized her.
“Quite a sight, I’m impressed,” I grabbed a wine glass from a passing serving tray being carried by an attendant.
“Well, they do their best,” The seamstress said as she copied me.
We rose our glasses high, “Here’s to us!” We harmonized, clinking our glasses together and savoring the bizarrely bittersweet flavor of the champagne.
“You’re the toast of all the city,” She observed with a smile.
“What a pity that the others can’t be here!” I bemoaned with a shake of my head.
We made our way up the half spiral red carpeted stairs to the mezzanine as the people below launched into a chorus of sorts. Everybody was dancing jubilantly in an organized cross cutting pattern that could make some Broadway actors envious with their unpracticed yet impeccable coordination. We reached the top of the stairs where we commanded a splendid view of everything happening on the main floor.
“Think of it, a Princely arrangement, with me as your future bride~” She said in a singsong voice, joining me in watching all the marvelous activity that embodied much of what she aspired to attain in life.
She turned to me, “Why is it secret? What have you to hide?” Her voice wasn’t accusatory, but it verged on dangerous territory.
“Rarity, please don’t, not with this” I objected, taking another swig of my drink despite the fact that my Trifect metabolism wouldn’t let me get drunk anyway.
“You promised me” She reminded me, chastising me for my usual denigration.
“Zenith, what are you afraid of~?” Her melodic voice was irresistible at this point, compelling me to answer in kind.
“Let’s not argue~” I said as I set my glass aside and took her hands in mine.
“Let’s not argue~” She parroted with a forbearing expression.
“Please pretend that~…” I began,
“I can only hope~…” She followed closely,
“…you will understand~…”
“…I’ll understand~…”
“In time!” We chorused, and the people beneath our feet commenced with the grandest refrain yet. Some were twirling handheld paper fans in artistic displays of elation. Other spirited guests were doing all kinds of exaggerated motions that felt befitting in spite of their flamboyancy.
I wasn’t much for ballroom dancing, but the hybrid style waltz and allemande that I improvised by ear gave Rarity no trouble as I led her around the other couples that had joined us on the mezzanine. I loss track of time shortly thereafter, but by the stage that Rarity and I had to cease dancing in order to take a water break, the sun was beginning to set, notifying us that it was evening. I saw an open aired balcony that nobody else was making use of and rectified that, standing close to the banister rails and enhancing my perspective of the land. It was stunningly beautiful with the way it was being bathed in the subdued orange and pinkish light. It also had the side effect of making me hungry for a Cadence colored sorbet. I inhaled a deep breath and let it out into the frosty air, which was only growing colder with each passing hour. I watched it formulate into a wispy cloud that dispersed a couple seconds after being born.
The sound of heels clacking against the smooth stone surface of the balcony alerted me that I was no longer alone.
“Ready to get back to sweeping me up in your arms, my dashingly handsome darling?” I heard Rarity’s voice ask me.
“Quit it Discord, I know that it’s you” I replied without bothering to turn around.
“Spoiling my fun in no time flat! You belong with the Arcanian Royalty all right. How’d you know that it was me? You have eyes in the back of your head or something? I swear that it wouldn’t be me responsible for them!” He continued to speak in an inexplicable feminine voice, one that was almost nails on chalkboard rickety compared to his normal voice.
“You give off an ever changing aura that I can reliably detect” I answered without skipping a beat, “Today it feels like electrified pork rinds that were smothered in cheese wiz…and have also been set on fire” I loathed being around Discord, even when he’s not annoying me directly, he’s still bugging me with his very presence.
“Plus, Rarity doesn’t overdo her words to quite such a degree” I added as an afterthought.
He sucked in air through his teeth, “I thought that might have been the case. I don’t know, she never interested myself adequately for me to pay attention long enough to copy her repertoire of fashionista drama”
“Why you want to? Rarity is dramatic enough to cover all three of us!” I said with a joking scoff. I could be quite the melodramatic diva myself at times, though not nearly as expressive.
“True, very true. Ah, well” I could hear the shrug in his girly voice.
“What brings you by? I’m not much more interesting to be honest” I turned as I asked hi-…er, her.
Discord, or I suppose Femcord now, wasn’t dressed in her usual wacky mismatched business suit outfit. Now it was closer to a corporate secretary mixed with the sexy sorceress look…with a very generous amount of cleavage extending out from her lacy brassiere to boot. I may have stared a few seconds longer than was appropriate, especially considering that this was still technically a guy I was talking to. But she wasn’t calling me out on it, so I assumed that she didn’t care enough to raise a big fuss. Her voice was still irritating as all hell, but damn was she a looker.
‘Actually, the same can be said for a lot of women’
“Like what you see?” Femcord coyly asked of me, curling a finger around a jeweled choker while wearing a shit-eating grin on her face.
‘Yes’ I’d never let her have the pleasure of knowing that though.
“It disturbs me to no end that you can switch genders like that so convincingly” I sidestepped the question.
“Which would you rather see me as? Discord or Eris?” Boo! My name for her is leagues ahead in superiority.
“Whichever you want, it won’t change the fact that you’ll spoil my good mood considerably” I griped miserably.
“Tch tch tch, you shouldn’t flub what the female perspective has to offer. I could make the same changes for you…if you’re curious” She smiled toothily at me, that freakin’ snaggletooth was still present in her current form.
“If you so much as think about rule sixty three’ing me, I’ll kill you so hard that you’ll die to death” I seethed, gritting my teeth together so hard that I was afraid for a moment that I might crack the enamel.
“Eh. Don’t say I didn’t present to you the opportunity of a lifetime” She shrugged apathetically, my very sincere threat not registering with her.
“Woe is me…I won’t find out what it’s like to call myself Zion and have to deal with the instant period you’d likely inflict me with. Big deal” I sneered at her.
“Believe me, I would never be cruel enough to stoop that low. But all joking aside, I am not here to casually chat with you” Her tone dropped it jocularity, catching me off guard.
‘Discord being serious for a change?’ What was this world coming to?
“Then why are you here?” I repeated my earlier question.
“To enforce what Celestia has already warned you of, only I want to hammer the point home. Dark forces loom on the horizon, like a predator just itching for the perfect opportunity to pounce on its prey. Countless ominous portents scintillate like the flickering of a candle flame in my future sight, but all of them have one thing in common” She broke eye contact to gaze at the Sunset, a strange glimmer of coherent emotion flashing through her eyes for less than a millisecond.
“And what theme was that?”
She met my eyes with her slitted ones, “Death. No matter what you do, no matter how prepared you think you might be, death is steadily approaching this land…and the entire world will burn with its coming” She related to me, using the second most foreboding voice I’ve heard up to that point.
“That’s sure encouraging. Are you trying to tell me that this is all hopeless or something? Cause I’m a fighter till the end, regardless of the outcome” I would prefer triumphing over this dark threat, however.
“I’m asking you to do the opposite. Violent death is the worst kind of Chaos, sure it’s delectable at first, but that would be like swallowing your chocolate milk whole instead of savoring it with tiny sustainable sips” She shook her head, and I swore I heard the ringing of a cowbell, “My point is, if the world is to persevere through this inevitable calamity. It needs to stand united. Arcania alone just won’t cut it”
‘Hell yeah! Democracy for all!’ Oops, my patriotic side was showing again. Oligarchy, oligarchy!
She spun me a yarn from her past, “You wanna know something funny? If the peoples of this land simply banded together to stop my supposed ‘Chaotic Tyranny’ instead of shifting the blame amongst each other and bickering, there wouldn’t even be any Princesses today” She emphasized with her detachable quote fingers, “All they had to do was pool their magic together to overcome my own, no Elements of Harmonious Virtues required, just a little bit of teamwork and a good ol’ fashioned supercharged petrifaction spell” She spoke like someone who was the only competent person in a room full of ignorant and petulant snot nosed toddlers.
“You make it seem as if you wanted to be defeated” I esoterically commented.
“Of course I did! Do you have any idea how boring it is to win every single time? A few losses every now and again never hurt an embodiment of chaos, in fact, it even justifies my station!” She said proudly, thumping a fist against her chest and making her mammoth mammaries jiggle from the impact.
“My skills at diplomacy kind of suck, so I might need a few pointers on just how to unify the factions of the world” I couldn’t lie with a smile on my face if my life depended on it, but only because I had to smile in order to pull it off.
She laughed, and it wasn’t as ugly a sound as I’d thought it’d be, “That’s what myself and the other immortals are for, Zenith. You let us do the talking and you can be the poster boy that everyone wants to rally behind”
“Poster boy?” I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.
“You haven’t been tainted by the ravages of time, my dear lad. Your rap sheet is so clean compared to ours that I could use it to wipe down every used lavatory in this city and it would still be squeaky!” What a colorful, if not disgusting analogy.
I fake gasped, “Even Cadence!? But she’s such a sweet woman!”
She chuckled hoarsely, “If you knew the things I know about that rambunctious girl, you wouldn’t be so quick to say that”
“My point still stands. You’re free to determine what kind of Prince you’ll be to the world. Will you be the charming and well spoken type? Or the more strategy oriented one? The possibilities for you to make your mark are endless. Believe me, I would know” I couldn’t disagree with that logic, even if Femcord was the one communicating it.
“That’s for me to find out I guess. But I promise you this, I won’t stand idly by and watch this wonderful world I now reside in be destroyed, not if there’s anything I can do about it” I pledged to the Chaotic Bureaucrat.
Her smile was far more genuine this time, “I know you won’t, Zenith. That’s one of the reasons why they chose you”
“What was that?” I furrowed my brow at her.
She clapped a hand to her lips, “Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Whoopsie! Gotta split, glad we have an understanding!” She made like paper and tore herself into tatters, before each of the pieces folded in on themselves until I could no longer see them. I certainly wasn’t going to try that method of teleportation any time soon.
Femcord had one last card to play though, as a large bag of bits containing all centuplicate pieces fell in front of my face out of nowhere, with only my hair trigger reflexes preventing their scattering across the balcony floor. I grunted in disbelief, was she trying to buy my silence now? Whatever, it saved me from having to ask either of the Princesses for a handout to fund my nearly destitute ass.
But what exactly did she mean by they? The power that brought me here takes form in a plurality? Could they possibly have the power to send me back once this is all over?
Rarity’s voice shook me out of my musings, “Zenith? What are you doing out here all by yourself?” She looked concerned for me. I had been glaring a hole in the floor for a full minute now.
“I’m fine Rarity, just thinking. I’m ready to rejoin you now” I straightened my posture and grabbed her by the arm and paraded us back down to the ballroom floor, ignoring the fact that she looked unconvinced by my words.
The fervor from earlier had died down at this point, with a few people still dancing together on the main floor, but most were sitting to the sides and dining on Hors d'oeuvres as they enjoyed each other’s company and cracked anecdotal jokes that I could only partly hear in passing. This suited my purposes, the less people for us to bump into or hear the impending conversation I needed to have with Rarity, the better.
I held up my right arm with my palm facing perpendicular of me, Rarity recognized what I was doing and copied the motion, touching hands with mine. We began circling each other with our limbs locked firmly in place, switching up every so often to keep things fresh.
“Are you going to explain to me why you tried feeding me a Love Potion back at Nigel’s?” I was going for a blunt confrontational approach, since I was in no mood for beating around the bush.
She recoiled as if struck, stumbling slightly in our dance before recomposing herself, “I-I d-don’t know what you’re referring to, Zenith”
I was not in the right frame of mind to tolerate her poorly stammered bull crap, “Don’t play dumb, Rarity. It’s extremely unbecoming of a lady like yourself”
She glared at me, “Must we have this discussion here?”
“We either talk about this now, or I walk right out that door and you never see me again” I gave her an ultimatum, wanting to see just how devoted she was to ‘capturing my heart’, as she put it.
She flinched and struggled for words, “Isn’t it obvious!?” She finally sibilated, “You’ve caught my eye. You’re rough around the edges, I’ll admit with an iota of hesitation. But every fashionista worth her weight can make something beautiful out of even the most uneven material, and learn a few things herself from the challenging experience. You’re not the perfect Prince I’ve envisioned in my dreams, but you could be much much worse than how you are now my dear; with he who must not be named being the most prominent example. But despite my efforts to appeal to you with my punctiliously executed womanly charm, you hardly bat an eye! At first I was worried that you might be sly, but you don’t seem the type. You’ve made it painfully clear that I had my work cut out for me if I was going to earn your affections properly. When Blissful Bounty told me that she had the ingredients necessary to loosen your inhibitions, I simply couldn’t resist the temptation. The Love Potion was just an act of desperation Zenith, I swear! Please don’t toss me to the side for wronging you that way!” She explained at length before clutching at the neck of my coat, all but imploring me to forgive her.
She really needed a better outlet than my intestines for venting some of her frustration, the only time I remember having a worse reaction in my gut was after ingesting three super hot chili peppers for the first time.
It was there that I recalled Celestia’s recommendation to make the most of my time with each of the Elements before I got fully immersed in the affairs of the state.
I sighed and ran a hand through my dark brown hair (one of the few things about my body that didn’t change), feeling each bristle spring back after its displacement, “Against my better judgment, I’m willing to give you a chance, Rarity” I held up a commanding finger with my free hand, “But, we will be doing this the old fashion way. So expect a gentleman caller whenever the two of us have free time” I laid down my terms for this relationship, setting up boundaries like this was important to me.
Her eyes began watering as she embraced me with a strength that belied her willowy figure, “Oh Zenith! I’m absolutely delighted to hear that!” She exclaimed rather loudly, forgoing the anonymity of the dance and alerting everyone within auditory range of who I was.
‘Damn it, Rarity’ I mumbled wordlessly.
Couples nearby stopped dancing and began chattering frenetically amongst themselves, eager to acquaint themselves with Concordia’s latest (and unwilling) fashion celebrity. Their actions caused a chain reaction that quickly spread through the crowd like a brushfire. Before long there was a growing mob of masked socialites marching towards us menacingly.
“Welp, time for you to run that interference for me!” I shouted, my asocial disposition showing its full colors.
I detached from the thunderstruck woman and made my escape, seamlessly becoming one with the shadows with a little magical aid. I snatched my pack from a counter they were using to stockpile people’s belongings before tossing a couple bits to the person on watch as a tip. I could only imagine his surprise as the hundred stamped pieces landed on his lap, with the only other evidence that I had been there being my hearty laughter.
⁂
“Arrival at Magiville in five! Last stop of the line before this ride goes out of service for the night!” The booming voice of the conductor rang out as he moved between cars and ended my reverie. All of the snoozing passengers in our cabin were startled awake, including Rarity, who upon realizing that she was in my arms, sighed happily and leaned back into me.
“M’hmm…I must have dozed off” Her fatigued voice was somewhat muffled by the pillow that the weight of her noggin was pressing against me.
“Cat napped all the way from Concordia, you did” I dryly remarked, feeling her shuffle in place as she yawned with all of the grace afforded to her as a lady.
She sighed, “I’ll have to catch more sleep than that if I’m to be awake and attentive for tomorrow’s spa date with Fluttershy”
“Are Saturdays when you normally have those spa sessions?” She nodded against the pillow, too tired to answer me with words.
‘Note to self, don’t schedule an appointment with the sizters on that day’ I wasn’t really worried about my bet with the twins being discovered (remember, they serviced the two genders separately) so much as I just didn’t want to be caught by Rarity and give her the wrong impression that I liked going to the spa.
I kept speaking, both to pass the time and keep her from falling asleep again, “You want to know something? I think a huge reason why you and Fluttershy can get along so well is that your Virtues are related. Hers is of a caring nature, while yours is of a giving nature. Both of you are quite selfless when it matters” That, and Fluttershy makes for a good listener while Rarity gratifies her loquacious tendencies.
“Hmm…very insightful of you darling” She muttered, only half awake.
The locomotive eventually arrived at the Magiville station and the brakes emitted a light grinding noise as we came to a halt. The engine let off a white stream of steam with a shrill hiss before all of the train’s occupants began tiredly vacating its plush carriages and trundled off to wherever they lived. I walked Rarity home with our entire luggage in tow as we trudged onward towards the Carousel Boutique. The woman’s movements were slow and mechanical, an indication of how she was running solely on autopilot by this time.
We reached the front of the store slash living residence before Rarity unlocked the door with a key and wiped her shoes on a quaint welcome home mat. I levitated over her share of the bags and was about to go spout my ‘good night and farewell’ shtick to her when she politely commanded me to wait there while she fetched my robes. I knew better than to protest any of her decisions and risk aggravating her already beleaguered mind, so I kept silent and did as she told me to. When she returned a couple minutes later, she handed me a large briefcase that she said contained my folded up robes along with my boots, made a passing commentary about wanting to see me in them again sometime soon, and gave me a peck on the cheek before gently shutting the door with her magic.
I surrounded my things with my own magic and made for an empty field where I was sure that no one could see me before spreading my wings and flying in the direction of my cloud house. Automatic lanterns with crystal bulbs posted all over the structure made my place rather easy to spot in the low light conditions of the night. Their combined glow contrasted with the tenebrous woods below, giving off the appearance of a lighthouse over a sea of darkness. I touched down on the front ‘landing pad’ and made my way inside, making another mental note to myself to cast wards on my door that would prevent any trespassers from entering without my permission. Intruders seemed unlikely in this area where the people were extremely considerate and neighborly, but it wasn’t a healthy habit I was intending to drop anytime soon.
After a short stop in the kitchen to deposit my cheesecake in the refrigerator, I ascended the stairs of my home for the very first time. I impulsively chose the pathway to the right, intuitively believing that the master bedroom would follow right hand placement. My memories of the floor plans that I chose when ordering the construction of this house should have served me in this task, but my own growing weariness lessened the overall efficiency of my mental faculties. I selected the nearest room with a bed in it and tossed my things unceremoniously to the side before flopping down on the mattress with all the poise of a brick. I was off on a trip to dreamland not too long after that.
I awoke the following morning with the strangest craving in my gut for bratwurst wrapped in bacon. Luna was absent from my dreams, which themselves weren’t worth mentioning either. The room I had fallen asleep in wasn’t the master bedroom as I had originally thought, but was one of my many guestrooms, all of which were very luxuriously decorated and furnished despite their simplicity.
I proceeded to explore the entirety of my sizable three floored home and summed up all the immediately interesting rooms in the following order: A semi-anechoic Music chamber (complete with instruments of all types for me to experiment with), a gym with plenty of space for me to practice close combat with my shadow dualists, and a glass domed observatory with a telescope that afforded me an unmitigated three hundred and sixty degree view of the surrounding landscape for miles. There were other rooms that deserved some recognition, but they were all mostly focused on creature comforts that I would be unlikely to make intensive use of.
Satisfied with the self guided tour, I freshened up in my guestroom’s bathroom (‘How does the plumbing even work?’) before I redressed in my casual wear and made a beeline for the kitchen. After pouring myself a nice bowl of Arcani-O’s (which I had to eat dry because there was no dairy anywhere to be found), I found that I wasn’t as aware and awake as I wanted to be. So I stepped outside onto my wispy porch and spread my wings before giving a mighty beat with them once and rocketing into the sky.
It was good conditions for flying, there were no other clouds in the vicinity besides the semi solid one my home was sitting on, the air was fresh and clear, and there was no one nearby to impede my sense of aloneness or figure out that Magiville’s newest Stellar Mage was more than he appeared. I don’t consider myself asocial out of social anxiety or anything of the like, but I did tire of the presence of others quite easily after an extended period of being around them. Being alone just…felt like a way to recharge my batteries, so to speak.
While I was ruminating on this, I took the care to rehearse several aerial maneuvers. Immelmanns, Split S’s, loop de loops, sharp banking turns where one really felt the G’s, and Peppy’s personal favorite; the barrel roll (which in all actuality is in fact, an aileron roll). I did and redid all of these until I felt like I had them down. My self enforced flying test culminated in a straight up vertical climb that went several hundred meters of altitude into the air. When I felt that I had ascended high enough, I cut power to my wings and calmly stalled in place for a fleeting moment before gravity took its course and called me Earthbound.
I was high up enough at this point that the curvature of the planet could be clearly made out. Below, I could see the many buildings that made up the town of Magiville, although at this height they looked more like wooden pinpricks than legitimate structures. Even without the aid of my wings, I began to build up serious speed with my sky dive, the whistling of wind screaming in my ears as I basked in the adrenaline rush of this favored activity. It wasn’t long before I had to extend my wings and pull up out of my nosedive, lest I wanted an unpleasant repeat of the last time I left an impact crater in terra firma.
I soared towards the outskirts of town until I spotted other Valkyrians patrolling the skies, which forced me to land somewhere between Sweet Apple Acres and the dirt path out of town that pointed north. I fast walked the rest of the way to the first and only location of my itinerary: Sugarcube Corner. I may not have been able to indulge in my odd bratwurst cravings, but I could do with a nice donut and coffee right about then.
I strolled into town, returning the usual friendly waves and good morning greetings from the locals as I sought to satisfy my urging for something sweet. Of all the notable buildings in town, I’d have to consider Sugarcube Corner the easiest to find, with the Carousel Boutique and Town Hall ranking a close second. I mean…it’s basically a commercialized version of the gingerbread house from the Hansel and Gretel fairytale for candy’s sake! It made me wonder how many people actually followed up on their curiosity and tried to take a bite out of it, only to find that the ‘gingerbread’ tasted a lot like stucco. The mental image of various passersby cringing from their honest mistake was enough to make my lips curl upwards in amusement, but only just.
I wiped the miniscule grin off my face before entering the bakery; a bell above the door jingled and announced my presence.
The interior of Sugarcube Corner was…kind of effeminate to be truthful. The support beams were painted a vivid pink and Valentine style heart decals could be found every three feet on the archways and wall moulding. The air was thick with the sweet scent of baked goods saturated with sugar, filling my lungs with a sense of warmness that I hadn’t experienced since picking up my cheesecake at Sweet Tooth’s confectionery. The most flabbergasting thing however, was the three-tiered serving tray that had regular apples and carrots piled on it, contrasting heavily with sugary motif of the bakery.
‘I guess even Arcanian bakeries have to maintain some semblance of healthy dieting’ I wryly observed to myself. I wondered if Carrot Top supplied the Cakes, and or was related in any way to Mister Carrot Cake, who emerged somewhere from the back storeroom to welcome me.
“Welcome stranger, to the Magiville famous Sugarcube Corner! I’m Carrot Cake, co-owner of this establishment alongside my wonderful wife Cup Cake and our darling children. What can I do you for, good sir?” He asked me with a genuinely interested smile.
Mister Cake was lanky man, with a bony protruding chin that accentuated his slight under bite. His main garments consisted of a baker’s apron and a candy-striped bowtie, along with one of those hats that you could get at a Krispy Kreme back home (‘Donuts seem to be on my brain today’). There was a smattering of freckles just above his nose and a genial sparkle in his eyes, one that told the world that he loved his job with all his heart. But enough psychoanalyzing on my part, I was freakin’ hungry for some fried dough.
I stepped up to the register, “Half a dozen donuts and a tall cup of coffee, if you would please” I requested.
He crooked his head to the side, “Why certainly! What kind of donuts would you like? We got glazed, jelly filled, sprinkled…” He gestured to a glass casing containing them on my right.
I shrugged, “I’ll leave that up to your no doubt impeccable judgment”
“If you say so, mister…?” He fished for a name, might as well give it to him.
“Call me Zenith” I offered him my hand, which he shook. His grip wasn’t very firm for an Agrarian, but he seemed to be the gentler sort of man.
“Zenith…? Why does that name sound familiar?” He mused aloud before his synapses fired properly, “Aha! Pinkie wanted to see you today, said it was for something vitally important” He explained, I doubted those were the specific words she used to convey that.
“Does she now?” This did not bode well for me. Of all the Elements that wanted to spend time with me, Pinkie would be most liable to tax my reserves of patience well beyond their breaking point. Don’t get me wrong, her eponymous promise to get me to smile happily was touching, but she would find one heck of a challenge in me.
He seemed to notice my hesitation and worked to counteract it, “Well you don’t have to go see her right now! Take a load off, allow me to go grab your order” He pointed to one of the very few velvet covered booths in the background.
I sauntered over to one and sat my keister down. The padding in the booth sank a few inches and swallowed up much of my body.
I rolled my eyes, ‘Well if that doesn’t make me feel fat, I don’t what will’
Mister Cake returned with my order after a couple minutes, setting down a paper box with one hand and handing me my coffee with the other.
I took a sip of my pre-creamed coffee, pleased that it was just the right temperature, “Thanks, how much do I owe you?”
He shook his head adamantly, “This is your first time here isn’t it? Our policy here is that you get thirty bits worth of free expense, to encourage our customers to become repeat customers. Right now you’re at ten” Wow, really? It’s like a freeloader’s paradise here!
“That’s a very generous business practice you have there Mister Cake, you might have just made one such customer out of me” I said, taking another swig of my frothy drink.
“That’s great! And please, you can call me Carrot. I’m not quite aged enough to qualify for perpetual senior honorifics” He bashfully spoke, scratching his head in minute self consciousness.
“I can acquiesce to that reasonable request, provided you can answer me one thing” I’ve had this question on my mind for a while now.
“And what would that be?” He asked curiously.
“Do you happen to know about Sweet Tooth’s Confectionery? Located up in the Capital?” I clarified for the thin baker.
His green eyes lit up and he laughed, “Know about it? My family’s the one who started that place up! Sweet Tooth is one of my ancestors on my father’s side, going back multiple generations. I’m said to look a lot like him at family reunions”
‘Called it’
“Ah, I had a feeling you might be connected to that somehow. Thanks Carrot” And with that the man left me to my food, telling me that Pinkie could doubtlessly be found in her room up the stairs that led to the spired part of the building.
The assortment of donuts that Carrot selected for me was diverse, though my favorites of the bunch were the two old fashion glazed ones that crumbled marvelously when mixed with the coffee. The coffee itself was excellent too, almost as good as the caffeinated drinks that Octavia had introduced to me from her favorite cafés. Sadly, all delicious things are consumed far too quickly for my liking, and I was faced with the invidious prospect of actually having to deal with the frizzy haired woman with limitless energy and little to no regard for personal space.
It was a tough decision between forsaking my social principles and bolting from the place or accepting the migraine that spending time with Miss Pie was likely to inflict me with. In the end, I acknowledged that I had been putting off one on one time with Pinkie Pie for long enough and decided to just bite the bullet. With some resentment in my heart, I clambered up the wooden steps with equally wooden motions.
The second floor of Sugarcube Corner was a lot more plainly decorated than the first, with no more than a couple dull colors painting the hallways and family photos hanging from wires nailed into the wall. I treaded lightly, fearing that even the slightest amount of noise would send Pinkie barreling towards me and prematurely ending my aspirations for facing this on my own terms. I lightly crept past an open doorway where the children’s cribs could be found (and where a partially exposed Cup Cake was currently in the process of breastfeeding said children. I was going to have to administer brain bleach to forget that image. It’s a good thing she didn’t notice me either, or the levels of awkward would double) and towards the door that had the placard of an arrow pointing upwards above it. I discovered a set of spiral stairs behind that door and began climbing those too, finding myself standing before a door with no light seeping out from beneath the door sill.
I was at a bit of an impasse here. I could either knock and see if she was inside planning who knows what for me, or I could turn tail and bail, exculpating myself with the believable excuse that no lights meant that she was in all probability, still sleeping in.
“Fortune favors the bold” I said to no one in particular, before committing myself to the task at hand. I rapped my knuckles against the door, the knocks echoing inside like the spacious interior of a cavern or cave. Or maybe it was just my imagination getting the better of me, for Pinkie answered almost straightaway.
“Who is it~?” She responded in a lilting voice from just behind the flowery portal.
I was about to respond normally, when I stopped myself. Why not have a little fun with this?
I cleared my throat and spoke in my authoritative voice, “This is the IRS. You’re late on your back taxes and there’s going to be hell to pay if you don’t cough up the moolah right now!” I knocked extra hard on the door for emphasis.
I heard a loud gasp come from within, “You’ll never take me alive, you fat cat money grubbers!” She screeched and I heard the sound of objects being knocked over as someone scrambled away from the door and up some steps with haste.
I resisted the urge to snicker at how easily she believed me, “Relax Pinks, it’s just me, Zenith”
“You mean you’re not with the government?” She asked innocently, effectively shutting my trap.
I looked up in thought, “Erm…kind of? But I don’t go around collecting taxes, so I’m not here to repossess your stuff or anything” I replied truthfully. Celestia better not make me a glorified repo man, albeit it would be a hilarious job if everyone reacted the way Pinkie Pie did if I was.
“Well in that case, head on in! But can I ask a favor of you first?”
“Okay?”
“I’m going to treat you to a little something I’ve been practicing for a while now and I want you to play the first song that comes to mind when you see it. You can do that right?” What wacky thing was she going to show me that required supplementary music?
“Yeah?” Time to shore up the mental defenses.
“Great! And the door’s unlocked, you can come inside whenever you want!” She exclaimed boisterously, and I had to berate myself for taking her words out of context.
I gingerly gripped the handle of the door and twisted at it, activating the mechanism and pushing it open before I climbed up a smaller set of stairs. The room inside was unlit and very dim, as Pinkie had drawn down the blinds over all of her windows. I advanced with caution and was about to augment my vision with a Night Sight spell, when a duo of small stage lamps suddenly lit up, revealing a small platform set up in the middle of her room that sported a red and white striped metal pole. Pinkie herself emerged from the shadows wearing a colorful spandex outfit with sweatbands on her forehead and wrists that wouldn’t have been out of place in a gym from the eighties. She took to the pole and pirouetted around it once before inverting herself with acrobatic skill and beaming at me, her insane gravity defying hair showing no indication of lolling downward.
She giggled at my bemused expression, “I can’t dance without music silly! Put something on for me!”
“I have just the thing in mind” I blankly responded, conjuring the sound sphere and playing an old favorite by Def Leppard.
“Ooh, good choice!” She complimented, before she disengaged from the pole and grabbed a syrup bottle that was sitting on her nightstand for some unfathomable reason. She then proceeded to shake it up before drenching herself with its contents, letting the saccharine viscous fluid flow down her body in long rivulets. Indeed, she was hot, sticky sweet, from her head to her bare feet.
So there I stood for the remainder of the song, just watching Pinkie Pie pole dance for me, going through all kinds of complex motions that I’m pretty sure had authentic names, but I just couldn’t recall any of them for the life of me. Even with the syrup coating her skin, she was not impeded in her efforts to impress me, effortlessly twirling around the variegated pillar and whipping her matted hair back. All things considered, this could have been a lot weirder…and less visually enticing, than it was. Something about the way she flexed and coiled her limber body around the metal bar was just hypnotic to behold.
When she was done, she detached from that metal bar and rubbed off some sweat that accumulated on her cheek before she studied my face. My natural poker face held up however, and there was a flash of consternation in her eyes that was doused as fast as it had appeared.
“Drat! I was almost certain that would do the trick!” She snapped her fingers and muttered to herself at levels that suggested that she couldn’t speak clandestinely under her own power.
She faced me with her ever present smile, “I’d offer to hug you and try to get you to smile that way, but I’m a little icky as you can probably tell. Be back in twenty thousand jiffies!” She sped past me up the stairs and into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her from wind displacement alone. Why was physics more of a suggestion in this world than an unbreakable rule?
I heard the sound of rushing water filling up a tub, along with Pinkie humming a cheerful tune and murmuring audibly to herself about ways to turn my frown upside down. I shook my head and scoffed indignantly upon hearing that. How dare she? The near constant line etched across my face is decidedly neutral, through and through. I devoted time to study the layout of Pinkie’s room before my blood pressure rose any further, pulling up all of the shutters in the room with a quick application of magic and looking around.
Pinkie’s room was not as exuberant as I had led myself to believe, and the color pink itself could only been seen in small doses all throughout the interior. It was furnished with a simple twin sized bed with a quilted sheet depicting balloons and other sweets on top of it that was located in one corner of the corner less room, two nightstands next to that bed with an oil lamp and vanity mirror on them respectively, and a dresser filled with clothes and various costumes that she likely wore at the many parties that she planned and hosted. For some reason, she also had an old style phonograph, although I couldn’t find any other records in the room beyond the one that was already under the needle. There was a pungent whiff of peppermint in the air, one that must have been from a perfume of sorts, for I could smell it on Pinkie quite strongly as she passed by me earlier.
Roughly nineteen and a half thousand jiffies of waiting later, Pinkie emerged from the restroom looking as fresh as a daisy and thrice as fragrant. She was now redressed in a pink frilly skirt and a white top that left some of the pudge on her belly visible. The girl wasn’t corpulent by any means, but she was a tad plumper than the average woman residing in this town. She vaulted over the wooden railing and landed with the grace of a cat, prompting a raised eyebrow from me at her blatant disregard for stairs. Agrarians are built tough, so they can make jumps like those without breaking anything important, but it’s still a strange sight for me to witness someone nonchalantly clear a ten foot drop like it was nothing.
She clapped her hands together gleefully, “Zenny Winny! I forgot to say it before, but I’m so glad you’re here! Now we ca-”
I interrupted before she could get another word off, “Woah woah!” I pointed a stern finger in her direction, “Only ONE woman can refer to me by that name, and you are not her” I narrowed my eyes at the party girl. Call it petty, but I take affectionate nicknames given to me very seriously. Only a very special girl can have the privilege of being even the slightest bit cutsie wootsie with me.
She was unfazed by my disgruntled reaction, “Of course I’m not her! If I was her, then who would she be? And who would take my place in the meantime? Or teach them what the secret ingredient in the rainbow cupcakes is?” She nervously spouted, growing more and more frantic as she entertained her tangent.
I held up my arms in an emphatic gesticulation, “Pinkie focu-…” My voice faded as I noticed something was amiss with my left forearm, namely something green and scaly.
I motioned to the inadvertent living accessory with my free hand, “What is this?” I spoke in my most unamused tone of voice.
She cocked her head to the side in confusion, “Huh…? Oh! It’s just gummy. That’s his way of greeting people he hasn’t met yet!” She tittered and waved it off.
“That’s nice” I pried her obtrusive pet off of me, eliciting a ‘sh-pop!’ noise as the vacuum from the suction created by the creature’s toothless bite was filled in. Gummy left his mark on me in the form of a moist patch of skin.
‘Eww…gator saliva’ I was going to have to disinfect that.
I gently handed off the tiny Alligator with the abnormally large purple googly eyes to his caretaker, who accepted him with an almost motherly disposition as she gently cradled and cooed to him while making other sounds of endearment. The gator made no signs of perceiving the abundant love he was receiving, or much of anything for that matter. How the heck did he attach himself to my arm without me noticing? It’s probably best not to think too hard about it.
While the two of them were occupied with ‘being sappy’ as Rainbow would put it, I utilized my wings to leap up to her elevated walkway with a lazy flap. I didn’t think she’d mind if I used her washroom for cleaning off her pet’s spit. I wasn’t a germaphobe like Rarity, but I had a very low tolerance for any kind of filth imposed on my person. Pinkie had a relatively Spartan bathroom, with only a ring curtained bathtub and washbasin. Next to the sink was a large bottle with a picture of bubbles on the label, presumably for taking bubble baths.
‘Bubbly baths for the bubbly girl, how fitting’ She could have shaved off a few thousand jiffies if she had chosen to forgo such needless luxuries, but that would be like telling her to forgo the eating of the sweets. It just wouldn’t compute.
I washed my hands of this nonsense (figuratively anyway) before making my way back down to Pinkie, who was no longer playing mommy with Gummy. Rather, she was facing away from me and checking a long unfurled list. Upon closer inspection, the only directive marked on the paper was ‘Go to work’, repeated over a dozen times. The fact that Pinkie and Spongebob shared a work ethic along with similar eccentricities was enough to engender a compact grin on my face. Pinkie’s left ear abruptly twitched and she pivoted in place, the suddenness of her action wiping the look off my countenance before it could fully mature.
She scratched her head in bewilderment, “Huh, my Pinkie senses were being triggered for a moment there” She commented aloud.
“May I ask which one that was?”
“It’s a newer one. I’m not a hundred percent sure yet, but I think it has something to do with you! You also make my tummy flutter every so often!”
“Hopefully not in the way I think you’re implying” I don’t know what I’d do if I found out that Pinkie was being sweet on me, pun intended.
She shook her head, “Not the butterfly kind of fluttery silly! It’s more like a sensation of my stomach turning over. That mixed with other signals informs me that something super special is going on with you! In fact, I recall my Pinkie senses picking up a disturbance coming from the direction of Applejack’s farm a short while back, someone who I wanted to see laughing, did it without me!” She blatantly invaded my personal space until our noses were all but touching. I just stared into the blue abyss that were the windows to her soul, “Was that person you, mister?”
I gave her a curt nod, “Definitely maybe” My answer neither confirming nor denying her suspicions. The event she had mentioned must have been when Apple Bloom asked me to join the Mana Mark Maidens. The memory of that inane request still makes me snigger from time to time.
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you mister serious! When you slip up, and I know that you will eventually, I’ll be there…to smile along with you!” She grinned from ear to ear, abandoning her mildly menacing moody face.
“Whatever you say” I dismissed her with a noncommittal shrug, “So is there a reason you asked to see me beyond trying to make me smile with that…earlier display?”
“Uh huh! You’re going to help me with the weekend promotional bake sale! We even received a missive in our mailbox that was delivered before dawn informing us that the Princess herself was going to pay us a surprise visit tomorrow and endorse it! Isn’t that just the most superific news?”
Dang, Celestia works fast. This is good though, after she satisfies her sweet tooth and is adored by her subjects, we can clear things up between Twilight and myself. This newfound existentialism of hers was bound to be put to rest if I could subvert it with something cathartic, like grief over her actions being erased by unexpected forgiveness. I really wanted to put all that behind us anyway. Not to mention that my intuition was advising that I should make it an effort to maintain strong relationships with each one of the Elements, both with their bearers and the virtues that they represent.
“Do the Cakes know about this? Because they didn’t seem that worried about it” I related my observation to her.
“Of course they do! It’s just that this isn’t the first time we’ve entertained a Royal guest, so they aren’t scrambling head over heels trying to make everything perfect for her arrival, since she told us herself that she doesn’t wanted to be treated as above her subjects. Princess Celestia is equitable like that. Plus with your help, we can plausibly double the amount of confections this place churns out, which means a larger inventory that people can enjoy during the bake sale!” She said as she jumped in place. Her energetic fervor was almost infectious…almost.
Well, I’ve got nothing better to do today, “Are the Cakes cool with me helping you in the kitchen?” I asked, just to be sure.
“I’m Magiville’s premiere party person! Trust me, they won’t mind if I take on a second set of helping hands” I imagine her word would carry some weight, given her already storied reputation.
“Then lead on Pinkie” I bowed and swept my arm out, gesturing for her to take the metaphorical reigns.
“Okie dokie!” She bounced slash skipped the rest of the way, with myself following close behind in a far more masculine fashion.
The layout of the kitchen in Sugarcube Corner looked more like the kind that you’d find at home than in a professional gourmet bakery, albeit all of the apparatuses were closer to professional sizes that made your normal cooking devices look like an easy bake oven in comparison. It was fully equipped with monstrous multiple racked ovens, mixers with shiny chrome bowls placed underneath their beaters, and even Taffy pulling machines. To my minor annoyance, Pinkie versed me in proper kitchen etiquette despite my insistence that I was no stranger to the culinary ways of the chef. What made it worse was that she explained everything to me in song format, and it was catchy enough that I was hard pressed in getting it out of my head, which was her nefarious intention in the first place I’ll bet.
Pinkie also showed me the downstairs basement slash pantry where all the bakery’s stocks were stored. The shelves down there were chock full of all kinds of goodies such as cookie dough packed in tubs, frosting tubes of all colorations, gummies in all shapes and sizes; the works really. No torture equipment anywhere though, much to my relief.
“You wouldn’t happen to have strips of bacon stored away in case of bacon emergencies would you?” I randomly asked, sweet and salty ideas on the brain.
She held a hand to her chin as she thought deeply, “I don’t actually plan ahead in case of bacon emergencies. But I’m pretty sure the Cakes have their own bacon in the fridge, you can just use that!”
“Excellent! Mind if I improvise using a few of these things?” I pointed with a thumb to the racks of candy goods.
“Sure! May I ask what you’re planning to improvise?”
“Something I’m sure that this bakery has never seen before, but it’s going to stay a surprise until after I’m done crafting it!” I held up a prohibitive finger.
Her hair sagged a bit before poofing back to its original state, “Aww. But that just makes me more excited to see what you’re going to make!” I wish I could suppress disappointment as easily as she could.
So I set about drifting up and down the rows collecting the ingredients required for the little plan that I had in mind, while Pinkie seemed to just be gathering simple baking constituents. We went about cooking for the next quarter hour, Pinkie baking some kind of cupcakes while I did the pre-work in preparation for the opus of all candy cookouts. That’s right, I was concocting a barbecue using sweets instead of meat…only without axing the bacon, which was currently sizzling on the stove. The mixed scents of pig fat and dulces contrasted in an oddly beautiful way, although Pinkie Pie’s nose was crinkled in aversion to the aromatic marriage. Heresy, I say!
“Did you know that you remind me of one of my sisters?” She randomly remarked, as she put another batch of cupcake batter under a mixer to be blended together by the whisking blades.
Such a comment intrigued me, “Do I? Which one?”
“My older sister Maud. You both have a ‘stony’ expression and everything!” She divulged with a snicker, finding her own parallel funny.
“Tell me about this sister of yours” I solicited, breaking apart large chunks of chocolate into the top pot of a double boiler, watching it slowly liquidate into a delicious gooey fluid.
She was all but trembling at the opportunity to talk about her family, “There’s so much to tell! She likes to keep up with the latest fashion trends like Rarity, she’s honest like Applejack, and she’s crazy knowledgeable like Twilight! She not the most talkative…but she writes amazing poetry, introduced rock candy necklaces to me, and is the best geologist this side of Arcania!” Her tone was filled with the love and respect that the younger sibling who looked up to their older sibling would have. I could never identify with such a thing, being an only child and all.
“I’d very much like to meet this sister of yours someday” We could have many interesting conversations together…or we could just stare at each other in complete and utter silence. Either of which is fine by me.
“You should! But she lives out near the rock farm where I grew up” She sighed, reminded of the distance separating them.
“Oh right, she also has a pet rock named Boulder” She said as an afterthought.
“I bet he’s got nerves of steel” I grinningly replied, having now reached my quota of bad witticisms for the day.
“I told her that once, she corrected me by informing me that Boulder was a Clastic rock and therefore wouldn’t contain the traces of ore that would be necessary to smelt into iron, which itself could be refined into steel” Maud takes things that literally? I’m starting to like her even better!
“Pinkie?” Mister Cake’s head popped around the corner, “Me and the wife are off to provide that catering order that miss Cherry Berry booked us for today. You don’t mind looking after our precious Pound and Pumpkin for us, do you?” Eeugh, I’m certainly not going to do it, toddlers are the devil.
She shut the lid to one of the ovens; having stacked it to the brim with filled cupcake pans, “Nopie dopie! But that means I would have to leave Zenith here all by his lonesome”
His head turned to me, “I trust that you can handle yourself?” He deadpanned with an unworried smirk.
I gave him a brief nod in the affirmative and he was off on his merry way. Pinkie disrobed her apron and immediately left to tend to the twins upstairs. It was early enough that no one beside myself had entered Sugarcube Corner, and would probably stay that way for some time. Most of my pre-work preparation was finished by now, which meant that I had a free hand to reenact something that was quite popular back in my High School days. I set up the counters with everything I’d need for my reenactment and slid the generous proportions of bacon strips onto a platter for later.
“Looks like it’s…” I donned an unused colander from a cabinet and some conveniently placed silver shutter shades, "Epic Snack Time!”
I began to carve in round shapes out of a flat pan laden with crisped rice, “Snap, crackle, pop! Rice crispy patties over the top!” It was going to be a large order, so I made dozens of them arranged in neat stacks. I then painted all of them with caramel streaks to emulate grill lines.
With that done, I fashioned steak shaped containment devices out of some tinfoil wraps that I found in one of the drawers. I then scooped out large amounts of cookie dough from the bins and started filling them in, “Cookie dough steaks, that’s freakin’ smart!”
I popped those into the oven and twisted the dial, having completely gotten over how much all of this familiar technology reminded me of home. While I waited for the ‘steaks’ to finish baking, I went to work battering thin rectangular chocolate bars and shaping those into fries. I individually and painstakingly dipped each and every one into the grease fryers (this kitchen really did have it all) until they vaguely resembled the salted accompaniments to any good burger. I taste tested one and found it to be satisfactory. Then again, deep frying anything could make it taste decent.
The timers for both the cookie steaks and Pinkie’s cupcakes dinged, and I took each pan out by hand, setting Pinkie’s off to the side to cool. I laid all of the cookie steaks atop a metal rack with a trough underneath to recycle the runoff from what I was about to do. It was time for my favorite part.
‘Gonna be drip drop drippin’ I took the sizable pot with the melted chocolate inside and began to temper the finished steaks with it.
“Dribbling that chocolate sauce… Dribblin’ that chocolate…sauce… Dribblin’ dat chawclate…sawce!” My voice resembled that of a manic person by the end of my rant. I wasn’t drunk enough to really do it justice, but I came close. I chuckled to myself; anyone monitoring me right now would probably be a little concerned for my mental health.
By the time I was finished, I had multiple glazed steaks ready for consumption. I borrowed from the existing inventory of pastries and donuts to make imitation hamburger and hotdog buns using round jelly filled donuts and sculpted Danishes for the false frankfurters. I had to get creative with the Taffy and gummies I had prepared and cut out in order to believably impersonate lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. But having magic made these intimidating tasks much more practical and efficient.
I utilized the tubes of frosting I had snatched from the pantry to be my ketchup, mustard, mayo, and relish respectively. I cut open the Danishes with a knife and stuffed candy bars into them before grabbing the ‘mustard’.
“Remember to practice safe eats folks, and use a condiment!" I said in my best instructor’s voice, squirting a dollop of the thick stuff onto my creation.
After tediously assembling all of the burgers and dogs, I focused on weaving together the bacon and candied it with pepper and brown sugar, “Legendary bacon weave needs more sugar, more sugar, more sugar, too much sugar! Keep it tasteful” I slapped the hand with a large pinch of the granules and washed it in the sink.
I then baked that in the still heated ovens till it reached bacon nirvana. The bacon itself didn’t really serve a purpose in regards to the barbecue; it was just a reward to myself for being a Maverick. I took off the colander and shutter shades, wanting an unimpeded view of my masterpiece. I stood back and gazed upon my completed work, breathing in deep and inhaling the lovely scent of sugar and bacon. Just…one more finishing touch.
“Call up your dentist! Tell her she’s a little b-caw-tch!” I may have announced this a little too loudly, because I heard the sound of a child laughing elatedly not too far from me.
I turned in place to face this new intruder, finding a young Pound Cake having just crawled into the kitchen. He looked like your typical toddler in diapers, with a thin patch of brown hair on his head that was a lighter shade than his beady eyes.
I snorted and shook my head, “You didn’t hear me say that, young one” He just chortled some more, finding me amusing for some reason.
Tiny sandy beige wings sprouted from his back and he buzzed up to my face level and hovered there, holding out his arms like he wanted a hug. I think he wanted one, at least. I’m not the greatest with kids I’ll admit.
Still, I reached out and plucked him from the air, eliciting a sound of childlike delight from the adolescent. I tickled his nose with my index finger and he began playing with it in his small hands, laughing all the more.
“Pound Cake! Where did you fly off to, little guy?” Pinkie called out as she entered the kitchen area to see me holding him.
“Oh thank Celestia!” She sighed, “I was worried he might have gotten outside”
“It’s a good thing he didn’t then, huh?” I replied without looking up, cradling the boy in one arm and watching him suckle on my index like it was a pacifier. I didn’t mind the drool he got on me as much this time, gator saliva was ickier than infant saliva I suppose.
“Hey, he likes you! I had to cover myself in flour before I could catch his attention like that” She sounded equally envious and happy for me.
“And you need to keep his attention, he could have wandered someplace dangerous and put himself in jeopardy” I lightly reprimanded her. The kitchen isn’t exactly safe for children to be.
Her shoulders lowered somewhat, “I know, but keeping up with newborn Valkyrian and Stellar Mage infants is full time work! Agrarian children aren’t as problematic, though they don’t sit still for very long either”
I held him a little longer until he was placid enough for me to hand him back to her, who began lightly bouncing him in her arms. She looked at him with a faint yearning in her eyes.
“I know they’re not mine, but sometimes…I imagine having kids of my own just like them” She confessed in an abnormally quiet voice.
“And I’m certain you’ll make a great mom someday” I stated with confidence, making her cheeks flush pink at the compliment.
She smiled sweetly at me, “Thanks, that means a lot to me Zenith”
She then glanced over to the fruits of my labor, “Wowie! What is all that? It looks scrumptious!”
“That Pinkie…is going to be the highlight of this place’s bake sale” And that was me being honest, not boastful.
“If it tastes half as good as it looks, I don’t doubt it!” She nodded in agreement.
“What about this bakery’s customers? Who is manning the register?” I raised my concerns.
She waved a hand, “Oh, I just juggle between supervising these bundles of joy and tending to our clientele” As if on cue, the sound of something falling over with a loud crash followed by girlish giggling made the pink haired woman cringe. Alternating tasks? That simply won’t do.
“How about we tag team? You watch over the kids and I’ll service the customers and see to it that they can continue to cram their gullets with their sugary vices” I offered, seeing that she was stretched thin looking over the children as it were.
“You don’t have to do tha-” She was interrupted by yet another crash, “It’s a deal! Let me just let you in on what you need to know for retail” She hastily corrected.
After teaching me the basics, Pinkie was able to focus on the Cake twins. Subsequently, the number of loud crashes was drastically diminished (although not entirely neutralized). Managing Sugarcube Corner’s sales was pretty straightforward. People came in, they purchased something that I would retrieve for them, they would drop the bits on the counter (occasionally flirt with me, much to my dismay), and leave out the way they entered with their treat in hand.
It was getting close to early evening by the time the Cakes returned from the catering event, looking exhausted from hauling all of their edible wares there in push able wooden carts. Pinkie had already tucked the children in bed a few hours earlier and was able to help me out on the selling floor. She chittered excitedly about my achievement to the bleary bakers, whose eyes began to widen once they heard more about the special goodies that I had made earlier that day. They seemed astounded at her words and ventured into the kitchen to see for themselves, emerging with astonished expressions adorning their features.
They commended me on my creative initiative, although a candy BBQ theme was something that they had never been seen done before, so they didn’t know how well it would be received at tomorrow’s official bake sale. I told them that it was bound to at least be an eye opener for more people than just them, but that and Pinkie’s cupcakes would have to do either way. They more or less agreed and offered to clean up the soiled dishes that our labor’s had accumulated while Pinkie and I took the rest of the day off. The woman jumped at the opportunity to have some fun and dragged me across town to a place I’ve been meaning to pay a visit to, The Asphodel Fields.
As we passed through the doors, a deep rumbling sensation graced my ears and the rest of my body. My lips twitched upwards as I instantly recognized the song. I never figured Vinyl to be the Daft Punk type, but her choice of copied music was in good taste. Even this early in the evening, the place was packed with people wanting to get the most out of their weekend experience. While a few were sitting on the sidelines and socializing with friends, most were out on the floor grooving to the steady electronic beat flowing out of the DJ’s monster speakers. It was especially cool how the bioluminescent flowers in the ceiling changed colors every now and again in response to variations in the tempo of the song, illuminating the fog shrouding the floor and giving the club a mystic atmosphere.
Pinkie left me to my own devices once I proved more than resistant to the idea of joining her on the lit up panels lining the dance floor. I had no misgivings about dancing itself, but after having danced most of yesterday away, I wanted to just sit back and let others do it for a change. There was a persistent medley of electronic dubstep and even remixes of music that I already knew, thrumming the air with their intense vibrations. Try as I might, I couldn’t see Vinyl herself manning her turntables, and with the spell that she used to mix things up from afar, it meant that I could either waste time trying to find her…or wait for her to come find me.
I chose the latter, being too lazy to bother activating True Sight and just highlighting potential hiding spots I could flush her out of, although my desire to annoy the bartender might have played a huge part in that decision.
I sat myself in an empty stool by the bar and grinned at the barkeep, propping up my head with a fist as I leaned against the counter surface, “So…how bout making me that diet water?”
He apparently remembered me, because I saw him go through the motion of sighing heavily, “We serve actual drinks here, sir. I’ve never heard of a diet water in my life, and I’m quite well versed in all the permutations possible for drink mixes” He spoke over the roar of the music.
“You’ve obviously never heard of Sapporo then. Forget I asked for anything, nothing you can make would be potent enough to give me that fabled buzz anyway” I replied with a condescending wave of my hand.
He pointed to me with a stern finger, “I’ll have you know tha-”
“Oh lay off, Mint Julep! Can’t you tell when someone is screwing with you?” Came a familiar voice from behind me as the surrounding racket was dimmed, “Although it is kind of uncool how quick you are to dismiss my number one barkeep’s drink making skills, pretty boy” She jokingly chastised.
I gave her a sideways glance, taking in her white midriff tank top and jean shorts, “Vinny, funny seeing you here” A nickname for a nickname is fair game.
I couldn’t see it, but the slight rotating motion of her head told me that she was rolling her eyes, “Well, I only just live upstairs. What a mind boggling surprise that I can found here during club hours too!” What a snippy reply. I like a girl who knows her way around snark.
“No kidding? So have you been making good use of my IPod?” I rhetorically inquired, already getting the gist of the probable answer.
She pulled her shades down to give me a disbelieving look with her lovely crimson irises, “Dude, are you kidding? I’ve only managed to triple my crib’s regular attendance merely by playing snippets of the tunes you have on that wonderful, wonderful device of yours! You gotta tell me where I can get one of my own!”
“I see you’re quite taken with it then. And it’s one of a kind unfortunately, there are none others like it in this world” I tentatively said. The results spoke for themselves, more people partying it up at the Asphodel Fields plus kickass music from home, made for one happy Vinyl Scratch.
“You’re probably here to take it back, huh?” Her shoulders slumped as the idea of departing with my media player weighed down on her. I’d feel like a jackass if I deprived her of the thing she had become dependent on, evidently.
“Nah, it serves a better purpose here entertaining the masses than collecting lint in my pocket. You can keep it Vinyl, as long as I can drop by every now and again to give it a listen” My music memory wasn’t flawless after all.
I almost toppled over in my chair as she embraced me, “Pretty boy, you can consider yourself a permanent VIP as far as I’m concerned!”
“Why do you insist on calling me that? There’s nothing pretty about me” I objected, my masculine pride feeling a little wounded.
She pulled back from me and grinned, wagging a finger, “That would be telling, and my lips are sealed” She made a zipper motion across those lips, which were marked with blue lipstick, now that I have a closer look.
“Okay zip lip, do you still do requests?” She nodded once, still not speaking.
“Play Genesis by Justice for me if you would, please” I hadn’t heard that one in forever, especially not coming from speakers with professional output.
She booked for her turntables, apparently having to select the song manually from my IPod’s touch screen. The people in the crowd were visibly confused as the song that was playing gradually faded into one that they hadn’t heard before. Once the bass kicked in, they were appeased.
I bobbed my head to the incredibly sexy beat, ‘This song is like watching Godzilla rise out of the ocean, looming menacingly over a hapless coastal city, only to start break-dancing instead’
I felt someone tap me on the shoulder, which could have only been the barkeep since I was facing away from him to watch the action unfold on the floor. I rotated in my barstool to find out what he wanted, seeing him slide a pink drink to me. My first reaction was to check for any heart shaped bubbles, having been conditioned to do so after the first bad experience with feminine colored refreshments.
“This one’s on the house. Vinyl did say that you were a permanent VIP now didn’t she?”
I gave it a sniff, getting a hint of something like Pepto Bismol, “I don’t know…it’s not a diet water”
“Oh for the love of…are you going to drink it or not? Unless you’re willing to take back what you said earlier” He crossed his arms impatiently.
I took the glass in my hand, “Not a chance” I roguishly maintained, before downing the whole glass in a single draft. I resisted the urge to grimace, not only did it smell like pepto bismol, it tasted like it too.
“Wow” The barkeep uttered, impressed, “That stuff’s going to go straight to your head you know”
“Bah! As long as I don’t start seeing pink elephants I should be-” I trailed off as I was smacked in the face by the mother of all hallucinations.
See through Pink Pachyderms of all shapes and sizes began pouring out of the woodwork, all of them carrying parade equipment of some sort that sounded nothing like parade equipment. Elephants here, elephants there, they were everywhere! They were doing all sorts of carnival tricks worthy of Cirque du Soleil though, so it was rather entertaining to witness.
Pinkie stopped by, sweat evident in her features from all the exercise she was getting. She opened her mouth to say something to me but I cut her off before she could.
“Shh! I’m watching the Pink Elephants” I hushed the energetic frizzy haired girl.
“Oh…” She looked in the direction I was staring up at, “And what are they doing?”
“They’re walking around the bed, on their head. Clippety cloppety~” I said in a singsong voice, fully engrossed in the hypnotic motions of the transparent phantoms.
“Huh, what an unusual view” She remarked offhand, before leaving me be.
Once the illusion brought on by the drink dissipated, I spoke some more with Vinyl, who kept pestering me for updates on Octavia. Their friendship had been mostly one sided, with Vinyl holding an immense respect for the musician while Octavia saw the free spirited girl as an antithesis to her more refined disposition. I informed Vinny that Octy had recently been promoted to first chair in the Orchestra, further elaborating to the uncomprehending DJ that first chair was considered very prestigious. I left out the specific details of how she qualified, since simply thinking about the vainglorious Marvelous Melody left a bad taste in my mouth. I learned a lot from Vinyl in those hours, about how she ditched her mediocre skills with a saxophone after she had taken a class in one of the newer (and far more hip, as she had put it) electronic music programs at the academy. One of her classmates in that course happened to be Neon Lights, who she said was a bit lacking in the jams department, but more than made up for it with his lighting effects.
Strangely enough, Pinkie swung by again and told me that she had a curfew to keep with the Cakes before giving me a minute to say farewell to Vinyl.
“Had a fun time tonight? Most of those tracks I played were just for you, ya know?” She grinningly asked. How nice of her.
“Yeah, I had an alright time”
She gave me a strange look that I couldn’t discern with her shades in the way, “Just alright? I’ve met deaf people who were more enthusiastic about my tunes”
“If there’s one thing you should know about me Vinny, it’s that I tend to speak in understatements” ‘And most of the time I mean them’
“Is that previous statement included?” She quipped back with a chuckle. Touché Vinyl, touché.
The DJ thanked me a thousand times more for letting her keep my IPod and told me to come back any time I wanted (‘Even if it wasn’t during club hours’, she suggested with a cheeky wink of those brilliant eyes). It wasn’t that big a sacrifice for me really, as my laptop had an even bigger library on it (but she didn’t need to know that). There’s also the fact that I can get fresh music off of the Internet. It’s endlessly perplexing how I can still keep up to date with the usual events happening back home…but magic man. 'It is as it does’ as old Annabelle likes to say.
Pinkie and I exited the Asphodel Fields and made for her home, the girl was still lively after burning all those calories dominating the floor, but she wasn’t using any of it to talk much, to my relief. I was about to wave goodnight to her and make for the direction of my house suspended in the sky when she stopped me.
“And just where do you think going mister?”
“My house…?”
She shook her head, “Nuh uh! You’re staying over tonight, with me”
‘I am? When did this shocking development occur?’
“Like a sleepover? Isn’t it improper for an unmarried man and woman to share a room together?” I’m not saying I’d do anything untowards to her, but the idea itself presented a mental hurdle.
She giggled, “Not if they’re just good friends!” Was her simple answer.
I shrugged and went along with it. I wasn't in a mood to be contrary to the cheerful woman anyway. The Cakes must have already been asleep by the time we stepped foot inside, and Pinkie had to use a dim lantern by the door to light our way up the stairs and through the halls, with her tiptoeing for extra stealth. I just cast a muffling spell on my feet and walked normally, having a magic solution to any problem is just plain awesome.
After our careful sneaking around and getting situated in her room, Pinkie took another of her bubble baths to wash off her nightclub perspiration. I just found a spot to sit and have an Epic staring contest with gummy, who himself was sitting on a bed of newspapers. The abrupt opening of the bathroom door distracted my concentration and made me blink reflexively.
I glared daggers at the gator, “You win this round” Receiving no other response other than a blink, snide bastard.
Pinkie switched her old attire for a set of fluffy pajamas, while I had to make do with my normal clothes. She noticed something different about me as she came down the stairs and closed the distance between us before randomly licking my cheek.
Pinkie used lick! Zenith is paralyzed!
“Did you just...lick me?” I asked as I rubbed her saliva off the spot.
“Uh huh! There was a chocolate stain on you from when you were baking earlier” She enthusiastically explained, seemingly unaware of the physical trespass she had just committed.
‘This girl has zero reverence for personal space doesn't she?'
“And how do I taste?” I asked, knowing that I had no real reason to be incensed by this action.
“Like chocolate, silly billy!” She grinned. I set myself up for that didn’t I?
“My parents didn’t name me Billy” I pettily expostulated.
“Why so serious?” She asked me, “You should put a smile on that face!” Oh lord, I can already see her wearing Joker make up.
“Maybe later” I said, brushing her off as I lay back in her bed. There was enough space on it that there hopefully wouldn’t be a repeat of what I experienced waking up next to Lyra.
“Oh oh! We can tell each other super spooky ghostie stories! And giggle at them if we get too scared!" She proposed, taking to her side of the sheets and sitting up.
“I wouldn’t recommend that Pinks”
“Why not?” She asked with a tilt of her head.
“Because my ghosties giggle back” I’ve read enough creepypasta to know some stories that would leave her wide awake for days. Besides, guys my age don’t giggle, they chuckle, there’s an important semantic difference.
'Laughter may be the best medicine, but I'll self medicate whenever I feel it necessary’
After ten minutes of Pinkie suggesting activities that I immediately shot down (often before she could finished speaking, I can be a bit rude when I want my sleep), my aloofness was beginning to take its toll on her. She exhaled with exasperation evident in her breathing. She wasn’t able to suppress her disappointment this time.
“Why don’t you ever smile?” She asked out of the blue, her voice devoid of any of her usual cheer, infused with solemnness in its place.
“I can smile for you now” I gave her my best impression, which only lasted a second or two until my lips started twitching. That’s how unused those muscles were.
She shook her head, “That’s not a real smile. It doesn’t reach your eyes” She has criteria for identifying false smiles?
“Yeah, well, I smiled for you anyway. You happy?” I asked with a slight sneer.
“Are you?” She shot back, slicing into my flippant attitude like a hot knife through butter.
‘I hate it when people answer a rhetorical question with a serious one’
My jaw set in frustration, “Not terribly. I haven’t felt sincere happiness in a very long time”
“That’s terrible! Why ever not?” She pressed, ignorant of or ignoring the malaise her line of questioning was affecting me with.
“Personal reasons. Very personal reasons” I cut her off as she was beginning to open her mouth, “One’s that I don’t feel like sharing with you”
“But how am I supposed to cheer you up if you don’t talk about what’s getting you down? That’s like trying to make Zapple cupcakes for the first time without looking at the instructions!" I didn’t even know that Zapples could be transformed into cupcakes.
I wanted to growl at her insistence, but she had a point, and I did promise to be more open with the important people in my life, “I am consistently told by my dad that genuine joy is a choice, and not just a reaction to your life’s circumstances. Naturally, I disagreed heavily with this. But how can I say that now? In my position I have no right to be unhappy at all. I have all my living necessities provided for by the Crown, I’m capable of things I could only dream of just months prior, and I have selfless people like you who want to see me happy!” I clutched at my temples and groaned in frustration, “I certainly didn’t choose to be miserable…so why can’t I choose to be joyous? What in the worlds is wrong with me?”
Pinkie had the good grace to remain silent while I vented some of my pent up stress. She spoke again after I spent a short while throwing a self directed temper tantrum.
“He’s not wrong” I looked up at her, “About joy being a choice. I want to tell you a little story, about a girl who was raised on a rock farm; although technically it was a flat quarry, but I’m sidetracking myself” She shook her head to refocus, "So this girl got up at the crack of dawn every day with her father and three sisters to go searching for rocks that could be sculpted or smelted into something valuable to sell at market. It was a drab place, with barely any colors beyond darks for miles! The work was intensive, and I got a sore back from lifting solid stones more times than I could count. But the worst part about it was that nobody smiled at all! It was just work by the sweat of your brow till the sun went down to make sure that food was on the table, and my parents never bought anything sweet to eat either” I guess that would explain why she consumes so many sweets today.
I kept quiet, letting her know that she had my undivided attention, “So one day I was finished combing in the south field and was preparing to rotate to the east field…when there was a sudden rainbow shockwave in the sky that blasted away the dreary cloud cover and made room for the sunlight. There were so many colors! Some of which I had only read about in books! Seeing them in person was on a whole new level though, and it inspired something in me that I had only felt the briefest instances of whenever my father told me and my sisters that we didn’t have to work that day…”
“Do you know what I felt was?” She asked, returning to the present time from whatever flashback she was envisioning.
“Indigestion?” I answered, tripping her up and make her laugh.
She recomposed herself after a few seconds, “No, you wacky wisecracker! It was joy. I realized at that moment that life wasn’t solely about subsisting…it was about living. But how well can you live if you don’t smile? And if you can’t share that feeling of joy with others and make them smile too?” I didn’t know that Pinkie could get so philosophical, but I guess there’s just as much that I don’t know about her than she does about me.
“Rainbow shockwaves that cause epiphanies don’t come along that frequently though, so I had to think of others ways to spread this new feeling in my heart, starting with my family first. So using all of the bits I had saved up in my allowance, I hitched a ride to market from a passing merchant’s wagon and made some purchases that I brought back to the farm. I spent all of my Sunday afternoon setting up the silo where we stored our special stones and invited my family to come see what the hubbub was about. At first I thought that they disapproved, but then they started smiling too! That was the day I got my Mana mark, further affirming that I had a mission to spread my joy to the world. I can’t force people to smile or be happy, but I can help them realize that they have a few things worth smiling for” She flashed me her hands, contentedly displaying the mark as proof of her life’s purpose.
Huh, well doesn’t that make you rethink your perspective?
“And that’s how Arcania was made!” She declared, derailing the profound mood in less than ten seconds flat.
“No it wasn’t” I blankly countered.
She held a hand to her lips and stifled a titter, “I know. Just checking to see if you were paying attention. You passed!”
“Yay me” I weakly waved my hands, “Can we get some sleep now?”
“I dunno…can you try to find your own happiness and smile someday?” She shot back without a trace of spite.
I lifted my back off the bed and faced her, holding up my littlest finger, “Pinkie Pie, I pinky promise you that I will try”
“…But that’s not the gesture you’re supposed to make…” Did she really not know that there is more than one variant?
“This is the only Pinky promise that I recognize as legitimate and contractual” I kept it held up for her to hook with hers. I wasn’t going to yield on this.
She eventually got the cue and entwined her pinky in mine, which I gave a firm shake as I made my vow to her. After that, I plopped back down on the sheets and Pinkie doused her oil lamp.
“Hey Pinkie?” I spoke into the darkness that was slightly palliated by the light of the moon.
“Yes Zenn- I mean, Zenith?” She corrected herself, remembering that she wasn’t a certain adventuress with me based privileges.
“Fair word of warning, I snore louder a freight train”
My deadpan delivery must have tickled her funny bone, because a paroxysm of guffaws was her only response as we turned in for the night.
I awoke instantly, a cold sweat covering my skin from my restlessness. I relaxed my rapid breathing until it was barely audible, being mindful of my bedmate (who was still smiling even in her sleep). I gently sat up and rubbed the remaining exhaustion out of my eyes, my mental faculties becoming more alert as I took in my surroundings. It was my assumption that it was the pre dawn hours of the morning, as little to no light was streaming in through the windows. I took a moment to recall the issue that led to my troubled sleep. My dreams were… harrowing, I suppose. Most of the details were hazy, but I distinctly remember them being filled with images of burning flames and ashes raining down from the blood red sky in clouds of tiny grey flecks, covering the landscape in a thick blanket of destruction and death.
The memory of the troubled dream itself wasn’t what was actually bothering me at that point, but more so the fact that Luna never showed up to dispel them with whatever magical dream mojo she uses. Granted, I could handle my own dreams just fine without the need for her vigil, but Luna didn’t seem like the type that shirked her duties. I shrugged it off after a brief stint of further reasoning. Maybe she was legitimately busy with night court this time, or was just really absorbed in that book that I fetched for her.
I examined myself and scowled at the moist feeling of clamminess on my neck and chest. My body might be a good deal stronger than it used to be not so long ago, but it still lacked the fortitude of my mind. I slowly shimmied out of bed with the utmost caution, taking care not to rouse the slumbering woman beside me, who was incoherently mumbling something in her sleep. Pinkie’s room (more of a loft really) was still well lit enough that I didn’t have to magically augment myself with night vision. As if to spite me, I stubbed my toe on the platform that Pinkie used to showcase her unique ‘talents’ to me yesterday; very nearly cursing up a storm and only just barely reigning in my righteous fury at the inanimate object. Once the pain subsided into a dull ache, I crept up the stairs using my fairly well leveled sneaking skill and towards the bathroom.
Once inside, I closed the door and let the knob gradually turn back with my hand on it, before grabbing a towel off the rack and overlaid the sill with it so I could flip on the lights without undue consequence. I wish I had some kind of cool story where I learned to utilize meticulous methods of stealth such as these… but sadly I don’t. I’m just naturally fastidious like that. I hit a switch and immersed the room in the warm yellow light coming from the fluorescent light bulbs dotting the mirror frame that was hanging over the sink. Question this land’s strange choosiness for technology all you want, but at least they had their priorities straight.
I twisted the hot water knob on the tub and began filling it with steaming hot water that quickly filled the rest of the bathroom with its vapors. After a moment of idle deliberation, I figured that I fancied myself a bubble bath and began pouring the concoction from the appropriately labeled container sitting next the sink into the tub and stirred it. Once the waters were of the appropriate temperature and sudsy enough, I ditched my clothes and settled in for a relaxing bath, kicking my feet up since the diminutive bathtub couldn’t fully accommodate my entire frame. This lounging was a little something that I hoped would get my mind off of the increasingly vivid flow of visceral memories that were becoming clearer the longer I laid there musing over it.
The way I saw it, that dream could have been one of two things: a run of the mill nightmare, in which case I dismiss it and continue with business as usual… or it was vision of things to come, in which case I needed to step up my apocalyptic scenario preparations. Given the last conversation I had with Celestia, I was reasonably inclined to believe that it was the latter of the two. I sighed from a mixture of worry and the after sleep exhaustion that still hadn’t fully dissipated from the edges of my sight. It was too early to be fretting over this crap, even something as mundane as a bubble bath was starting to seem more and more like a luxury I wouldn’t always be able to derive comfort from in the not so distant future.
I couldn’t find any kind of soap to rub myself down with, but I gathered from the fragrant smell of the bubble foam that it served a sanitary purpose alongside being delightful to one’s more juvenile interests. I allowed myself an extremely rare moment to drop my usual stoic expression and grin a bit at the leaning tower of bubbles I was constructing using a combination of magic and my own dexterous finger work. I idly wondered if Ditzy could manipulate bubbles with the same amount of skill, if not more so, if her Mana mark was any indication of her bubbly affinity.
I had to stifle a start when my left arm emerged from the spumy waters with a suds covered alligator attached to it.
“Jayzus!” I whisper-shouted at the currently wonky eyed reptile nibbling at me, “Don’t ambush a guy in the tub like that!”
He only blinked in response as he continued to gum my forearm six ways to Sunday. How the hell does he keep attaching himself to me without my notice?
I fake glared at the cheeky little bugger, “Back for another staring contest round?” He sluggishly (almost mockingly) blinked in what I could only interpret as an affirmative reply, “Alright” I narrowed my eyes at him, “But your mommy isn’t going to interfere this time”
And so I spent the next twenty minutes losing gratuitously to the adolescent alligator. That isn’t to say that it was a total landslide of victories for the mini croc. I did manage to break his first rate focus by subtly manipulating the bubbles around us to loudly pop at the most inopportune times. Still… Gummy was a heavyweight staring contest champion. Kind of like how the Mana Mark Maidens adulated Fluttershy’s ability to stay clam and quiet for hours on end whenever it was my turn to watch over them and their activities.
A sudden niggling sensation tickled at my extrasensory perceptions as a knocking on the door interrupted our fierce stalemate and jolted me into vacating the tub. I hurriedly dried off with the second towel on the rack after wiping away the leftover suds that were still clinging to my skin with a helpful application of magic. Loathe as I was to do it, I didn’t bring a second set of fresh clothes to change into, so I was forced to re-don my dirty ones. There was a second set of more rapid knocking that informed me that I should probably hurry up.
“Be there in a sec! Just hang tight!” I directed towards the door, making sure my unsightly and slightly shaggy hair was combed until I was somewhat presentable. I really needed to visit the local barber soon. It was unlike me to look so… unkempt.
I opened the door, seeing Pinkie standing in front of me looking bright eyed and bushy tailed (not that this was a big surprise). I neglected to mention this earlier, but her setting off my ‘radar’ as abruptly as she did was cause for some concern. The way I input the command into the passive detection spell, it was supposed to gradually track a person’s position and movement within a certain radius, which would increase as I poured more magic into the spell. Pinkie knocking at the door and setting off my spell when she did either meant that she was always there to do so, or that she was immediately there. Needless to say, both prospects were equally disturbing in nature to those who lacked the casual dismissal of impossible feats that being jaded affords.
“G’morning Zenith! Hope your dreams were as wonderful as mine!” Her voice was perky as always, and she was practically bouncing in place from excitement or an urge to pee.
“I’d be lying if I said they were” I answered truthfully, “Is there a prosaic reason for all of this energy? Or do you just really need to go?” I followed up, noting her jittery little dance.
She simpered sheepishly, “The latter. Although at first my achy shoulder woke me up, and that’s Pinkie code for an Alligator in the tub! But then I thought, ‘Gummy doesn’t like bathing alone’ so I went back to snoozing, hoping I could still catch the candy train before it left the station! So I couldn’t have been right, could I?” She held her head up in a questioning pose that accentuated her strange and naïvely innocent mind.
She was dreaming about candy trains while I envisioned the desolate aftermath of a great holocaust? Fortunate girl.
I rotated my neck around, peering back at the aforementioned Alligator who was currently watching us from beneath a canopy of bubbles, “Your uncanny intuition wasn’t wrong. I was enjoying a soothing soak in the tub when your precious pet decided that he wanted another taste of my arm” I explained, gesturing over my shoulder with a thumb.
She held a hand to her mouth and giggled, “Gummy’s just teething, there’s nothing to worry about”
I raised a skeptical brow, “And when he grows actual teeth after that?” I wouldn’t fail to notice his fondness of me then. Ouch.
Her amusement did not cease, “Don’t be silly Zenith! Then I would have to call him Toothy!”
‘May that day never come to pass’ I thought solemnly, just imagining all of the forearms that would be ravaged by his unstoppable lust for gnawing.
“Right…” I slid past her with the fluidity of liquid shadow, “Well, don’t let me keep you from answering the call of nature!”
I shut the door behind me with magic before she could get off another word. Rude of me perhaps, but my morning routine could do without her frenetic interloping. I may not have stressed it emphatically enough, but Pinkie Pie tried my patience the most out of the six element bearers. It’s not really any flaw of hers; it’s just that her mannerisms are all but antithetical to my own.
Whereas I was mostly quiet and reserved to the point of being an island, Pinkie was outgoing and extroverted to the extreme. I would keep my thoughts mostly to myself while she would impulsively act on hers. Heartfelt conversations aside, I was liable to grow weary of her constantly uplifted and happy go lucky presence if I stayed close by for too long. Her heart’s in the right place, and for that I’ll never fault her, but she needs to keep everything subdued or lessened around me if she’s to have any real chance of accomplishing her outlandish goal of getting me to smile with anything remotely resembling happiness.
On the other hand, if someone like Fluttershy can consider Pinkie to be a good friend, then maybe I could too in time. This supposition made me scowl in dismay, as the time for friendly association was a commodity that was going to be in terribly short supply in my future. It’s a real shame that when I finally realize that I should make it an effort to give this friendship thing a real chance at flourishing… I might not be present long enough to fully benefit from it. Celestia might not necessarily call me upon to serve the needs of the many right away, but I was going to be devoting much of my time to making certain of my preparedness for conflict.
Since I was deathly serious about this, it meant I was going to have to use the Twilight ™ readiness approach. This narrowly translated to reading up on Sun Tzu and von Clausewitz’s treatises on war and strategizing, upping my already vigorous practice sessions with my shadow sparring spell to hone my reaction times for dealing with multiple opponents up close at any given moment, as well as asking for regular updates on Arcania’s progress in the development of ordnance analogous to my world’s for the express purpose of its defense. I pondered all of this as I descended the stairs.
As a little bit of revenge for harming me earlier, I used my magic to roughly disassemble the pole dancing platform and unceremoniously shove the components into a closet that blended in with the wall so well that I wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for the doorknob shaped like a bicycle horn (it even honked when I gave it a squeeze, much to my silent mirth). I doubted that Pinkie would mind me being proactive with her stuff, since I also doubted that she was up for giving me a second demonstration of just how flexible she was. Was it even possible to displease a woman like her? I’d likely have to be a real jerk-ass in order to get on her bad side. Albeit a certain Gryphondrian Princess comes to mind if I’m not mistaken about the previous happenings in this land.
‘I’d never picture Gilda as the Princess type. Then again, this world seems to be chock full of unexpected oddities’
I contemplated my next choice of action. I could slink back into the sheets like a lazy ass sod (although I wasn’t really in the mood to risk the onset of any more foul dreams), wait for Pinkie to finish answering the call of nature and see what she wanted with me (also an unappealing option), or I could go to the kitchen and fix myself some brecky. I promptly slapped myself on the forehead once I realized that I had forgotten to eat the candied bacon that I baked yesterday. I desperately prayed that the Cakes wouldn’t toss out my beloved bacon, not after all of the tender love and care that I put into its preparation. It’s likely that they didn’t let anything go to waste (not if Mrs. Cake’s… generousness was anything to go by).
It was not much of a contest, with me selecting the third path right off the bat. I quietly egressed the confines of Pinkie’s bedroom loft and moved furtively down to the second floor and passed the room where the Cakes slept and the nursery where the infants dreamed happily. I absently wondered why each of their doors were left open before realizing that the children probably woke in middle of the night and raised hell just like any other newborns. I felt immense pity for the parents for the day when their little Angels reached the terrible twos. It also aroused in me certain doubts about my own competence to raise offspring in an effective and nurturing manner.
I softly snorted in a self derisive way, ‘Look at me, referring to one’s own flesh and blood with cold and clinical terms like offspring. I can already tell I’m going to be a wonderful father some day’ Thankfully I hadn’t reached a stage in any of my multiple relationships where physical intimacy would bear fruit. And if I had my way, it would remain like that for the duration of the foreseeable future.
I reached the dimly lit kitchen without incident and began rummaging around for my leftovers. Incredibly, the baked goods that I created yesterday were saran wrapped and clumped together on an open counter in anticipation for the bake sale that was scheduled to happen some time today. I keep finding innovations like that and I’m going to have to reevaluate where Arcania stood on the technological development scale. Seriously, their armed forces aren’t developed much beyond sixteenth century standards (with the exception of their air fleet) and yet their civilians have access to a wide array of technology laying somewhere between the nineteenth and twentieth century in complexity. I would rage further at the infuriating discrepancies here, but it was going to have to be put on hold, for I found the bacon nestled in one of the refrigerator drawers.
I took out the whole tray and set it down on a flat surface free of any kitchen clutter and enveloped it in my magical aura before creating a thermic field to reheat my food, because the one thing that this mystifying world seemed to lack was a microwave oven. I let the bacon cook until it reached desirable levels of warmth and began to smell heavenly again. I debated over whether I should eat the entire tray’s worth of swine flesh or save some for the others. It was of my own making and that technically made it mine by right, but it was also made using the Cake family’s materials and they might want a bite. I decided on horking down three quarters of the victuals and saving the rest for my temporary hosts.
I ate standing up without any worries about my caloric intake. If Celestia could help herself to as many pastries as she does and still keep a trim figure (she’s got a plump posterior though. Just saying!), then I had little to fear of anything I put into my stomach adding to its slim girth. I know it’s not very manly of a dude to show any kind of concern over the things that he puts in his gullet, but I’m just stating the facts here. I was happily munching away at my food when Pinkie once again graced me with her cheerful presence.
“Hey Zenith, why’d you disappear like that? I was worried that I might have said something wrong and made you run off” Her smile waned just a fraction of an inch before realigning itself, not a reaction a more observant person like myself could miss even if they had a blindfold on.
‘A little bit insecure isn’t she?’ There’s something oddly unnerving about an unhappy Pinkie Pie. I’d have to dispel her fears before they manifested themselves again later at an inconvenient time.
“Goodness gracious no!” I quickly dismissed her notion, “I was just obeying the demands of my stomach. I apologize if I made it seem as if I was giving you the slip” I said as I bit down on a still tender strip of meat, savoring the salty sweet flavor.
Her few unraveled hairs re-curled themselves, a bizarre sight to witness, “Ah, I see. And apology accepted! Mind if I join ya?” She requested, to which I answered with a brief nod to the spot next to me.
She assembled her own breakfast in the simple form of toast and a carton of milk, then she put a weird spin on it by pouring a dollop of dairy on it; not enough for any to spill over, but enough to cover it to the crust.
She noticed me staring strangely at her, “What? Never seen someone cover their toast in milk?”
I raised a critical brow, “Can’t say I have. Why are you doing that, if I may ask?”
She shrugged and bit into her meal, “I threw a ‘Just passing by’ welcome party for a businessman from the capital a few days back. He told me that he was thankful for the thoughtful gesture, but was too milk toast to really enjoy it”
She chuckled a little as she chewed, “I mean, who puts milk on their toast? Butter I can understand, but dairy in liquid form? That just doesn’t make any sense to me. But as Rarity likes to say, ‘Sadly, there isn’t any accounting for taste’ or something like that, so I’m trying it out for myself!” Her impression of Rarity’s voice was scarily accurate, even getting the fashionista’s subtlest inflections down pat.
The idea of her possibly being a changeling was instantly thrown out the window, since I knew her earlier warping stunt without giving off any hint of power was impossible through magical means. Plus her eyes held no sign of hidden trickery whatsoever, and a person’s eyes reflect what’s buried in their soul. It was exceedingly obvious that Pinkie wears her heart on her sleeve openly… and last I heard, there was no such thing as a self sufficient emotivore. Hmm… I’d have to remember to also devise additional ways of unmasking changelings in the possible event that I meet any.
I almost chuckled myself once I put the pieces together, “I think what that man meant was that he was too milquetoast to get the most out of a social function focused solely on him. In other words, he was too demure to have so many eyes on him” I explained for her.
“OH…” She said after finishing her unorthodox breakfast, “Then why didn’t he just say that?”
I huffed before coming up with an explanation, “Likely because the vast majority of Concordians are a well spoken lot that are inclined to use a panoply of eloquent and fanciful words in their colloquies, often to hide their personal flaws from their peers in order to save face” I ate slowly, wanting to make this blessed food last as long as it could.
“Like you just did?” She countered with a slight titter.
“Yes, well… I sometimes like to showcase the fact that I am an erudite fellow who possesses a manifold of terms in his wide ranging vocabulary. Though unlike that pretentious rabble fussing over their social status up on the hill, I am not ashamed to admit that I have my fair share of flaws” I pride myself on humility, ironic as that sounds.
She got up to put her plate in the sink, “You shouldn’t be so quick to poke holes in yourself Zenith. It makes me feel as you don’t value your strengths over your weaknesses”
I shook my head, “I never implied anything of the sort. I just don’t make it a habit to laud my overall aptitude publicly. In my opinion, if you have something to be proud of, that’s great. But you shouldn’t flaunt it like it’s going out of style. Nobody likes a braggart, even when they can back up their words with actions”
“Does that mean that you don’t like Rainbow Dash then? She likes to do that sometimes” She pointed out, twisting the knob and grabbing hold of a retractable sink nozzle before thoroughly washing her dish of crumbs.
“The keyword being sometimes, Pinks. I’m able to tolerate a mild braggart when they have other redeeming values, and Rainbow has plenty of them” For instance, I doubted that many of her friends, beyond Fluttershy perhaps, knew about her being somewhat of a daddy’s girl. A secret that I found quite touching by the way, especially with how sensitive she was about it. However, it would be bad form to simply bring that up in conversation, doubly so behind her back.
I concluded my meal and handed the tray to Pinkie, who graciously washed it for me. She then went on to clean all the other soiled dishes that the Cakes weren’t able to get to after we went clubbing at Vinyl’s, guilt tripping me into drying them by remarking about how tired the married couple dozing upstairs looked. I didn’t mind getting roped into kitchen duty, since it was still too dark for me to do anything outside.
To pass the time, Pinkie related to me the story of how she stumbled across an enchanted reflecting pool that her nana told her about which created visually identical copies of the one who recited a special set of words and took a dip in the cool waters. As was to be expected, Pinkie then took it a bit too far and cloned multiple copies of herself so she could avoid having to choose between which of her friends to spend time with when all of them were doing their own individual thing. The clones themselves were not perfect copies of her (It’s my belief that they lacked her one of a kind soul), but they did have her excessively energetic spirit in common, which they subsequently used to wreak havoc all across town.
Her friends eventually had enough of the hyperactive craziness and decided to round all of them up inside of the town hall, where Twilight would cast a spell that would send them back to the source from which they sprang. Unfortunately, the spell wasn’t designed with discernment in mind, so it had the potential to axe the real Pinkie as well. To prevent such an outcome from occurring, Pinkie’s friends devised a series of tests that would sift through the crowd until their real friend could be found. Pinkie solemnly admitted to me that she had a severe moment of weakness where she actually doubted if she even was the real one, and she sank into a depression filled with self doubt about her true self. For some reason, her friends decided that such behavior was unlike her, and at first discounted her as being the lighthearted friend that they knew and loved.
“That was a serious mistake on their part if you ask me” I interjected, drying out the inside curvature of a metal mixing bowl.
“How? It was unlike me to be so down in the dumps” Pinkie said, not seeing past the surface of the point that I was trying to make.
“Your friends weren’t thinking deeply enough. Tell me, how many of your doppelgangers acted the same as you did at the time?” I asked without making eye contact. Eyes on the prize is something of an operating policy of mine, keeps distractions to a minimum while maximizing efficiency. I did keep my peripherals on the woman though.
She tilted her head to the side in recollection, “None. Each of them was a bouncing chatterbox that just wouldn’t shut up” She scowled, as if introspecting about how grating she could be to herself.
I resisted the urge to chortle. Pinkie realizing just how much her overly gregarious mannerisms could wear down on one’s nerves from her own perspective was rather amusing to see.
“Exactly. You were the deviation from the norm. And if there’s anything I know that Pinkamena Diane Pie excels at, it’s going against the norm. Even if that norm is her own bubbly self” I’m a little disappointed that the friends who have known her for years couldn’t recognize that.
“Wow! I’ve never thought of that before. But please, stick to calling me Pinkie. Only my parents and my sisters have ever referred to me by my full name. How’d you know about that anyway?” Her eyes narrowed as she questioned me, and I mentally slapped myself for slipping up again.
I kept a cool expression as I placed the bowl back in its appropriate cabinet, “I’ve read your profile. There is plenty of documentation back at the palace that detailed the six young women who I’d be spending some time around, I merely read up on all of you so I’d get a better idea of who’d be teaching me all about the wonders of friendship”
That wasn’t a complete lie. I knew for a fact that one of Discord’s duties was presiding over the archives that contained data about all of the Kingdom’s inhabitants (which he mostly used to come up with tailor made pranks for the nobility. Something I would never hold against him, even though Celestia disapproved most heartily of turning their business ties into rabid, hissing snake like creatures mid court).
She seemed satisfied with this answer, “Okie Dokie!” before handing me more dishes to dry.
Though a sigh escaped her before long, “Speaking of friends, Twilight’s been acting funny. And not the ‘ha ha’ funny that brings smiles to people’s faces. She’s been locking herself up in that musty library of hers all week, hardly saying two words to anyone!”
“That bad huh?” I dryly commented, while struggling to slip the towel in between the loops of a whisk.
“Worse. I tried surprising her with anti moping cupcakes, and she told me that such a gesture was ‘quaint, but ultimately ineffectual’ before tossing me out with her magic and erecting a selective barrier that would repel me around the library. Rude much?” She said in a jesting tone.
She tried masking her distress with humor, but I could tell that the hurt was still there. Though I must agree with her assessment. That was pretty rude. I personally would have eaten the cupcakes first, thanked her for making them… and then tossed her out. I can have atrocious manners, but at least I’m honest with myself. What Twilight is doing with her listlessness is a mockery of all that I signify.
I laid a comforting hand on Pinkie’s shoulder as she leaned against the sink in dejection, “I’ll have some words with her later, Pinkie. If she proves resistant, I have a few ways of countering being kicked to the curb with magic” Heck, I could probably dismantle most defensive wards she could put up by simply overloading their thaumatic lattice with raw magic. The backlash would likely give me a migraine, but the metaphorical walls of Jericho would come crashing down.
She looked pleadingly at me, “Promise?”
I held up my pinky in an echo of last night’s vow, “I pinky swear”
She smiled nice and bright as she hooked fingers with mine, “Thanks Zenith. You’re a good friend”
“So I am” I replied neutrally as we resumed working in tandem.
I waited until our task was finished before popping a question of my own, “What specific time is Celestia scheduled to arrive?”
Pinkie placed an index finger on her chin in remembrance, “Hmm… the missive said to expect her sometime after midday. I do hope she likes what we’ve made!” She hopped in place excitedly.
Midday huh? That gave me plenty of free time before then to get a morning walk in. Normally I’d make it a morning flight, but there were too many eyes to risk it. Being a secret Trifect does have its drawbacks as I’ve mentioned before.
“She’s not terribly picky. As long as it’s sweet and hand made from her subjects and friends, she’ll be pleased with what we’ve made” I assured her. Celestia was the type of woman one could easily appease if they appealed to her sweet tooth.
Pinkie spoke up as I made for the exit, “Aww… you’re leaving? Don’t you want to sing a good morning ditty to the twins with me?” She all but begged me to reconsider using her fierce puppy eyes.
“Not particularly, no” I responded curtly on the way out. I was in no mood to be around mischievous little toddlers, let alone sing to them.
The Sun was only just starting to peek out from beyond the mountain range to the east, bathing the valley in its warm rays. The air was fairly nippy, and each exhale presented itself in vaporous form. It wasn’t quite cold enough to make me consider changing into more suitable winter wear (and it would take some seriously cold temperatures to wear down my natural Valkyrian weather resistance). I rubbed my hands together and breathed into them before setting off in a random direction, mostly for acting’s sake. I figured that a thirty minute circle about the town would be enough to abate my urge to wander.
Sadly, I wasn’t the only early riser up and about. Since Sunday was a market day, folks were busy setting up shop at their storefronts or loading up horse drawn carts to truck their goods to the town square. A fair few of the ladies recognized my face and began chattering amongst themselves and pointing in my direction. I honed in on their conversations using my enhanced auditory sensitivity to see what the reasons for all this attention were.
“…Is that who I think it is?...” Said one woman with two toned peach colored hair.
“…It can’t be him could it? The Red eyed Rogue?...” Whispered another one to my left.
I rolled my eyes, ‘Yet another title I did nothing to earn’
“…Must be a look alike. There’s no way such a dreamy gentleman would reside in a backwater village like Magiville…”
‘Yes, please sow the seeds of doubt within your feminine ranks. The less people noticing me, the better’ Knowing my fortunes, it was highly unlikely.
A gasp, “…His eyes are red! It’s really him girls!...” It didn’t take long for the rest to confirm it. And for the tiniest of moments… I bemoaned having such distinguishable crimson irises. They slowly began to gang up on me in typical fan girl fashion.
‘Crap. I knew I’d regret modeling for those damnable magazines!’ I swiftly adjusted my course and hightailed it down an alleyway between a grocer’s and another retail oriented building, a small mob of women hot on my trail.
My star struck pursuers weren’t all that numerous and were too tunnel visioned to notice that the figure that they were chasing was a simple illusion that would dissipate once it turned the corner. The sound of multiple footfalls against gravel passed by me as I blended in completely with the darkness. I waited until the alleyway was clear before emerging from the shadows between two sets of open crates.
I huffed irritably, ‘What the hell did they even want with me? An autograph?’ It’s like being a member of a boy band or something, I swear.
My idea of morning exercise did not include being nearly run down by women who kept up with the trends. In fact, why were they even reading men’s fashion magazines anyway? I shivered as some less than savory ideas graced my thoughts. I could hear the girls muttering confusedly amongst themselves in the distance before they split up to check every nook and cranny to see where I hid myself from them.
I growled at this setback, they would probably take the better part of a half hour before giving up. So I’d have to lie low someplace that they were unlikely to scrutinize. The back of my head thunked against the stucco like walls as I considered what to do. Where could I tuck away until they let up in their ridiculous search? The creaking of a wooden sign wobbling in the wind tickled at my hearing and stimulated my thought processes. I suppose I could duck inside one of the shops and pretend to browse until the coast was clear again. I clandestinely rounded the corner twice (staying mindful of any lookouts) and snuck inside the building, the bell above the door jingling noisily as it announced my entry.
The smell of leather mixed with ink greeted my nose, bringing back nostalgic memories of when I used to duel imaginary opponents in my grandfather’s study. Once the nostalgia wore off, I took a long look at the interior of the store. Rows upon rows of sofas lay side by side in neatly oriented columns, selling tags (of reasonable prices) hanging by a string at their sides. Upholstery wasn’t the only item dominating the inventory though, as Feather quills of many shades and hues were piled together in little cubbyholes that were marked with color coded paper. Light was from outside was still a little scarce, so lamps hanging from the ceiling provided most of the illumination. This wasn’t a large store by any means, only about thirty by twenty feet in size, but it made the most out of its space by incorporating modularization that you might find in an Ikea. It didn’t take long for me to realize that I was inside of Magiville’s own Quills & Sofas.
“Greetings valued customer! Welcome to Quills and Sofas and Pens… although that last one is a fairly recent addition” Davenport said with a chuckle as he came out of a stockroom carrying a wooden box filled with what I could only assume were more writing utensils. His appearance was more or less the same from when I first met him, save for a metallic nametag piece that now had an additional letter. It read ‘Q & S & P’ in fancy golden cursive.
His eyes widened once he realized that I was no ordinary customer, “Well if it isn’t my adventitious business partner Zenith! What brings you to my humble shop?” He interrupted before I could answer, “No wait! It must be your overwhelming curiosity to know how productive your investment has proven so far” He set his cargo down on the selling counter.
He tapped the box that he was still palming in his hands with a smile, “If you’ll pardon the expression, they’ve been selling like the local bakery’s choice hotcakes! People just love having such a compact portable writing device that phases out the need to carry along an ink well. I’ve already had to put in a few more orders from my suppliers to keep up with demand!” He jovially said to me. Which was funny, since I was the only other occupant who was in the store (and hopefully it would stay that way until I could evade my admirers).
“I’m… pleased to hear that they’ve been so well received” It’s about damn time these Philistines modernized the tools that they used to inscribe with!
He seemed off put by my typical lackluster reaction, “Come now my good lad! You really must show some more enthusiasm for your own success. Your investment has more than quintupled its value and brought all sorts of business back to my store! I’ve even made fountain pens a permanent fixture in my wares!” He insisted, tapping his newly etched tag for emphasis.
“Then why isn’t it just Pens & Sofas on the sign?” I calmly retorted, taking one of the pens out of the box and examining its smooth metal construction of the nib and ink feed. Arcanians were quick to adapt some style into their reverse engineering I see. Still, did they really have to rewind the clock back a century? I gave them a ball point pen to work with for crying out loud!
He scoffed at this, “Just because these newfangled self contained ink quills are rising in popularity doesn’t mean that I’m going to just stop selling something I’ve been peddling for years. There’s always going to be a need for feathered pens my friend” He folded his arms together in textbook repudiation of my implication that half of his merchandise was obsolete.
‘Sounds like denial to me’ I sarcastically observed. But I was here to wait out my pursuers, not convince my impromptu business partner that ink quills were a thing of the past.
“Not to mention that regular ink quills can come in a variety of colors, unique species of avian they were plucked from, and can double as a means of tickle torture for the little ‘uns!” He listed off, defending his old pride and joy to the last.
I held up my hands in a gesture of placation, “Alright alright, there’s no need to be so touchy about it… although, pens can also come in a sundry array of colors” I shrugged off his light glare, “Just saying”
He cut to the point, “I’m assuming you’ll be wanting in on your share of the profits? Let me just go open up my strongbo-” I stopped him by tugging on his shirt with my magic and shaking my noggin at him.
“I’m not here to collect on anything. Just checking in really. Keep on investing my share where it is” I spared a glance outside the window to see if my path was free again. A woman with fuchsia locks of hair was just outside the store keeping her head on a swivel, forcing me to duck back lest I be spotted.
Davenport seemed to notice my unease, “Problems with a lady friend?” He heartlessly chortled at my somewhat precarious position.
“More like multiple ladies, though I wouldn’t call any of them friends” I corrected, not finding anything funny about my lack of anonymity in the present time. Oh why did I have to get roped into being the fashion world’s latest star slash chew toy?
Davenport raised an inquisitive brow, “And just why are they after you?” He asked, shifting his weight forward in an unconscious expression of his nosiness.
I sighed and looked at him, “Do you keep up with the latest fashion trends or read any men’s dress magazines?” He shook his head in the negative, “Well I somehow got into a situation where two of the capital’s top fashion photographers were jockeying for a photo shoot session with me. They managed to both get what they wanted, and now I’m on the cover image of two rather prestigious magazines. Any woman who reads that pretentious stuff is going to recognize me from a country mile away and pester me for whatever reason she deems fit. My privacy in public is essentially dead as long as there are subscribers to those two magazines”
I held a hand against my temple as I felt a slight headache coming on just from talking about it, “I’ll have to either disguise myself from now on, or wait until the next issue comes out and have some of the heat taken off of me” I hoped that they updated those magazines weekly.
Davenport sported an impressed look on his face, “Can’t say I’ve ever experienced such a confounding conundrum. You must lead a mighty interesting life, Zenith” He remarked, making light of my misfortunes.
I groaned in frustration, “Wishing someone an interesting life is considered to be a curse where I come from” I informed him with an annoyed tone.
“I meant nothing by it. In fact… I’m even a little bit jealous” He stated.
I shot him an incredulous look, “Really? And why would that be?” Nobody should be envious of most of the crap I put up with.
He outstretched his arms in reference to himself, “Well look at me Zenith. Do I seem like the type who can step outside his door and suddenly be enveloped in an adventure? Even if that current adventure is merely being chased around town by lovely if not overeager young women?”
‘Not at first glance, no’ I conceded with a thought.
“Believe me when I tell you that it’s overrated” I deadpanned before adding further, “Adventure can be fine and dandy in its own right, but normalcy is needed for a healthy and balanced lifestyle” I gestured outside with a thumb, where a woman was literally scraping out barrels in her desperation, “This. This is well beyond any semblance of normalcy”
“Oh, but what I wouldn’t give just to trade places with someone like you! Just for a day! Nobody pays any mind to ol’ Davenport aside from a need for ink and upholstery!” He dramatically spouted, completely disregarding the point that I just made. Though that did give me an idea to work with.
“You really want to trade places with me huh?” He nodded with an anxious but hopeful smile, “I think we can work out an arrangement of sorts. But you’ll have to close up shop for the rest of the day” I lay down my condition.
He froze up at this stipulation, “But what about my business? The Golden Oak library is supposed to take delivery of this entire container of pre paid pens! I can’t just leave my shop unattended” Only then did I notice the paper detailing said order jutting out of a gap between the small wooden planks of the box.
I set a new destination on my itinerary, “I’ll deliver it to them in person then. Meanwhile you’ll be living out a small portion of my life, and both of us get what we want. You: attention, me: metaphorically muddied waters. Satisfied?”
He mulled it over for a minute before tentatively agreeing, “Alright. But just how do you intend that we trade places?” I was wondering when he was going to ask.
“Magic” Was my one word answer. At his look of confusion, I decided to clarify my response a little further, “Illusion magic to be precise. I’ll cast a spell on you that will alter your facial appearance to temporarily match mine. I can charge it with enough juice to last a full twenty four hours as agreed” Then he can be chased by starry eyed women to his heart’s content. The perfect decoy for me to slip by unnoticed, for at least a day’s worth of reprieve.
“But I’m a good deal shorter in stature to you. Won’t people detect a discrepancy there?” He had a point. I had a good head and a half height advantage over the businessman, who was roughly average in that category.
‘I keep growing and I’ll be a giant compared to these people’ I noiselessly groused. My own body wanted me to stick out like a sore thumb it seemed.
I was unconcerned by his reasonable indication, “Not really. The majority of the pictures I took with Photo Finish and Picture Perfect were from the waist up. Most folks shouldn’t be able to tell the difference” It’s all about the facial features in this superficial world, something that’s only magnified in the grand capital.
Davenport looked impressed, “Wow! I’m not big on the fashion scene, but even I know that those names carry some weight. I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity!” He said with utmost excitement, the gullible fool.
‘You’ll change your tune before long’ I thought pessimistically.
“Are you certain you want to do this? Because I won’t go through the trouble of undoing the spell after I cast it” Illusion magic of this caliber was firmly in the middle tier of casting complexity and difficulty. This wasn’t just a trick of the light or anything mundane like that. I was actually going to be molding his face to match mine.
He took off his blue vest, leaving only his white collared shirt on, “I haven’t done something this exciting since the days of my youth, Zenith” He approached me, “Come fortune or calamity, I’m frankly beyond giving a damn at this point. Hit me” He all but commanded.
I grinned deviously and brought a fist charged with magic back, “Very poor choice of words, Davenport” His expression was like that of a deer in headlights before my knuckles collided with his forehead.
The man went down with a small thudding sound as he fell against his register counter. I winced at my own ludicrously augmented strength yet another time. I only put enough motion into it to tap the guy, and he reacted about as well as if he took a solid knockout blow from Mike Tyson. I shrugged to myself dismissively. At least his ears were still intact.
I leaned down to make sure I hadn’t done any permanent damage and received a labored groan in return from the unconscious man when I prodded him in the shoulder (the old, tried, and true ‘poke it with a stick to see if it’s alive’ method). It was probably for the best that he wasn’t conscious for this, since his countenance resembled fresh clay at this time. For some reason, my mind was drawing a parallel to an episode of Spongebob where Squidward became handsome by having a door slammed in his face. Not to say that I was heaping praise on my own dashing looks, but you know what I mean.
Davenport’s facial profile began reacting to the magic as it crumpled and mashed together before gradually filling in again until it matched my own image. It would have been mildly unnerving to watch someone else’s face do such a close impersonation of dancing flubber, had I not been the deliberate caster. Mercifully, there was no one else around to bear witness to Dave’s indignation of having an expression with the flabby consistency of jelly.
It took about five minutes for the transformation to complete and another ten minutes for the hapless man to wake up. I took the initiative to flip the ‘Sorry, we’re closed!’ sign over the door in case anybody got any funny ideas about buying furniture at this hour. Another strained groan escaped his throat as he opened his now reddened eyes and blinked at me.
“Huh… Wha-?” He struggled to form a coherent sentence.
‘I didn’t knock the sense out of him did I?’ I drily thought.
“I’m approximately eighty percent certain on what you’re probably going to ask first” I cut in, “So I beat you to the punch (‘no pun intended’), and brought this for you” I held out a small pocket mirror that I found in one of the counter drawers (plausible for making sure his teeth were clear of any leftovers before tending to customers). Davenport caught his reflection and rubbed at his eyes, as if making sure he wasn’t dreaming it up.
“By the Sun and Moon! I look a good decade and a half younger!” He exclaimed, taking the mirror out of my hands and standing up in a wobbly motion. I felt that I should take that as a compliment. Davenport couldn’t have been far into his thirties.
He then remembered how I made this all possible and stared disapprovingly at me, “Did you necessarily have to punch me to make it work though?” He massaged at his sore noggin, “That really smarts you know?”
I held my arms up in an apathetic gesture, “Well what more did you expect from me? I’m not a plastic surgeon. I applied my magic directly to the forehead as I should have” How many times do I have to repeat this? Magic is more efficient when in direct contact with its intended target. Criticize my methods if you must, but don’t disregard the results.
“Well… I did ask for it” He admitted before grumbling, “Not that I expected you interpret that in the strictest sense” I resisted the urge to snicker. So that’s what I look like when I’m scowling.
“Oh boo hoo, allow me to play you a sad tune on the world’s smallest imaginary violin! With some dubstep thrown in for good measure…’ I smirked to myself, remembering some of the sick sounds that Vinyl’s bass cannons pumped out the previous night.
Of course, that also brought to mind how flirtatious she was when she said goodbye to me, which bugged me for a few reasons. I was already dating her old academy roommate (a little bit of info that I withheld from the DJ, to prevent things from getting awkward) and wasn’t very interested in adding her to the list of romantic interests. I’d put her down on the Fembro list any day though. Still… this inexplicable animal magnetism that women in this world feel towards me is more of a bane than a blessing in my opinion. My current state of affairs being a worthy case in point.
“Wait… my voice is still the same” He said aloud. Finally became aware of that, did he?
“So?” I droned back with an eye roll. I smacked him with a simplistic spell that morphed only his face… not a Polyjuice potion.
“So… I’m not able to replicate that monotonous and enigmatic dry timbre of yours. Anyone who even remotely knows you will instantly be able to tell that something is amiss” He brought up his latest concern. Assuming they can overlook the physical disparity first, he might have a point there.
“Then it’s a good thing that very few people in this town remotely know me or my speaking habits” I countered, “Just avoid attending the bake sale at Sugarcube Corner come midday and all will be well”
“Damn” Davenport murmured, “No hotcakes for me today then”
“Indeed” I humorously concurred. Who in their right mind ate pancakes in the afternoon anyway? And why would Sugarcube Corner even sell breakfast food beyond morning hours?
He made for the backroom again, “Well, I should probably go and close up sho-”
“I already did it for you” I brusquely interrupted as I grabbed the container filled with fountain pens before nudging Davenport in the direction of the door, “Remember to act natural. And if anygirlie asks what Photo Finish and Picture Perfect were like in person, just mention that they’re Sturmfolk with a fearsome grudge against each other and that should both entertain and deceive them into thinking that you’re the real deal”
He was practically shivering in anticipation, “Oh this is going to be so stimulating!” I found his excitement to be charming, but misplaced. Albeit, he wasn’t incorrect in assuming that his day would be captivating.
I magicked the door open and gently pushed Davenport through the aperture, “Go get ‘em tiger. Remember not to do anything I wouldn’t do!” I called after him as he strode confidently down the street. I wouldn’t want him using his new looks as an excuse to get some action, that would doubtlessly come back to bite me in the ass. I then waited patiently for him to vanish from sight as my cue to go.
Not a minute later, a loud shout of, “He’s over here girls!” was heard, along with a sound like that of stampeding footsteps. Word must have spread among the larger female population in town that there was a fashion celebrity in their midst.
‘Sucker’ I thought as I chose the opposite direction towards the local library with my newfound cargo in tow.
I wasn’t taking any chances with my own identity however, and cast a low level perception filter charm on myself. Anyone who gazed in my general vicinity wouldn’t see anything of interest and would go back to what they were doing. I’d disenchant myself (‘Heh’) once actual socialization became a must, but until then I was going to roll with this new pseudo invisibility cloak.
I had a look around to see if my spell was working. People were milling about their business as was per usual. Some would occasionally turn their gaze my way, but would otherwise ignore my existence. I heaved a short sigh of relief. I never thought I’d think this, but it was good to feel commonplace again, even if it came at the expense of a mental tug every time my magic was drained from an observer looking at me for any amount of time greater than a couple seconds.
I reached the front step of the Magiville library without incident and deposited the box filled with pens on the welcome mat before knocking on the door loudly enough for it to be clearly audible to anyone inside (provided that neither Twilight nor Spike were encapsulated in a sound proof bubble). I begrudgingly dropped my self enchantment and turned away before picking a random destination to head towards, as I didn’t really feel like risking Twilight opening the door. This was partly because I felt partially at fault for her atypical behavior, and partly because I was still having some difficulties repressing the memory of her unwanted trespass in the very core of my being.
The morning was still quite young, and I intended to get the most out of it before meeting Celestia at the bake sale and together confronting Twilight’s newly developed acedia afterwards. I figured that I would let her mentor who she’s known most of her life do ninety percent of the talking and emotional support while I followed up with the assurance that everything would work out fine. I thought long and hard about what I would say to her to repair the rift between us and put this whole ordeal to rest. I had a few rhetorical points to lead with, but they sounded as distant and aloof as Twilight was acting, so those had to be trashed. I grit my teeth in anger that was directed mostly at myself, why did I have to be so bad at this empathy thing? It’s not that I was completely unwilling to forgive her for her well intentioned mistake, but I just couldn’t find it in me to sympathize with her because of that very mistake.
The sound of someone whistling for my attention broke me out of my brooding. I turned in place to face the source of the disturbance and found the vendor of a cart with glass casing and various sweets inside motioning for me to come near. He was dressed in an all white uniform with black trim that reminded me of an ice cream truck driver, only his products weren’t dairy based. There was nothing about this person and he looked harmless enough, so I obliged his wordless request.
He held out what appeared to be a freshly dipped caramel apple, “For you, mister. Courtesy of someone who wishes for their identity to remain undisclosed. Though they didn’t word it quite as eloquently as I did” The vendor said with a vaguely Concordian drawl, something of random note to me.
I accepted the apple gingerly, “I should feel worried that they know about my mild weakness for caramel…” I weakly jested, mostly to burn time with idle chitchat. I meanwhile kept a watchful eye on my environment, wary of some kind of trickery at play. People don’t just hand you free caramel apples without there being some kind of ulterior motive, and that’s not just my infinitely cynical side speaking.
“I doubt that they were aware of that vulnerability, they seemed a bit too edgy to be the cool and composed type” He remarked on the side. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough of a description for an identification to be deduced.
“And what else did they seem to be, might I ask?” I probed, scanning for any anomalies on the ground level. Nothing suspicious stood out. Just a current of people flowing up and down the road. If I kept a low profile and avoided drawing any attention to myself, I might stay naturally incognito this time too.
“They seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. Though they did pay well for my discretion on this matter” He said with a rumbly chuckle. I resisted a disappointed groan upon hearing that. So much for milking clues about my benefactor from him.
“Well, I’ll thank you in their stead then” I nodded my farewell and continued down the street, seeing the ‘crowned roofs’ of the Magiville spa not far in the distance.
I took a crunchy bite out of my snack and instantly stopped moving, nearly causing one man to walk into me (which he actually apologized in passing for, before going around me). I sluggishly glanced down at the bite sized indentation I made in my food and discovered that this ‘apple’ had layers… and tasted heavily of onion. I swore I could hear hearty snickering coming from somewhere above me as I stood there in the middle of the street like I had just been pantsed.
‘Holy… macaroons. How did they know that I love caramelized onions!?’ I thought as I devoured the rest of the sugary onion with ravenous fervor. This was obviously a prank of sorts. Too bad the joke was on the prankster.
I licked my fingers clean of residual caramel and flicked the popsicle stick into the nearest rubbish bin. My satisfaction was followed by an almost comical belch that I politely covered up with a fist for propriety’s sake. Humming with delight, I set a course towards the spa, although it wasn’t the building in question that I was aiming for (not that I didn’t want to spend some two on one time with the twins), but more for the building that had a roof shaped like a jester’s hat just across the road from it. It was the place where Pinkie got most of her party supplies (as well as prank material) if what she told me was to be believed.
I secretly activated my proximity detection spell and set it to include everything within a spherical diameter. The results came through about the same as one would expect, with plenty of people on the groundside near me and one or two infrequent blips above the surface. However, it was the blip that strayed just above me to the left that was the most intriguing to me. A tight grin adorned my face as I considered this. Most people never bother to look up when checking for threats, but in my case I didn’t need to. The aforementioned blip was drifting too slowly to be a passing Valkyrian and was matching my pace.
Now if that doesn’t scream suspicious, I don’t know what does. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that someone Skyborn who knew me was stalking my every move using one of the free floating clouds that hung only a few hundred feet off of the ground. Normally, the local weather team could be seen darting about the sky and breaking them apart, but that was usually scheduled during late morning hours.
I narrowed down my list to exclude the many Valkyrian girls who talked (and often flirted) with me at my welcome party, until only those who I interacted with on a more interpersonal level remained. That left Fluttershy and… my shoulders slumped as I reviewed the only other candidate.
‘Rainbow Dash’ What was that tomboy following me around for? Was she the one behind the caramel onion? I ought to thank her for that delightful tasting treat… but how would I do that properly?
I peered back to the jester cap building and was struck with inspiration. Surely they must have some merchandise that I could use to ‘thank’ her with? But with Dash’s eyes on me, I couldn’t afford to go inside right away without her suspecting that there was something fishy was going on. Hmm… maybe I should get a fake mackerel and… nah, that’s dumb. I spied a wooden bench that was conveniently unoccupied and a nefarious scheme hatched itself in my head. Looks like I was going to have to resort to the magic of illusion for the nth time today.
Being the sneaky bastard that I am, I cast a simultaneous doppelganger spell coupled with active camo that allowed me to sneak inside the prank store while my doppelganger decided that a nearby bench looked comfy enough to squat its keister down on. It was auspicious that none of these stores were equipped with magic sensors or whatever that would sound the alarm as soon as someone who was rendered magically invisible entered the building. Maybe I’m just paranoid and people here are really trusting for some reason that I can never fully wrap my head around?
I dropped the active camo and shocked the hell out of some auburn haired chick who was carrying a bag filled with assorted goodies (one of which I recognized as a can of peanut brittle with a coiled snake hidden inside). I asked for a quick pardon and stepped around her before she could get so much as a flustered word off.
The Magiville prank store was… colorful, to say the least. It kind of reminded me of a mixture of a retro toy store and a grocer as I browsed the aisles. All of the products were neatly organized in rows with a specific genre assigned to them. For instance, they had a jump scare section where everything that was designed to pop out, explode (non fatally), or mechanically shriek was conveniently located. Much as I wanted to linger here and see everything this place had to offer, I’d need to pick an item quickly before my stalker began to sense that something was off and come investigate.
By chance, I passed by a six pack of old fashion cola looking bottles of assorted flavors that caught my eye. I rapidly scanned the description of the drink’s properties and discovered that each flavor had a unique and very much intentional ‘side effect’ to it. Cherry flavored soda would be ultra spicy as if the blood of the devil himself was infused into it, grape soda would result in relentless belching for five minutes, lemon lime would cause your lips to pucker up and stay that way for an hour, honey would give you hives (is that a hidden pun?), and kiwi would… yeesh, I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. A wry grin stretched its way across my face as I read the consequences of drinking the chocolate flavored soda.
I rushed to the register with all possible haste and slapped the six pack down on the counter. The man dressed all in green at the register was a polite fellow, idly exchanging niceties with me as I dropped ten bits into his hands and received two single pieces in change. I got a brief glimpse of his nametag and was stumped when it didn’t have anything to do with practical jokes, but made me somewhat hungry for cereal. ‘Lucky Charms’ wished me happy pranking along with some kind of short store slogan before tending to the customer behind me (who was buying a whole flock’s worth of rubber chickens and decorative party hats for each of them).
I went full camo again as I exited the shop and turned right. My fears almost came to fruition as Dash was descending from her cloud perch with an annoyed scowl on her face. The doppelganger illusion was sitting perfectly still on the bench looking more like a fleshy automaton than a person. My knuckles clenched around my drink pack as I took all of this in. The illusion wasn’t a hard-light conjuration since that would take an excessive amount of mana (I’m a little tight fisted with my magical expenditure, sue me). So if Rainbow decided to smack me upside the head for zoning off and ignoring her, fist would meet nothing but air and she would know that she had been duped. I could not allow that to happen or my plans for retaliation would be dashed… quite literally.
I growled to myself and prepped an extra flashy teleportation spell that dampened the air displacing ‘pop!’ so that I would appear in my illusion’s place without making it explicitly clear that I ported in. I could also use the ensuing explosion of light to hide my latest purchase underneath the bench. Just as Rainbow was about to grab illusion me by the shoulder, my spell released and I was subject to the sensation of going no-everywhere for half a second before appearing exactly in my illusion’s place and dispelling it. The unexpected burst of brightness overwhelmed Rainbow and she was forced to withdraw her hand and cover her eyes, eliciting a surprised shout from her. I wasted no time in sweeping the evidence of my deceit beneath the bench with a swift kick and assuming a perfectly blank expression (which was just slightly different from my default one).
Rainbow convalesced as soon as the light died down and glared angrily at me, “Dude! What the heck was that!?” She demanded, pausing in her anger to rub the spots out of her vision.
I feigned blissful ignorance, “What was what?” I responded in an annoyingly innocent voice. I have a bad habit of rocking the boat when I really shouldn’t.
She stared at me with disbelief, “I dunno… I was only calling you by name for like… two minutes now. I was starting to think you’d gone deaf or something, so I was about to tap you to make sure you were still alive when you suddenly lit up like a Hearth’s Warming tree and scare-, I mean… blinded me” She kept a straight appearance as she smoothly glazed over her verbal slip.
‘She managed to wait on me for a full two minutes before cracking? I’m honored’ I thought appraisingly.
“Was I ignoring you? I’m sorry” I apologetically stated with faux sincerity, “I was probably only toying with an immensely delicate astral projection spell and was completely absorbed in focusing all of my mental faculties to making certain that I didn’t stay detached from my own body… destined to walk the world as an impotent spirit indefinitely, all because somebody desired my attention so badly that they felt the need to physically disturb me and doom me to such a fate!” My voice gradually began building in volume until it was just below shouting level, making Rainbow recoil from its collected ferocity.
“Geez… I had no idea. Sorry” Was all she could mutter.
The regretful gleam in her eyes made me rethink my actions. My agitated outburst actually caught my own self off guard. Sometimes my own ability to come up with impassioned lies on the spot worries even me.
I sighed with mild lament, “No Rainbow, I’m the one at fault here. Casting such a perilous spell on a whim and in public instead of a private chamber was a huge oversight on my part. I had no right to raise my voice at you when the real culprit was sitting right here” I tapped my thigh in emphasis, “Allow me to find some way to apologize appropriately… as well as congratulate you on that devious onion prank of yours from earlier” I remarked further.
Her magenta irises lit up with graceful forbearance, “Apology accepted. Got you good didn’t I?” She grinned rakishly at me.
I grinned back as I took out the six pack, “Sure did” I slid out the chocolate soda and popped the cap with magic, “Let us share a celebratory drink on your successful prank!”
‘And to my imminent own’ I mentally chortled in my evil overlord voice and sequentially tapped my fingers together. Rainbow didn’t so much as suspect any foul play as I brought out the soda, nor did she read the blue lettered label designated ‘Distilled Poison Joke soft drinks’ on the paperboard.
“Hey yeah I’ll take one!” She exclaimed in a cocky tone, playing right into my trap.
She bumptiously took the drink I offered to her while I pulled out the grape soda for myself as to complete the deception. I bit down on the cap with my molars and twisted, bending the cap until the bottle was uncovered. Agrarian strength ensured that I could truly back up my bark with bite. Rainbow and I clinked our glasses together before going bottoms up. Even though the fizzy grape drink would cause me some uncontrollable gastric discharges for a few minutes, it would be worth it to see the dastardly effect it would have on Rainbow Dash.
The crazy girl chugged the whole thing in one long draft, while I took a few manly swigs of mine. She let out a pleased sigh and tossed the bottle overhand into a nearby bin without looking, scoring herself some serious style points. Not to be outdone, I hurled my finished bottle across the street, rebounding it off the rain gutter of a nearby house where it continued to bounce with a series of pinging sounds along a makeshift path before landing right into the garbage bin. I’m not going to lie, that was an extremely fortunate result considering that I was aiming straight for the can, and it earned me an impressed brow raise from my company.
Brushing off her bedazzlement, she smacked her lips as she processed the taste, “That’s stuff’s not half bad. Can’t say I’m big on chocolate, but it’s got this strange aftertaste. Do you know what it is?” She asked, a funny expression gracing her features.
“It’s… *Urrp!*” I was interrupted before I could unleash my punch line. Damn that stuff works fast! I beat a fist against my chest in order to eke out a clear sentence through the machine gun burps.
Eventually I managed an answer, “…It’s prank flavored…” I gasped out.
I’d smirk triumphantly at her, but I was a little preoccupied with balancing breathing and belligerent belching. As bad a shape I was in at the time, I wasn’t nearly as bad off as Rainbow, who began squirming uncomfortably as she shifted in her seat. The effects of the drinks were clearly kicking in for us both.
“You tricked me! I’m so gonn-” She was cut off by a deep rumbling in her gut, which she clutched with a hand as her face started to sweat feverishly. She expeditiously excused herself and hastily made for one of the few public privies scattered about town (picture a park outhouse in structure).
I wanted to laugh so badly as she awkwardly waddled-hopped away, but my own self inflicted prank was taking its toll, robbing me of the breath to express my mirth. I couldn’t afford to waste too much time getting myself in gear, since Rainbow would doubtlessly come looking for blood as soon as she was done answering the call of nature. I surmised that her insides were just about on fire as I stumbled away from the bench, leaving the rest of the sordid sodas behind for some other poor fool to find.
I hobbled to a nearby drinking fountain and doused the worst of my incessant burps with a hearty serving of water. There was an inscription I remembered reading on the carton that recommended Adam’s ale as an antidote to any of the ill effects that partaking in drinks distilled from Poison Joke inflicted on one’s self. It wouldn’t fully nullify my state of constant eructation, but I would need to at minimum tone it down if anyone was going to take me seriously… Not to mention that when Rainbow inevitably recovers and goes hunting for me, I’d need to be in tiptop condition if I was to weather her wrath (‘heh… weather’).
Once I was sufficiently recuperated (gaseous emissions reduced to maybe two or three every minute), I began to jog along the trodden dirt paths that meandered into one of the smaller Magiville town parks, eager as I was to get some uninterrupted morning strolling in. Much to my relief, it was still early enough that there weren’t more than three other people in the area, two of which were chatting amicably in a wiry gazebo with a yellow banner waving overhead while the other one was tending to the many vibrant flower columns that were separated by wooden plots. The gentle sound of a babbling stream of water branching off the main river that ran through town permeated the air. I inhaled deeply of the scent of contained and pruned nature before exhaling contentedly. Outdoor parks back home were not a luxury that I was able to take advantage of very often, which was something that I intended to work towards rectifying little by little…
Or at least I would have, had Rainbow not come barreling towards me at breakneck speeds with an angry expression on her face. Oh, and did I mention that she was flying too? That’s kind of an important detail.
“Scheiße!” I swore loudly before throwing caution to the wind and taking off just in time to avoid being bolt tackled by the Wonderbolt hopeful. She pulled through from her gastrointestinal distress much faster than I gave her credit for, and man did she look pissed.
She swiftly adjusted her course once she realized that I placed more of a priority on not being physically assaulted than risking my identity in front of a few people who were too busy doing their own thing to notice the aerial engagement that was beginning to take place just above their heads.
“Stop running you coward! Get back here and take your punishment like a man!” She screeched like a banshee, her features flushed with rage.
“I’m not running! I’m flying, away from you!” I called back, that minor impulse to correct people on their word usage acting up again.
She growled loudly enough that I could hear her over the rushing wind as she began to gain on me. Much as I hated to admit it, Rainbow had almost every conceivable advantage over me in this situation. Not only was she a much more experienced flyer than me… she was also a Wonderbolts trainee, and that meant a serious training regimen that taught her all kinds of complex maneuvers that she could use to easily run (or more accurately in this case, fly) me down with. I’d have to resort to essentially cheating with my magic to level the playing field and take away her upper hand.
I was not above doing such things when my health was on the line, so I began augmenting my wings to grant me extra lift with every flap and casting a slip-field around my body that nullified all air resistance and drag. I dared a glance behind and was slightly pleased to see that Rainbow was no longer ten seconds away from having another opportunity to snatch me out of the sky. I increased altitude and put us just above the lowest cloud layers. This served two purposes, to provide obscurity from curious gazes below, and in case an opportunity to lose Rainbow presented itself, I could use the clouds for cover.
Even after buffing my ‘flight stats’, Dash was still able to keep a significant pace just hot on my tail. The pressure of being chased so high above the Earth was both equally thrilling and terrifying. Ducking and weaving around the bulbous puffs of crystallized water vapor was also a lot of fun, even if the person behind me wasn’t enjoying it nearly as much as I was. My laughter only further incensed my pursuer, who dropped beneath the clouds and left me guessing as to what she was attempting to achieve. If I had to take a guess, I’d say that she was trying to lure me into a false sense of security before ambushing me right when I thought I was in the clear and slowed down.
Unfortunately, my guess proved to be inaccurate, because the white puffy clouds that had proven to be easy obstacles before, were now gradually turning darker and more sinister in appearance. They also inexplicably began chaotically changing their elevation and turning the local airspace into a kind of pocket filled to the brim with the black barriers. White flashes within their murky depths reminded me that they also doubled as electrical hazards that would make for a shocking experience should I so much as graze the surface of one. I had to bite back a string of curses as I ducked and dived to avoid one such cloud that popped up right in front of me, Rainbow wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty either it seemed.
I searched around for some kind of escape route and saw it in the heavens. A circular opening not unlike the eye of a hurricane glared down at me from above, the streams of sunlight that were pouring through it served as the only source of illumination now that storm clouds blotted out most of the outside light. However, it was an opening that was rapidly closing, for the highest and more jagged looking storm clouds began converging on each other in a way that resembled a closing maw of a great beast. I pumped my wings for what they were worth and ascended like Icarus, only I had no illusions about my limits or theoretical flight ceiling.
Dodging and weaving around the chaotic movements of the storm clouds between my exit and myself was thoroughly challenging, and even the slightest mistakes on my part were punished with sharp zaps of electricity that made my hair stand on end and my muscles twitch uncomfortably. Harsh winds battered me back and forth and I had to struggle just to maintain my heading. I promptly decided to amend my previous opinion on the amount of fun I was having, because navigating in the bowels of that tempest was just plain miserable.
Just as I was about to clear the worst of it and emerge victorious, Rainbow came speeding out of nowhere roaring like an Amazonian warrior woman and charged right into me. I wheezed as the wind was knocked out of me and we tumbled out of the eye of the artificial miniature hurricane. My active and passive spells fizzled out as the rough contact broke my focus on maintaining a mana feed to them. Our eventual landing on one of the flatter clouds in a second layer above the fluffy ones was punctuated by a series of rolls that resulted in a jumbled mess of bodies and ruffled hair.
Our crash landing also culminated in something that I found both dreadfully cliché and slightly arousing despite that. Rainbow propped herself up to discover that she was straddling me in a cowgirl position. I had to resist the urge to chuckle at her frizzled coiffure as she slowly shook off her daze. Evidently she had cut corners during our chase and plowed straight through the storm clouds in order to get to me. This girl really will do anything to prevent herself from losing.
The aspiring aerialist may have successfully waylaid me, but I could still manage to get in some jabs of my own before I ever surrendered. I moved my hands until they rested on the exposed portion of her thighs that weren’t covered by her baby blue sports shorts. The rather intimate physical contact staggered her from whatever fury filled speech she was about to give me.
“So you like being on top huh?” I cheekily poked at her, making her already red face even more crimson. Either with frustration or embarrassment was hard for me to tell.
She slugged me in the shoulder, but kept me pinned regardless, “Keep dreaming pal. What you did to me back there was evil” She balefully glowered at me for a few seconds before grinning, “But also pretty sneaky. I hadn’t pinned you for prankster material. Probably why you were able to blindside me like that” She tried to cover up her wounded pride by acting casual.
‘Oh Rainbow, you’re much too transparent for that’ I’ll play along anyway, wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings or anything.
I was also idly wondering why she allowed my hands to stay where they were. On that note, Rainbow has surprisingly smooth skin for a girl who seems like the messy type. I might not be the only one who has a secret appreciation for spa treatments.
“You’ll find that I’m full of surprises” I spoke under my breath.
A strange self satisfied fuzzy feeling overcame me as I lay there. I always wanted to say that, even if this weren’t the context I’d picture myself using it in.
She scoffed and crossed her arms together, “That’s not the only thing you’re full of” She quipped back heartlessly.
I removed my hands from her person to fake having heart pains, “Ugh, your cruel words wound me my lady! Am I really so lowly in your eyes?" I melodramatically declared. That was an Oscar worthy performance right there. Too bad Rainbow didn’t have the same appreciation for the theatrical arts.
She rolled her eyes at my theatrics, “Do you even listen to half of the horse crap that comes outta your mouth?” She punctuated her question by poking me in the chest.
I shrugged as best as I could, given my sandwiched circumstances, “Sometimes. Other times though I just like to talk out of my ass… Which lends some credence to your well founded inquiry now that I think about it” I added shortly afterwards.
She groaned and held a palm to her forehead, “Ugh… Only Rarity and the Egghead like using so many big words all the time. You know what I think? I think it’s just an excuse used to hide your lame-ness” She placed added emphasis on that last part.
My eyes narrowed slightly at her open insult, “There’s virtue in being a multifaceted being, Rainbow Dash. It also demonstrates that you’re a well rounded person who actually values their education and expresses that in conversation” I kept my voice calm as I enlightened her on the fallacy of her beliefs.
“Pfft! All it does is make you sound like some pretentious wad” She asserted, unaware of the argument ammunition she just gave me.
I raised an eyebrow, “I’m detecting high levels of hypocrisy coming from right above me. Somebody just used a word with more than three syllables in it” I craned my neck to the side, “Was it you by any chance?”
She seemed to realize her error, as her cheeks puffed and flared once more, “It’s just a word I saw in one of my Daring Do books!” She defended herself vigorously.
In spite of myself, I chuckled coarsely, “Dee Dee does put up with a lot of pretentious pricks, with myself apparently included on the roster” I intonated my voice in an ambiguous impersonation of sadness. I am far too stolid to pull off that moue that Rarity should be renowned for.
Her constant glare softened in intensity, “Hey… I didn’t mean it like that. I just keep getting this negative vibe from you. Like you haven’t been completely on the level with myself or our friends and you’re putting on some kind of act to screen yourself from us” That’s a remarkably insightful observation from someone who likes to think in simple terms.
I also noted offhand how she believed me to reciprocate the idea of friendship and filed it away for future reference.
“That’s because I haven’t told you or your friends everything about me” I replied with honesty, though deliberately counteracting Rainbow’s use of the ‘our’ in regards to her friends took a little more effort than I expected.
The spectrum haired woman took this news with more grace than I’d previously given her credit for, “I thought as much. Is there a particular reason why you haven’t been open with us?”
“Several, actually. Though I’d be more willing to elaborate if you’d stop sitting on my wedding tackle” I rocked my hips from side to side in case she didn’t get the picture.
The expression of shame on her face was adorable, and I just couldn’t hold back my laughter as she dismounted me with awkward flailing motions. Small wisps of snow white cloud broke off like tufts of cotton as she righted herself next to me.
She slugged me in the shoulder yet again as she recomposed herself, “You’re such a jerk! I can’t believe AJ actually shared a shower stall with you!” She cried out, her nose scrunching up in an oddly cute way.
“Oh? Confronted the farm girl about that did you?” I smirked unabashedly, much to my companion’s annoyance.
“I wouldn’t be so smug about it if I were you. She said, and I quote, ‘I’m none too pleased about that city slicker havin’ the gall to brag about somethin’ as private as that’. So I wouldn’t expect a warm reception the next time you see her” She stuck her tongue out at me like a juvenile who won her arguments via gossipy crap that doesn’t have much impact on someone like me.
I gave her a flat stare, “Would she prefer that I lie about having any kind of physical involvement with her? Kinda goes against the whole ‘Honesty’ thing, doesn’t it?” Technically it’s a lie of omission, but it still counts! I don’t see what’s got her panties in a twist in the first place. It’s not like we shagged each other or anything!
She held her hands up in a disclaiming notion, “Dude, that’s between you and her”
Gee, what a Loyal friend this girl is.
‘And it’s only because you had to flap your gums that I actually have to make sure thunder thighs and I are still cool’ I groused to myself.
“Yes it is… just like revealing more about myself is between you, me, and the rest of the girls, when we’re all together” I rebuffed her persistent need to know by defaulting to my fallback condition for the disclosure of secrets between myself and the Elements.
She scoffed a second time, “Keep dodging us with that excuse as much as you want, Zenith. Eventually we’re going to catch you and force you to spill, just like I caught you in that turbulence” She gestured with a thumb back to the swirling vortex of lighting and rain we had just flown inside only scant minutes prior.
“Congrats, you gave yourself electroshock therapy just to barely accomplish grabbing me, by the skin of your teeth I might add” I deadpanned, “How did you make the clouds get all angry like that anyway?” I asked, switching subjects to one less annoying.
“You seriously don’t know how Valkyrian magic works? It’s like you’re from another country or something!” She shouted in exasperation.
“Much further than you think, Rainbow. Now please illuminate me like I’m a fledgling who’s only just learned his wings” Believe it or not, but Skyborn actually apply avian idiomatic terms like that to themselves from time to time.
She ran a hand through her frizzy hair in an attempt to make it look like her usual unkempt style, “Fine. But you better have a good reason for acting like you’ve been living under a rock all this time”
She took a deep breath and summoned her wings. I don’t know what makes Valkyrian wings so mesmerizing up close, but I can’t help but gawk a little every time I see their ethereal yet structured wavy form. I pushed the desire to touch them to the back of my mind, recalling how such an action could be easily misconstrued by the proudly Skyborn woman. Not to mention invasive of her personal space, her own disregard for mine notwithstanding.
Rainbow spoke in a near lecturing tone that was quite different from the scratchy and informal one that I’d normally hear her speak, “A lot of Stellar Mages like to think that their abilities are the only type of magic that matters. And I’d personally knock them on their ass if they ever said that to my face, because they’re flat out wrong. Agrarians and Skyborn possess a latent magic that might not be as apparent as the rock head’s is, but has just as much of an overall effect on our society. Without the Agrarian’s ability to till even the most barren of soil and the Skyborn’s capability for positioning rainclouds where they’re most needed, there wouldn’t be much of an Arcania to begin with”
She paused in order to respire before continuing, “I’ll skip the ground pounder’s skills and move on to the raddest folk’s affinity for all things sky. Much like a Stellar Mage’s focal gem, our wings serve as the foci, that’s the plural of focus… right?” I briefly dipped my head in affirmation in response to her hesitation, “Right, the foci of our inherent magic. Air currents, windage, even the temperament of clouds can be affected by Skyborn magic. With it, a practiced Skyborn can transform even the most tranquil cirrus into a cumulonimbus that spits lightning that doesn’t take crap from anybody. Although, the process of doing that would take several Valkyrians and an hour or so of shuffling cirri together and imparting them with spark… but you get my point. Of course, a flock is always more effective than a lone flyer”
“Then how were you able to whip up something like that so quickly?” I gave a nod towards the proto cyclone, which neither grew nor shrunk in size with the passage of time.
She bristled with no small amount of pride, “Heh. Being an Element of Harmony and the awesome flyer I am, I get a bit of a power boost in those areas. So I technically could do the work of an entire flight group by myself, not that I’d really want to… but I totally could” She insisted, lazily swinging a leg off the edge of the airy platform.
‘Interesting, so the Elements are a cut above the rest by right’ I suppose that even magical jewelry can be inclined to nepotism.
“You sure are knowledgeable about all this. For a second I swore that you started to look like a certain lecture loving librarian” I teased her, ignoring the fact that her bookish friend was not feeling herself at the present time.
In return she just looked unamused, “I’m the manager of the local weather team and a Wonderbolt applicant. I have to know stuff like this or I’d be a disgrace to feathered folk everywhere!” She threw her hands up in a dramatic display that was pretty darn close to Oscar worthy, but not a close second to my own though.
“Speaking of which, I need to dismantle that setup, since there’s no rain scheduled for today anyway” She got up and peered over the edge before turning back to me, “You feeling up for some hands on learning?”
I nodded, “I don’t have anything demanding my time until noon, so sure”
She genuinely smiled to me before saying, “Cool” and dived off the cloud with minimal flair.
I stood up and followed after her, freefalling until I spotted a tiny dot of prismatic hair growing larger. My wings shot out and slowed my plunging descent until I was level with a hovering Rainbow about midway down the vertical perimeter of the storm cloud column.
“What’s the first thing on the agenda, teach?” I asked, eyeing the enormity of our little chase’s outcome.
“I was thinking that I work the top half and you work the bottom half and we meet up in between. But first…” She zoomed ahead and brought back a tiny puff of pall for her to demonstrate.
She shoved the bite sized chunk of cloud toward me, “I want you to feel it”
I obeyed and grabbed a hold of it, feeling static passing through my body in a harmless if not strange wave of stimulation.
“Okay, now what?” I followed up as I examined the object I was holding. It was like holding a Van de Graaff generator, only a lot more moist and less metallic.
“Reach inside yourself to the parts that feel distinctly Valkyrian. You should be able to easily tell the difference if what Twilight said to me about Stellar Mage magic is true”
I closed my eyes and dug deep, searching for this so called distinction. I hummed thoughtfully to myself once I felt an amped up but not wild sensation of energy that felt both different and similar to the warm wellspring of magic that I usually drew upon. My eyes shot open as I recognized this feeling. I had called upon it during my duel with Luna to downburst her Mage-blade shards and create an avenue of attack for me to exploit.
“You got it?” She asked, even though the astonished look on my face was confirmation enough.
I mumbled an affirmation, silently stunned as I was at already subconsciously knowing this power and using it before, “Good. Now take that inner potential and direct it through the cloud, willing it to calm down” She directed, raising and lowering her hands as if to illustrate her point.
I did as she asked and commanded the cloud to ‘chill out’, although doing that resulted in it spewing out tiny bits of hailstone. I simpered innocently at the bemused Rainbow and reworded my command, watching it rapidly shift from an angry ice spitting black to a fluffy white once again.
“Pretty easy huh?” Her smile was starting to revert back to that cocky flyer disposition that was both aggravating and endearing at the same time.
“Easy enough” I agreed torpidly, not really feeling up to mirroring her enthusiasm.
“Now that you know the basic gist of things, let’s make this a competition. Whoever reaches the halfway point first wins!” Without waiting for my consent, she dashed off towards what was undoubtedly another contest that she was determined to win.
I shrugged to myself and set a casual pace down to the bottom of the billowy mass. I figured I would take my time to both get it right, and let Rainbow’s fragile ego relish in another victory, even if it was thrown by me. It was incredible just how easy it was to reverse the effects of Rainbow imparting ‘spark’ into the large cloud masses until they looked like they normally did. I did have to work a little harder to apprehend the rogue clouds that were changing their elevation willy nilly. Remembering my checklist of things I’ve wanted to do since I got here, I stomped on a storm cloud and made it shoot a deafening bolt of lightning.
To borrow an overused word from Rainbow’s vocabulary, it was freaking awesome, even if my ears were ringing for the next two minutes.
I reached the halfway point after five minutes of flitting back and forth mollifying the stormy sea and found an impatient Rainbow waiting for me and tapping her foot against a makeshift cloud platform that she was using to survey, causing small bits to break off and float around her legs like down feathers.
I pacified the last of the black masses and landed beside her, “I wasn’t terrible for a rookie right?”
She sighed, “No, terrible would have been twenty percent faster than that. I would rank you as Grade A slowpoke right now” She slapped me on the back, hardly budging me, “C’mon dude! You weren’t even trying to keep up!” She admonished, disappointment clear in her tone.
“I tried! I wasn’t feeling that competitive was all” I excused with faux timidity.
She groaned and slumped her shoulders, “You aren’t nearly as badass as the book made you out to be, Mr. American”
“I’m not really in a life threatening situation at the moment, so my badass side is busy taking a relaxing nap. Something which you aren’t allowed to criticize, Ms. Snoozy” I replied evenly, relying on her lazy side being pertinent here too.
I think I struck a nerve, because she tensed immediately, “Hey! Just because my preference for multiple naps during the day is frowned upon, doesn’t mean I can’t clear the skies in ten seconds flat and show all of my critics up!” She said defensively, prideful about her efficient reputation being discounted so callously by me.
I sighed tiredly, “Much as I enjoy trading whimsical barbs with you Rainbow, Daring had a much sharper tongue and always kept moving things along” I wanted to do something other than have my time used up by someone who thought a caramel onion would make a great prank.
“She use that tongue of hers for anything else?” Rainbow pried cheekily, wagging her eyebrows suggestively.
‘Okay, now she’s starting to sound a little like Dee’ I quietly conceded.
I gave her a neutral stare, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Before spreading my wings and taking off, making for the town below. Ditching my company however, wasn’t as simple as that.
“Hey wait up!” Rainbow shouted before taking up a spot to my right, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, American. What is an American anyway?” She inquired, after chewing over the pronunciation of the foreign sounding word and having her curiosity piqued about its meaning.
“A miserable pile of democratic, liberty loving patriotism” I hammed, not really taking her question seriously.
“Wow, aren’t you glad that you became an Arcanian instead then?” She tepidly responded, seemingly taking my words directly at face value. Sometimes my monotonous sarcasm just soars over people’s heads, quite precisely this time around.
“Uhh, sure” I said in a preoccupied tone, scanning the ground for a safe spot to land. I really should be getting more friendship credit for letting this girl tag along when I could be doing my own thing.
The increase in people that were out and about made my task much more difficult than I’d like. To my amusement, I saw a lone figure being chased by a small mob of women somewhere in the northern part of town. I could almost feel the palpable waves of buyer’s remorse from up here!
Eventually I settled for the nearest landing zone by the prank store that had the least amount of people wandering by. I went full camo for roughly ten seconds until I could touch down in one of the alleyways between the shops and homes that made up this partition of the town. I did question the effectiveness of this method though, as Rainbow had no semblance of secrecy and followed right behind me. This might seem like a trivial concern, but anybody who knew Rainbow would find it slightly odd that she chose to land in an alleyway and emerge with me when they saw her flying solo.
Bah, I’m probably being paranoid again.
“What’s with all this sneaking around on your part?” She interrogated me randomly as we dusted the cloud residue off ourselves.
“In case you haven’t noticed, nobody besides the Elements and the Princesses are supposed to know that I’m more than just some Stellar Mage who dropped in town one day. And I prefer to keep it that way” I reminded her.
“Is it really that big of a deal? So what if you’re another Trifect? They do great things for everyone!” She directed her eyes upwards, “Heh, if I were a Trifect. I might actually be able to surpass my airspeed record. If that’s even possible!” She said with a wistful sigh.
I scoffed internally at the idea of Rainbow pulling off multiple Rainbooms, “It is a big deal, albeit not for the reasons that you’re thinking. Though I admit that it would be pretty awesome to see you break the sound barrier multiple times over firsthand” I added on the side.
She proudly pointed a thumb to herself, “That and more. I’d totally reinvent the word awesome if I were a Trifect, dude. So what are we doing here?” She asked, looking around for some kind of indicative clue.
“We’re going to do some shopping” I glanced back at her, “Try not to get too excited” I sarcastically remarked.
She shot me a flat expression, “Do I look like Rarity? Stop lumping her interests and my interests together. We’re almost complete opposites”
“What if I told you that we were shopping for prank related wares?” I amended.
Her sour face flipped back to excited, “Alright, that does sound like fun. Why didn’t you just say that!?”
“I just did” I sneered, receiving another harmless love tap on the shoulder.
We bantered some more back and forth as we entered the store before shutting up. Dash’s eyes lit up and I could tell that she was struggling to contain herself. Can’t blame her, the local prank shop has some pretty neat stuff. I spared Rainbow some bits since she neglected to carry a munny pouch around and used what change she had to pay off the vendor who gave me the caramel onion. I told her to find something unique that we could use to make someone’s morning more interesting. Since I already had a few ideas of my own to work with, I proceeded straight to the aliment and hygiene section (which ironically had normal prank free products). I stocked my store provided wicker basket with common items such as food coloring, toothpaste, and an empty beer bottle that looked like it was full but actually had the liquid contained inside the glass (I found it one row over from the prank free section).
I met up with my equally mischievous acquaintance back at the register and reviewed her choice of prank wares. I could already see what she was planning on doing with the beard wig, cosmetics, and superglue, but the fishing rod eluded my understanding.
That was until she produced some plastic insects from her person, “I know some flower girls who are absolutely horrified by anything icky. Trust me, you’ll love it” She assured me, stuffing them back into her pocket.
That sounds vaguely familiar, “One of these girls wouldn’t happen to be named Roseluck, would she?”
Her forehead creased as she processed my words, “Yeah… the name rings a bell. You know her?”
“She and her friends mistook me for a vampire simply because of my eye color” I droned in return, remembering how estranged I felt by their overreaction to an inconsequential thing like the gleam of my roguish irises.
I had no regrets snidely commenting over their lackluster intelligence, even if Roseluck sort of redeemed herself by giving me directions to Time Turner’s workshop. Heh, the Apple’s never did find out that I accidentally trashed one of their clocks. Besides, the backbreaking unpaid labor that I endured there was more than punishment enough to satisfy any debts I may have accumulated during my stay here. With the tiny exception of making Twilight lose sight of herself and spiral into a sort of pseudo depression.
She snorted with amusement, “I can see them doing something like that. They always scream and take cover underneath their flower carts whenever I so much as pass overhead”
I had my doubts about that. Rainbow’s definition of ‘passing overhead’ is doubtlessly more closely related to ‘buzzing’ the ground in a flyby.
“The very embodiment of skittishness, they are” I sagely stated while placing our things down on the counter.
Mr. Charms greeted me a second time, expressing enchantment over how I was gracing his humble business with a double dose of coin. Rainbow connected the dots and gave him a heated stare once she figured out that this man was partly responsible for the chocolate flavored laxatives that I tricked her into drinking earlier, but eventually let it go when he took no notice of her disdain whatsoever. Forgoing the need for a bag, we paid for our supplies and departed on civil terms, with Lucky wishing the two of us happy pranking.
We decided to take turns testing out each other’s ideas, starting with Rainbow’s fake beard, maquillage implements, and superglue. She informed me about a popular spot for napping outdoors (‘she would know’) that was both peaceful and idyllic. This place could be found where the watermills delved into the natural energy provided by the running water flowing from the mountain, the very same mountain where the capital city stood tall and proud in the distance, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. It was a quaint little picnic area surrounded by a small copse of trees that provided shade (though not for very long, as they were shedding their leaves in accordance to the shifting season) for a trio of padded benches lining the outskirts.
We were in luck, because a couple was currently relaxing on one such bench, snuggled up against each other like two peas in a pod. The man had dark blue hair and a dopey smile on his face, while the girl he held in his arms had one of those dual colored swirly hairstyles that I saw so many women in this town sporting. From the slow rhythm of their breathing and the equally sedate beating of their hearts, they were asleep. I rubbed my hands together and shared a knowing smirk with my partner in crime. They would be the perfect targets for what we had in mind.
We went to work on the unsuspecting couple. I did the ‘beautification’ for the guy while Rainbow had to bite down snickers as she traced the girl’s jawline with the tube of super adhesive gel before pressing the inner lining of the wig beard against her face. Once that was done, we gently applied the finishing touches on our victims and withdrew into the bushes to await the results. We also left them an anonymous note telling them that tomato juice was the ingredient necessary for dissolving that peculiar brand of super glue.
Almost on cue, both began to drowsily open their eyes and peer lovingly at each other… only to do a wide eyed double take when they realized that they had visually swapped gender roles. I was especially contented with how much the guy looked like the male version of Marie Antoinette, the powdered face and blushed cheeks doing wonders for his originally gritty complexion. They stared in disbelief at each other before one of them began cracking up with a peal of laughter that spread to their date, their mirth culminating in a heartfelt kiss that just reeked of lovey dovey sappiness. I looked over to my companion to see if she shared this sentiment, only to find her giving the couple a gaze that was suffused with hidden yearning. This set off some subconscious warning bells in my head and perplexed me greatly.
I tapped her on the arm and broke her out of her reverie, motioning with my cranium that we should leave the happy (if not pranked) couple to snog in peace. She reluctantly retreated with me into the shadows, not aware that I concluded for myself that she had some crucial reservations pervading her thoughts. We walked back in utmost silence, something that actually managed to bug me of all people.
“Something on your mind?” I asked, breaking up the quietude.
“Nothing. Just thinking” She brushed me off.
‘So that’s how she’s going be huh?’
“Ah… I thought I smelled smoke” I sardonically responded, taking whatever opening I could get.
“Leave it be” She warned, before furrowing her brow, “It’s stupid anyway”
I wasn’t going to back down, “Now who’s hiding themselves from whom? You can’t expect me to be open about myself if you’re not going to be forthcoming either” I reasoned. I raised a brow at how she was practically stomping her feet in irritation at my persistence.
She groaned before relenting, “Look, I’ll tell you some other time. But not here, and not now” She was all but pleading with me at that point.
I acquiesced to her wishes and remained complacent for the rest of the short walk back to town. Next on our list of places to occupy and people to prank was an outdoor restaurant that served ice cream sandwiches that put them on the town directory with a gold star marked next to it. My plan was relatively plain, there was a short delay between the waiter or waitress receiving the platter of famed desserts and carrying it to the customers that I could use to tamper with the goods.
This would require some judicious timing on my part, since this was one of those places where the overly uptight and rich inhabitants of the town often went for breakfast, lunch, and supper (because rich folks rarely partake in activities so commonplace as ‘dinner’). If I chose a member of those ill humored type of folks as my target, someone was liable to get fired for something they didn’t do, which I could not abide by.
I cased the joint and waited for the right kind of customers to arrive, spotting them in the form of a middle class Agrarian mother and her young daughter sitting down and ordering said dessert. I bid Rainbow to watch me work my magic as we sat in a nearby table sipping our tea and she rolled her eyes at my intentional word choice.
Going full camo, I snuck into the restaurant and into the kitchen where one of the staff had received the order and began making a duo of sandwiched ice cream cookies. When he wasn’t looking, I scooped out the ice cream and noiselessly devoured it before taking out my tube of toothpaste and spreading it on both sandwiches. I also stuck a note attached to a ten bit coin to the underside of the plate, politely asking them not to hold the kitchen staff accountable for my fun. I still made it anonymous because I was in no mood to be held accountable anyway. With my adjustments done, I returned to my chair with no one the wiser.
Nobody suspected a thing as the waiter carried the altered desserts to the merry mother and daughter. They both bit into their treats and the queerest expressions adorned their features for a brief moment before the mother noticed the note beneath her plate and read it. Her smile restored itself and she giggled to herself before explaining to her daughter that they had only become accessories in an elaborate joke. Further placating her confused child was the announcement that she would order another batch of desserts using the coin I had provided for them. I grinned to myself as I observed them across the yard. It’s nice that the lighthearted folks here are so understanding, it makes them easy to manipulate.
My companion had also seemed to have her good spirits restored, and reveled in the same mirth that was now tickling my lungs. This was a desirable turn around from earlier in my opinion. Rainbow looks prettier with a smile, not a scowl. I was tempted to slap myself once I caught myself thinking about her rough yet charming beauty again. Somewhere in the recesses of my bizarre mind, Spectrum Flash was grinning at me as if to say ‘C’mon, don’t be shy. You know you want to…’ which only made me shudder squeamishly.
“Something wrong Zenith? You’re zoning off again” Rainbow spoke up from her seat right across from me, slurping noisily through her straw.
“Nah, it’s just the winter weather getting to me” I lied as I got up. Rainbow was unconvinced, but she let it go.
‘Among other things’ I opined in dismay.
I pressed on with business, “You’re up Dash. Let’s give the flower girls a Sunday they’ll never forget” I said as I downed the rest of my tea and left a generous tip at the table.
We had to circle around town at least twice before we saw them. Though it did give me the opportunity to give a crowded and jittery Davenport a devious two finger valedictory salute as swooning women smothered him in estrogen and relentless questions about what it was like to be such a debonair gent. I upheld a weak perception filter (present company excluded from its influence) on myself just to be on the safe side. I could tell that Rainbow wanted to know what was up with some other man wearing my face and I mouthed the words ‘mid life crisis’, to which she fully understood.
Loki himself must have been smiling on my endeavors, because the three infamous town criers had set up shop beneath an oak tree with thick branches suitable for our scheme. We surreptitiously climbed up the trunk behind them until we were in position with our feet dangling right over their pretty little heads. Before Rainbow fixed the spider to the lure and lowered the line in commencement, I cast a little bit of animation magic onto the plastic figurine so that it crawled realistically for maximum shock factor.
Long story short, Daisy punctually took notice of the creepy crawler scurrying on her shoulder and released a scream so high in pitch that I bet only dogs could hear it before falling over and losing consciousness in full dramatic fashion. Her fellow vendors were completely oblivious to their squirrelly friend’s current state of health and continued their discourse about some girly topic that I couldn’t care less about.
Rainbow was shaking so hard with suppressed laughter that I had to take over the line while she recovered. I waited until there was a lull in the conversation that Roseluck used to stoop down and reach inside her cart for a pair of shears to trim some roses that still retained their thorns, and an atomizer to spritz them with water so they looked extra fresh. While she was distracted with that, I went for something a little more aggressive and swung the sham spider smack dab into the center of Lily’s face. I think I went a bit too far though, because the instant she opened her mouth to shriek, the spider crawled inside and began tap dancing on her tongue. Lily just kind of… shut down after that and stood there with a face frozen in catatonic terror. Even after I reeled the fake spider back in, the petrified woman remained unresponsive to the world.
Since Roseluck was at the forefront of their little gathering, she was well out of range of the fishing rod. However, an idea so wickedly efficacious that you could pin a tail on it and call it a fox, wormed its way into my skull and I just couldn’t resist acting on it. I turned to Rainbow (who’s paroxysms had only gotten worse after what I did to poor Lily) and again motioned for her to stay put. I then hopped out of the tree and walked in a roundabout manner while pretending that I had important business with a special someone.
Roseluck saw my approach and greeted me amicably, “Good morning Mister Zenith! Have you come to buy some flowers from us?” She motioned behind herself to her business partners, both of whom were not fit to mirror the gesture in their rigid poses.
‘That’s odd. I don’t remember telling this girl my moniker’ I noted offhand. She was likely apprised by the native grapevine.
“Not quite” I said as I closed the distance between us, “I came because I needed to express my sincerest gratitude for giving me the directions for Time Turner’s shop that one time”
“Oh that? It’s no biggie. I go there all the time to have my alarm clock reset and calibrated. Plus, we kind of owed you for making a public spectacle of ourselves… again” She giggled and waved a hand dismissively in the air.
What kind of alarm clock needs a professional to reset it? Maybe this girl really is that witless. Which is a shame, because she’d be pretty damn sexy otherwise.
I snatched her delicately soft hand and caressed it affectionately, staggering Roseluck greatly. I leisurely brought our faces close together and took delight in the marvelous tinge of pink that the woman’s cheeks took on. I swore that I could see the leaves of the tree trembling in the peripherals of my vision. Rainbow either found this super funny or was shaking with barely concealed jealously, which is exactly what I was investigating for.
“Oh but you don’t understand just how much that meant to me. I just wanted to give you a token of my affection, as I feel that monetary compensation is just not enough to convey the magnitude of my thanks” I all but purred, milking that seductive curse that this world placed on me for all it was worth.
“A-and… a-and what w-would that be, my g-good sir?” She shakily asked, becoming pure jelly in my arms.
I didn’t answer with words, instead giving her the passionate kiss that I assumed most women fantasized about experiencing, eliciting a squeak of surprise that quickly morphed into a throaty moan of delight. The first thing I heeded about the florist was that her lips had a pungent aftertaste reminiscent of her namesake, which baffled me to no end. Was there a rose flavored mouthwash too? Or did she just decide that chewing on her merchandise sounded like a good idea and went for it?
Either way, my crazy and admittedly impulsive plan seemed to have worked, and I left the stunned woman standing there with a contentedly muzzy smile on her face and a scarlet blush that matched her bright hair. It was a situation that I was glad no one else was near enough to bear witness to, because I imagine that seeing the flower trio in the various states they were in was odd even by Magiville standards.
Then again, Magiville never had someone like me lurking about.
I marched around the dumbstruck woman and past her equally thunderstruck friends, only to discover a fishing rod that had been recently cast aside onto the dirt and a rapidly disappearing but familiar blur on the horizon. I would have face palmed at Rainbow’s overblown reaction if I had the time for it. But as it was, I ditched my safety measures yet again and gave chase. I took flight in full view of everybody (albeit not that many looked up at what was a daily occurrence. And the flyers that were airborne were too busy to pay me any mind) and put the metaphorical pedal to the metal, rocketing towards my objective and putting a large drain on my mana reserves in order to rectify a serious misunderstanding.
Once I felt that I was within hearing range, I shouted, “Now who’s ditching who!?”
Rainbow didn’t answer, instead putting even more effort into her attempt to lose me. I would not be so easily dissuaded and did something that I should have thought of beforehand… which was teleporting right above her and grabbing her.
The double edged sword of an unadulterated teleportation spell was that you kept your momentum into the jump. This meant that if you weren’t careful, something like an airborne teleport could become a recipe for pain. I was about to learn this firsthand, if the growing shape of the surface was any indication. Rainbow’s fierce struggling hampered both of our flying abilities and we were slowly but surely plummeting Earthwards. I did what I could to steer us clear of any buildings and aimed for the tented clearing around Rarity’s home, which had relatively flat ground, before bracing for impact.
And what an impact it was! I grunted as my back took the full brunt of our combined inertial weight and we skidded several feet before coming to a halt. I could tell that the back of my shirt was shredded in places, but my skin remained unbroken, although it did feel the teensiest bit raw from grinding against the sand belt like stones and gravel of the dirt path we slew upon.
‘Why is it that every time I’m in an embrace with this girl, we end up with dreadfully happy landings?’ I mused as I felt each of the individual pebbles digging into my spine.
Rainbow was still as she lay against me, although there was a damp spot on my chest that told me that she was shedding tears.
“Why?” She uttered, her voice teetering somewhere between anger and betrayed hurt.
I knew what she was really asking, but addressed it indirectly, “We couldn’t reach Roseluck with the fishing line remember? So I decided to use some of that sickening charm I seem to have so I could finish off the triad”
She thumped me on the chest. Unlike the previous times, she put a lot more force into it, more on Dee’s level, “That’s not what I meant you idiot! Why did you exploit me like that? You figured out that I have a weakness for intimacy and then took advantage of it by seducing Roseluck in front of me so cruelly like that? You absolute bastard” Her eyes were red and puffy as she glowered at me. My God, did I really harm her that badly? I needed to do some damage control stat!
I played the role of the defensive if not ignorant male, “Let me get this straight. I took advantage of you… by smooching Roseluck? I assure you Rainbow, that kiss wasn’t even remotely platonic. It was just so we could carry out your end of the prank list to completion, and I’d safely say that the flower trio is down and out for rest of the morning. As for this intimacy weakness you mentioned? I had no idea what you’re talking about. Because you didn’t talk about it when I asked you if something was up” I reminded her, without a hint of patronization in my tone. Hypocritical of me I know, but that can’t be helped.
I then injected some mock offense into my voice, “Do you expect me to read your mind, woman? Because that kind of magic is technically illegal even for Trifects like myself” I feigned. My reorganizing of Twilight’s mental folders notwithstanding.
“No, it’s just… Ughh! Why do you have to be so thickheaded!?” She yelled with frustration. Good. Anger winning over sadness is more manageable for me anyhow.
We both got to our feet and I shooed away the concerned passersby by briskly telling them that we were healthy and well. Most of them looked unconvinced by our tussled condition, but backed off anyway. Moreover, I ran a hand along the smooth wooden scabbard of my Tantō and was gladdened to see that it was undamaged from our crash landing. That knife is as much an extension of myself as my magic has become.
I inhaled deeply and corrected a patch of hair that was jostled out of place from the rugged landfall, “Listen, Rainbow. I apologize for whatever wrong I unintentionally committed and I solemnly swear to you that I will never deliberately harm you or your emotions unless my hands are tied on the matter” I placed a hand on my heart, “If I ever do violate that promise, you have my express permission to sock me square in the face. Scout’s hon-”
I was interrupted by Rainbow punching me square in the face, causing me to stumble back and clutch my nose with both hands. They pulled away without any blood, but man did her punch pack a wallop! I quivered to imagine what an angered Agrarian punch would feel like. I would definitely bleed from a direct hit like that.
‘Ow… Okay, I guess I deserved that one’ I wrinkled my nose a couple times to clear up that crunched congestion that accompanies mild blunt trauma to the sniffer.
I saw her rearing back another fist and worked to counteract it, “You only get one freebie!” I pointed warningly at her, readying a stun spell in case she didn’t listen.
She grudgingly lowered her clenched fist, “Apology accepted” She mutedly spoke, before rubbing her arm sheepishly, “I guess I should also apologize for giving off mixed signals about how I feel about romantic stuff and crap. It’s just… it makes me feel so lame” She said with a weary sigh.
I lowered my arms now that there was minimal need to protect myself, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to give me an Applejack approved answer” I calmly requested.
I waited until she gave me a hesitant nod, “Do you feel anything towards me that might extend beyond the boundaries of friendship? Because I’ll let you know right now that I am one of the absolute worst people you can establish an amorous connection with” Mostly because I have difficulty dredging love related feelings out of my addled heart to reciprocate with.
She gave me a funny stare before she looked away from me, “I don’t… know. I’m just really confused about how I feel towards you right now, okay?”
“That’s fine Rainbow. We can still be friends either way right? So there’s nothing to worry about” I bypassed the capricious issue and returned my attention to what we were originally doing. Rainbow seemed a little off put by how easily I ignored that which went against her tough girl image, but said nothing in reply.
“And now for the last victim on my list… Rarity” I faced off against the Carousel Boutique like we were in some kind of western duel. How ironic that even when things get out of my control, I still end up where I need to go.
“Last? What about that beer bottle that you bought?” Rainbow said with a significantly less burdened tone, pointing to the pocket I had stuffed it in. How fortunate that wasn’t broken in the crash, or it would look like I had wet myself.
“Oh that? That’s a gag gift for Daring, when next I see her” I explained.
‘Be safe out there babe’ I wordlessly prayed as an afterthought.
“You two really are together, aren’t you?” She neutrally remarked, making it hard to tell whether or not that question was fan girl related or on a more personal note.
“Uh huh. After learning about her deepest and darkest secrets and sharing my own with her, it’s difficult not to be” I absentmindedly spoke, searching for a way in that didn’t involve the front door.
Once I found it, I gave my companion a routine command, “Stay here. I shouldn’t be long” I conspicuously checked my surroundings in case anyone was watching us and found nothing.
“Will do. Yeah… secrets” Dash muttered to herself just above my sensitive hearing threshold as I began to clamber up awkwardly against the smooth tented roof of the garish building in order to get to the second story window.
I tried to pry it open manually only to discover that it was locked. Locked! I finally found somebody who practices some common sense in this crazy country, and it happens to be counteractive to what I’m doing. I love you too Universe, a lot of hugs and kisses from you to my ass. I scanned the lock on the window with magic and found it to be unguarded by any anti magic mechanisms or other discouraging defenses, allowing me to unlatch the glassy portal from the outside in and slip indoors.
I knew the interior of the Boutique well enough by now that it didn’t take me long to come across the luxurious sparkling bathroom that was next to the master bedroom. Rarity’s bathroom was chock full of beauty products, from soaps to shampoos to conditioners whose names I had difficulty pronouncing. It made me wonder how much of her budget was spent on self pampering. Knowing the prissy Fashionista personally… I’d say even more that I could cynically estimate. I pulled out the medium sized flask of avocado green food coloring and compared it to the cellar’s worth of bottles that I could contaminate.
Ehh, it would have to do. I set about pouring small doses into each bottle of shampoo and shook them rigorously until each was mixed properly. I may have started humming the theme to Mission Impossible while I was working, partly because I was feeling pretty sneaky and mostly because I could hear distinct clacking footsteps below informing me that I did not have an infinite time limit. I fully admit that Rarity was my last (and most important) target because of that failed love potion scheme that she tried to use on me back in the capital. Desperation or not, I wouldn’t condone an action like that without some cordial retaliation.
“What are you doing?” I heard a slightly squeaky voice question me aloud. I lethargically twirled in place to face my pint sized interrogator (who was wearing the most fru fru outfit I’ve ever seen).
I stayed frosty, “Hey Sweetie Belle, I’m here to prank your sister” I admitted my intentions fully, to garner some trust that could serve me in this undertaking, “Cute dress by the way” I added, triggering a rather condescending huff of annoyance from her.
“Rarity is making me try on her young ‘ladies in training’ line of outfits and was threatening to prohibit a sleepover at Apple Bloom’s if I refused. Otherwise I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this type of ensemble” It’s so kawaii to see the tween try to act all grown up while having such a squeaky tonal quality to project herself with.
I raised a finger to my lips in the universal ‘shh’ gesture, “Don’t tell her I’m here, or you’ll spoil the fun”
I unscrewed the caps to her many conditioners and began adding green food coloring to those, as well as keeping an eye on Sweetie in case she felt like squealing. This wasn’t anything permanent (I’m reasonably convinced that Rarity would murder me in cold blood if it was), but the look on Rarity’s face when she gazes into the mirror and beholds her luscious and oh so precious hair looking like something out of a swamp thing comic would be worth preserving for the ages. If only I had a hidden camera to take it with!
She crossed her arms together and gave me an unamused look, “Like you spoiled me and my friends’ fun?” She dryly stated and tilted her immaculately groomed noggin accusingly at me.
I rolled my eyes, “Please. My activity has practically no risk of causing collateral damage to everything within a klick of here” I countered with no small amount of truth. Watching over the Mana Mark Maidens was practically disaster prevention in all but name.
Sweetie took the insult in stride, “Try telling that to Rarity. Everyone in hearing range is going to be deaf once she finds out” She deadpanned. I was more impressed that she knew what a klick was. Then again, she is the dictionary of the three little troublemakers.
‘Her lung power is exactly what I’m counting on too’
“Yeah well, what Rarity doesn’t know… won’t kill me” I said with a devious chuckle, “I’m sure her wonderful little sister can sympathize right?” Pile on the flattery. It works on her older sister, why not her?
“Well… since you asked so nicely” She made a zipping motion across her lips, “I’ll turn a blind eye just this once. Oh, and she’s liable to be showering in about three minutes, give or take… just a friendly heads up” She then began to skip away while humming to the same tune I was just singing moments before.
Was she subtly implying that I owed her a favor? She’s more like her sister than she realizes.
I scribbled a hasty note and stuck it to the door where Rarity could see it after taking her shower. I went the extra mile to write the note using my magic since Rarity had seen enough of my penmanship to be able to trace it back to me (I’m not kidding. Her eye for the smallest of details is just that good) if push came to shove. I bit back a curse as I heard the tell tale taps of low heeled footwear coming down the curved hallway that were most certainly not Sweetie Belle’s.
I was in a bad situation here, my mana reserves had been drained until they reached a point where I wasn’t able to cast a camo spell and maintain it for longer than a dozen seconds at most. The hefty blanket of mental exhaustion that accompanied that also immersed my planning processes in molasses, so I couldn’t think up a sound exit strategy at the top of a hat. Plus, someone with a perspicacious eye like Rarity’s would still be able to pick out my outline against the light and expose me even if I had full reserves to work with.
“Hey sis! I think I accidentally tore the frills running down my left sleeve!” Sweetie’s adowable voice came to my rescue from somewhere at the end of the hallway. I still had a guardian angel watching over me, even if she hardly came up to my waist and would remember this for some time to come. Heh, they both would.
The footsteps of imminent doom stopped just shy of the bathroom door, “Again? Sweetie Belle I told you not to do any kind of strenuous activities while wearing that! It’s a decidedly fragile lace, I’ll have you know” Rarity admonished as she walked back down the hallway, “Let me see it”
I quietly let out the breath I had been holding in and tip toed out of the door and back to the unlocked window. I glanced behind one last time to see Sweetie Belle at the crest of the stairway with an innocent smile on her face as she held out her left arm for her sister to examine. She even winked at me while Rarity was occupied fussing over the damaged ‘Haute Couture’ that Fluttershy was allegedly fond of. I resisted the urge to chortle in amusement before giving her a thumbs up gesture and exiting the Boutique unseen.
I glided down the fabric of the tented roof and landed in a crouched position like a Ninja. Rainbow was sitting in the shade of a tree and looking deep in thought over something. Likely what we had discussed prior to my final prank of the day.
I sat down next to her, “Mission accomplished, now all we gotta do is wait for however long it takes for Rarity to wash up”
My words seemed to break her out of her musing, “Hmmf! We might be waiting here a while then”
“It’ll be worth the price of admission, I can almost guarantee it” I leaned against the bark of the tree and began my epic countdown to Rariscream.
Twenty minutes of not so epic counting later (Women. Why do you take so long!?), our ears were graced by the sweet, succulent screech of a suffering seamstress, causing everybody within a few dozen feet of the Boutique to startle at the sudden noise and turn towards the source of the disturbance. To be fair, her scream only lasted about five seconds before it devolved into a string of incoherent weeping and wailing.
Then came the unchained fury of a scorned woman.
“PINKIE PIE!!!! RAINBOW DASH!!!!” The windows of the Boutique actually rattled from the force of her primal sounding roar.
‘Wow. So that’s what Rarity sounds like when she’s bloodthirsty. Best to steer clear of her for a while’ I thought, impressed by the Dovah like shout.
“I see she finally read my note” I commented with a wry snicker.
“Dude, what the heck!? Now she thinks me and Pinkie did it!” Rainbow complained from next to me.
I shrugged, “Can’t see how she came to that conclusion, I specifically wrote down details absolving you of any involvement”
“And you used our names!? That will only make her more certain of our guilt! What did you even do? That’s the angriest I’ve ever heard her!” She held her hands against her head as panic began to settle into her psyche, blanching her cheeks white as she envisioned horrific scenarios.
I blinked. What would Rainbow have to fear from Rarity? She can cloud walk her way to safety, provided that Rares doesn’t ask Twilight for assistance in casting a cloud walking spell. In which case, flying away very fast is always a good option.
I barked out a short, extremely satisfied laugh, “I defiled that which she loved most dearly. And tell you what. If she comes to you with foam frothing out of her mouth from sheer rage, you merely mention that Blissful Bounty may have been trying to help a sister out, but her assistance causes you gut wrenching pains like you would not believe. She’ll get what you’re trying to say”
‘And then proceed to tear my throat out in gory fashion’ I morbidly thought in addition.
“What?” Rainbow stared at me blankly.
I wagged a dismissive hand “It’s not a story you need to hear. Let’s just say that my week in Concordia was interesting and leave it at that”
I saw Rarity (with disgustingly green hair) fling open her window in search of her quarry. There was a fire burning in her eyes that poets could write whole sonnets about and wise men would flee very quickly away from… and I identified more with the latter. Without asking for permission, I grabbed Rainbow by the forearm and pulled her against me, putting the wide-ish body of the tree trunk between Rarity’s scathing glare and ourselves. Rainbow fidgeted frantically until she realized what I was doing and calmed down. Though I could tell that she was well outside of her comfort zone because she was a stiff as a plank of wood in my grip.
The sound of a door being slammed open shattered the silence, “I know that one or both of you two abhorrent pranksters is out here! Show yourself right now and explain to me why you ruined my beloved curls with green colored dye of all things! GREEN!” Rarity demanded as she trudged outside in a white bathrobe with shower clogs and her hair wetted down, which up close was an ugly shade of green that looked more like fresh baby barf than avocado green.
I withdrew my skewed vision from peeking around the tree as she searched high and low for us. Her voice was dangerously close by as she checked every nook and cranny and drew ever nearer to our hiding spot. I’d have to do something smart lest we be discovered and have the seamstress rip us a new one.
I spoke in a whisper to the taut athlete who was doing her best not to pull away from me and get ensnared by Rarity’s magic the instant she was spotted, “I’ll distract her since she doesn’t suspect me of anything. You use that to make a clean getaway, got it?" She nodded against my torso, “Good”
I let go of her and climbed a tree for a second occasion, finding a nice wide branch to lay against while fake snoring in an obnoxiously loud manner. I also rustled the tree leaves in case I wasn’t noticeable enough.
“Aha!” A sensation unlike anything I’ve felt so far encompassed me in its prickly, pins and needles field and yanked me out of my roosting niche. I half pretended to yelp like someone who had been rudely awakened and fell out of bed shortly afterwards.
Rarity’s voice was smug at first, “I have you now… Zenith?” She said, thrown for a loop by my unexpected presence near her residence.
“That’s me, don’t wear the name out” I groaned as I rubbed my head in legitimate pain since my impact against the Earth was not cushioned in the slightest. I was also misfortunate enough to have struck my thick skull against one of the protruding roots of the tree, specifically on a vile part that sported a round nub.
“What in the world were you doing up there, darling?” Rarity’s voice reverted back to its soft, honeyed warmth.
“Well I was napping. Until somebody saw fit to put an end to that” I whined miserably as I got to my feet and brushed the dust away.
“You were napping in the branches of a filthy tree? That’s positively ludicrous my dear!” She exclaimed, finding the notion to be very much uncouth.
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you try it! Though I’d advise bringing a pillow… and lots of insecticide” Those unassuming trees aren’t as free of pests as you might think.
“I think I’ll pass on the idea altogether, though you and a certain prankster seem to have that in com-” She suddenly shrieked and pointed at me, making me momentarily think that Rainbow’s cover was blown.
“Whatever happened to your shirt? It’s absolutely torn to pieces on the backside!” She expressed, her seamstress instincts taking precedence as she scrutinized me up close.
Oh right. I’d quite forgotten about that.
“I performed a risky move during my flying today and paid a small price for it. Luckily, I’m physical unharmed from the incident” I effortlessly bent the truth in a way that would make Applejack’s eyelids twitch violently if she was here.
“Oh, no no no! This simply cannot go unresolved. I insist that you allow me to do repair work on it posthaste, my dear. And don’t fret over my request in the least! My boorish schedule is horrifically devoid of anything of interest as of late and I need something to keep these restless hands of mine occupied”
She then fixed me with a sultry gaze, “Unless… you feel like offering something else to keep me occupied, alternatively?” She said suggestively.
Damn, Rares! I know I ultimately gave you a chance to get with me, but calm your beating heart!
I left her without a straight answer as I stripped off my shirt and handed it to her, “Thank you for being considerate of others as always, my most benevolent lady. And I feel it prudent to call to attention the fact that your lavish hair is looking quite verdant today” This conversation had served its purpose anyway.
Her eyes went wide and she gasped loudly as I reminded her of the exhibit sitting on her head that was glaringly obvious to anyone with functioning eyes, “NO! Don’t look at it! I’m absolutely hideous-s-s” She ululated and sobbed with a hiccup.
Her emotional display aggravated the public observance of herself even worse as folks began to talk amongst themselves and gesticulated our way. Although taking my shirt off seemed to turn down some of the heat on the Element of Generosity. I closed my eyes shut in vexation. Why was I not surprised to know that?
I comforted the distraught woman and escorted her inside before taking my leave of both her and her property. As I was now shirtless, I decided that now was a good time to return to my sanctuary in the sky for a change of clothes. I wasted no time with walking somewhere people couldn’t see me spread my wings, since I had broken my rule enough times already that it was rendered largely irrelevant. Feeling the rush of cool wind against my chest was oddly relaxing though, and I’d only caused three people to stall in their flights as I passed them by.
I arrived at my airborne abode and progressed beyond its unlocked entrance and into the majestic foyer that I had mixed opinions about. Besides installing a lock of my own or barring it with magical wards, my doors would symbolically be open to anybody with the means to get themselves off the ground. I smirked as I reminded myself that very fact was part of the reason why I had it shipped so far out of anyone’s way. I ran up the stairs and into the guest room where I had stashed my things before stowing my gag gift for Daring in the adventure pack, undressing my beat up pants, showering off the dirt and grime from earlier, before finally donning the assassin-esque robes that Rarity had painstakingly handcrafted for me a second time.
I appraised myself in the mirror, satisfied with the aura of dangerous capability that I gave off while wearing this outfit. To enhance this look beyond the superficial charm, I equipped both of Plain Sight’s hidden blade vambraces and sheathed the fragments of Dichotomy into the folds of the lower robe tassels, along with the hilt of the blade attached to the belt for the easiest unrestricted access. I found myself wishing that I also had some flexible armor that I could strap on to shield my vital regions, but I neither possessed the parts, nor did I want people to think I was on the warpath. I would most likely receive some custom fitted armor when the Princesses call on me to do their bidding anyway.
My ruminations were broken into by the sound of a fist knocking against smooth stone coming from below. I gave my reflection one last look see in the mirror before resolving to attend to my latest guest. Lo and behold, I found Rainbow leaning against the doorway much like the last time. Only she chose the opposite door this time, as if variation in positioning would make the action less redundant. I didn’t really care either way.
“That was some pretty good interference work you did for me back there. Rarity might have exposed us together otherwise. Nice outfit by the way. Very robust looking threads” She complimented, her arms folded against her windbreaker jacket.
I shook my head, “Thanks. It’s actually not hard to distract her if you know how to play her own quirks against her. One look at my damaged clothing and all anger was immediately substituted with concern. The final step was to remind her that her hair was green and that people, many of them constituents no doubt, were staring at us. All I had to do to defuse her need for revenge was to replace it with a need for privacy” I expounded, demonstrating that I had enough of a grip on the fashionista’s personality that I could take advantage of her weaknesses if I needed to.
“Congrats, you can talk your way out of hairy situations” She sarcastically remarked. I winced, that pun was in very poor taste.
“That was a terrible pun and you should feel bad for uttering it in this sacred place so brazenly” I genuinely admonished her as I walked down the steps, “What brings you by anyway? I thought we were done pranking people for the day”
She looked a little offended, “So? That doesn’t mean we can’t hang out longer than that, but I do have to support Pinkie during this afternoon’s bake sale at Sugarcube Corner” She said, reminding me of my time limit of a couple hours.
“Funny… so do I” I drolly said, “I guess I could take some time out my schedule to devote to you” I made it seem like I was doing a selfless deed just to rack up the friendship points. In fact, I’m going to make a metaphysical meter that fills up whenever I do the opposite of what my asocial mind tells me to.
Rainbow rolled her eyes, “How kind of you. But can we do it at my place? You still need to proof read my story for me” She amicably requested. My deliberation on what course of action to follow didn’t take long. I haven’t gotten the chance to tour her home yet, why not?
“Sure, sure. Lead the way” I motioned for her to take the metaphorical reins. Let’s see what sort of train wreck of a narrative an amateur author like Dash can come up with.
We flew at Rainbow’s usual breakneck speeds until we reached the field over which her citadel-tower style cloud house floated. Streams of spectrum colored fluid fell like waterfalls from inlets in the structure, pouring Earthward in long jets of separate hues. Pond sized accumulations of the spectral liquid pooled up in troughs and made me wonder offhand what going for a swim in them would be like. Her house’s front patio was a fair deal larger than mine (not that I was jealous!) and had a winding path leading to the entrance. On the flipside, her front landing made up the majority of the structure’s mass, with only a fraction of it being dedicated to living quarters.
We touched down on the springy material lining the walkway and made for the doors. I couldn’t help but point out the monument to Rainbow Dash’s pride that was hanging over the entrance like some kind of advertisement board.
“I didn’t know Cloud Homes Incorporated did custom work, how else could you get a simulacrum of your Mana mark made in that size?” I tilted my head to the side as my eyes followed the curl of the rainbow’s comet like tail.
Rainbow bristled in offense to what I was implying, “Hey! Just because my dad is the company’s foreman doesn’t mean I get preferential treatment. That…” She gestured to her symbol, “…was a commission from a local woodworker’s business. Though the owner, Wood Chuck, did give me a nice discount as congratulations for being assigned as the local weather manager when I first moved here from Stratopolis” She admitted as she pushed open her doors and welcomed me in. I noted with faint amusement that her doors were as equally unlocked as mine.
‘I’ll bet Celestia pulled a few strings for that’ I cynically opined. Just because the Princess was becoming more open to me (or was that a clever ploy too?), didn’t mean that I fully approved of her methods.
The interior of Dash’s place was similar in construction to mine, with the minute difference being that her house lacked a classy foyer. Everything from the tile flooring to the marble support columns to the bowl shaped ceiling lamps were mostly the same though. I absently noticed that she had a clothing rack that had a white uniform and hard hat helmet that were just like the one’s we had to wear when we were exploring the weather factory. Because Rainbow’s residence was cylindrical shaped, the rooms themselves weren’t spacious. The view outside the window arches of the surrounding fields and forests was pretty though, not as breathtaking as mine, but I am the slightest bit biased in my favor.
The entryway slash living room was sparsely furnished, with only a velvet recliner sitting next to the windows being the only spot to plant my keister.
“Make yourself at home, I’ve got to grab some things and feed my pet tortoise, Tank” Rainbow politely proffered, before disappearing upstairs to do just that.
That reminds me, ‘Note to self, draw up tank designs in case they ever need to be mass produced. Wait… why would he be called Tank if battle tanks don’t exist here!?’ I grunted and massaged my temples as the pain settled in. The headache just wasn’t worth it.
I continued my evaluation of the room I was occupying, finding it to be less Spartan than I had initially presumed based on first glance. There was a featureless bust next to the half spiral stairwell that had some kind of winged crown that I recognized as being the prize for the Best Young Flyer contest that must have happened long enough ago that dust had begun to build up on the fringes of the faded gold metallic headwear. Next to the bust was a closet filled with clothes and… was that an old fashioned projector? I pushed past the wearable contents and analyzed the device that was sitting next to a pile of disk shaped silhouettes. Sure enough, it was an old fashioned projector machine that had two spokes in the top for setting the film reels. Old fashion may not have been an accurate description though, because there was no plug for powering the device anywhere on the body. After some more searching, I found an outlet cover that contained a brightly shining crystal inside, proving my hunch correct about it being powered by magical means.
Crystal mana batteries were interesting contrivances from what little I’ve read. Small scale ones can be set to draw in energy from the ambient magic saturating the background so that they never needed to be replaced, which made me theorize that my laptop and other undying electronic devices did the same. Large scale versions had to be charged directly, either manually by a Stellar Mage who specialized in gem related magic spells, or through special tools that allowed non magi to harness magic energy and shunt it into the crystal directly.
If I had to take a guess, I’d say that the flying V guitar and amp next to the recliner were powered by something similar. I so desperately wanted to call it Magi-Tech, but it wasn’t quite up to snuff with my standards for such a designation. I grabbed the loudly vibrant guitar and switched on the amp, which crackled for a moment before somehow wirelessly syncing to the instrument. The plastic plectrum was stuffed between the top E and A strings (I myself like to place mine into a nook inside of the headstock).
I sat down on the recliner and recalled the intro to a Breaking Benjamin song called So Cold that I had skipped when I was showing off my memorized music collection to Lyra (for obvious reasons, I should think). I praised the muscle memory spell once more for gifting me with trivial skills that I could use to fluently entertain at large gatherings as I experimentally plucked at the strings. Rainbow must not have used her guitar very often, because all of her strings were out of tune and had to be readjusted by ear. I also had to reorient myself mentally to the slimmer fret board of an electric guitar, which also had thinner strings overall that bugged me on a deeper level.
Once I had gotten over most of the malaise that accompanied the switch from an acoustic to an electric guitar, I began to perform the beginning to So Cold in earnest. I liked the amount of emotion that one could put into playing this song, which made for a great stress reliever since I did currently not possess the privacy and open aired space that the Shadow Opponent spell required. I didn’t sing, because the instrumental sound of this song spoke for itself.
A familiar feminine and raspy voice interrupted me somewhere in the mostly quiet lull between verse and chorus, “I know I told you to make yourself at home, but did you really have to rub your grubby hands all over my guitar?” Rainbow spoke up as she carried down a thick book lined with loosely shuffled papers and a pencil.
I strummed a chord for a final time before turning off the amp and putting the guitar back where I found it, muttering about how she ruined a perfectly good solo, “Yes, I felt this inexplicable need to rock out and not acting on it was out of the question. Forgive me if I appropriated your belongings to meet that need” I explained irritably.
“No, it’s cool! It’s been sitting there doing nothing but look pretty for weeks anyway. If it makes you feel any better, you have a lot more skill with that thing than I do and actually looked like you were into it. You should consider asking the Princess if she can get you on stage for the opening ceremony of the Arcanian athletic games” She mentioned with an indiscernible glint in her eyes. The measured way she suggested it made it appear as if she had an ulterior reason for doing so.
I leveled her with a skeptical gaze, “Wouldn’t that be showing preferential treatment if she granted me such a request? Just because I know Celestia on a first name basis doesn’t mean I should be asking favors like that” The old boy network never did sit right with me.
Rainbow seemed strangely adamant about this though, “No way! If you’ve got the talent and the connections, then you should make the most of them. Magiville needs more representation than just our sports team and flag bearers” She sat down next to me and scooted closer, “Although… if you do get to perform in the opening or half way concerts, can you use my guitar for it? Please?” She begged, her pupils gaining a maddeningly vulnerable gleam that made them hard to turn down.
I hemmed and hawed in insincere indecision for a half minute just to make Rainbow squirm from the anticipation, “Meh, why not…” I agreed with absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever.
Her shoulders visibly slumped at my torpid answer, “How is it that you can drain the joy out of even the most special occasions by being you? How do you expect to seize the spotlight and show everyone what you’re made of if you lack the zest!?”
I snorted, “Simple. By just doing so” I elucidated further when I saw that my words did not compute, “That’s one of the key differences between you and I, Dash. You thrive off of positive public opinion of yourself, while I’m indifferent to all general opinions formed about myself, be they good or ill. But I won’t let that stop me from functioning”
She stared blankly at me for a full minute, “You are one of the most mystifying people I have ever met… and I know Pinkie Pie” She finally said, using the energetic Baker as a benchmark for oddness.
“So I am! But are we not here to talk about your work and not myself?” I sarcastically interjected, holding out my open hand for Rainbow to show me her written novel in progress.
A nonplussed moue adorned her face as she slapped the notebook into one hand for reviewing and the pencil in the other for my annotating pleasure. It didn’t take me long to read Rainbow’s entire provisional novel, since I was naturally a speed reader that devoured the written word like an insatiable hippo. Speaking of speed, her penmanship had a sloppy slope to it that indicated that she jotted down whatever idea sounded the coolest as soon as it lit a light bulb above her skull. I couldn’t really fault her for that though, since my handwriting wasn’t flawless by any means either.
The storyline itself wasn’t terrible, and the characters within (other than her blindingly obvious authorial avatar) had distinct personalities and ideals that set them apart from each other. I did make a note telling her to tone down on the off hand tangents if she wasn’t going to tie them back into the main plotline. The outer story was about how, ugh… Danger Iris Dash joins an elite flight academy for up and coming professional aerialists. She actually took some of my advice to heart and made her a not perfect flyer that had to learn the tricks of the trade necessary to excel, and possessed a temper that put her studentship in jeopardy more often than not. I could tell that Rainbow had injected some of what she learned in flight school into the lessons, although she made them more exciting in the fact that they were trials by fire. Cadet Dash either got it right on the first try, or ‘had her wings clipped’ and got expelled from the austere academy.
Also amusing was the fact that Danger Dash made friends with five other Skyborn cadets who were suspiciously similar to Rainbow’s genuine cadre of pals in terms of personality, the only major difference was that they evenly shared her love of flying, lazing, and pranks (The blonde one named Surprise especially so). I approved of how well she set up the inner story in that Danger Dash began to have doubts about her abilities after accidentally getting one of her friends injured during a routine sweep exercise. There were even hints of a school wide conspiracy in the background that only compounded matters further. On another note, I underlined-starred the inclusion of a catch phrase for a rival character named ‘Lightning Flash’ that borrowed heavily from the introduction of a similarly named character created by Pixar.
While much of the story contained praiseworthy elements, there were some blunders as well. For instance, Danger Dash had an uncanny sense of intuition that allowed her to commandeer most of the plotline while casting most of her friends into relative obscurity in comparison. It would be okay if the story perspective was first person, but Rainbow leaned towards a close up third person point of view. The main antagonists who liked to play mind games in the shadows don’t reveal themselves until most of the tension in the storyline had passed. The reader is then tricked into thinking that the climax had not happened yet when Danger Dash gradually uncovers a plot by ‘the higher ups’ to instate a countrywide eugenics program by rigging the tests at the acclaimed school so that ninety percent of attendants washed out and using those statistics to begin a wave of policy changes regarding the ‘natural stock’ of the country’s citizens, particularly the foreign born students with various ‘undesirable’ traits. It was mildly shocking to discover that brand of fascist racism existed here and reminded me heavily of darker historical themes from back home. I was unsure how to feel about that, and that Rainbow would even want to write something along those lines.
Rainbow herself had gotten bored by the two minute mark and my refusal to say anything about her work until I was done reviewing the whole piece only aggravated her more. She pulled out the projector that I was so enthralled with earlier and was watching old recordings of Wonderbolt rallies and airshows that were distortedly portrayed against the curvature of a blank wall. I was quietly dumbfounded by how the projector even had speakers to emanate sound, which made them much more advanced than I gave them credit for. I let out a shrill whistle once I was done to let her know that I was finished.
Rainbow shut off the projector and put it aside, “Well what do you think?” She asked with an undertone of self aware nervousness.
“Like any story in its early stages, it has its shining moments and parts that need revision. There was one thing that I wanted to ask about, though”
“Yeah?”
“Why did you feminize me?” At her blank expression I rephrased my inquiry, “There’s this unnamed character that you introduce somewhere in the middle arc who keeps a cool head in tense situations and cracks tawdry jokes at inappropriate times, but is also extremely phlegmatic and doesn’t hesitate to do what she thinks needs to be done” Pretty close analogue to myself, all things considered. Albeit, my jokes aren’t tawdry. But they are snarky.
Rainbow was sheepish to say the least as she rubbed at her prominent neck length hair, “Heh, I didn’t think you would notice that. I made a female version of you because I felt it was somehow easier to relate with. But I guess that I was just having trouble thinking up a name for her that mirrored yours, and ‘The American’ is already taken” She jested with a light titter.
“The opposite of my designation is technically Nadir. But if you’re searching for a name that mirrors mine, you should go with Zion” I recommended as I closed the now marked book shut.
Don’t ask me why I already had a name ready when Femcord offered me a ‘sex’ change, I tend to overthink even the most improbable of circumstances. It’s probably a huge reason why I can simply overlook how Pinkie regularly defies the rules governing natural and magical phenomena.
Her crooked her neck, “Zion? What kind of name is that? And how do you already have a name in mind for girl you? Have you been fantasizing about what it’s like from a girl’s perspective? I’ll bet Twilight has a spell that can let you do that” She smirked deviously at me, causing me to narrow my eyes at her.
Trying to get a rise out of me I see. I’ll admit that she got uncomfortably close with that jab.
‘One that isn’t a noun, adjective, verb, adverb or other syntactical device…’ Is what I wanted to say at first, but Rainbow didn’t strike me as being the most grammatically astute person, so I resorted to using an answer that she would understand.
“A damn good one, that’s what. And I’m quite attached to my equipment, thank you very much” I stiffly corrected, “Other than that, your story isn’t what I was expecting… which is mostly a good thing. I think you just might have what it takes to be a decent storyteller, Rainbow”
“Yay… I’d hate to have disappointed the prodigious and wise Zenith” She mockingly droned, wiggling her hands in the air for dramatic flair. The wry smile on her face betrayed how she really felt about my verdict though.
I grinned and stroked an imaginary beard, “You still have much to learn in the ways of sarcasm, young grasshopper” I said in my nearest approximation of the sensei voice.
The rest of my time at Rainbow’s was spent seeing the rest of her home and pretending to be in awe at all the cool Wonderbolt memorabilia that she had compiled over the years, including a trainee flight suit that she proudly displayed on a mannequin that she borrowed from Rarity’s. I got to meet Tank and marvel at the miniscule magical device strapped to his back that essentially turned him into a helicopter with a shell. Tank might have been the only other pet I’ve seen in these parts that could possibly beat Gummy in a staring contest (not that I would ever want to be the judge at such a competition). The rest of the house was just as sparsely furnished as it was downstairs, although Rainbow made it clear that she never stayed indoors long enough to care.
I was tempted to bring up the topic of her ambivalence regarding physical togetherness whenever things got tediously boring. Heck, I even wanted to ask if she knew that her estranged friend Gilda was Royalty. But both were themes that would instantly end the genial atmosphere we had built up. Therefore I kept my mouth shut as Rainbow continued to show and tell every little thing she deemed cool (which was practically the whole lot).
We eventually found ourselves soaking our feet in one the rainbow pools on a balcony overlooking the incredible scenery below (I had to remove my boots and hold the fringes of my robe to the side to keep them from getting stained). There must have been some kind of magical properties in the spectral fluid because it soothed the soles of my fleshy shoes like nothing I had ever experienced before. Even my depleted mana reserves were feeling somewhat reinvigorated after five minutes in contact with the stuff!
Rainbow herself assaulted me with a line of questioning pertaining to my background and the values that were instilled in me over the course of my life. Being the Element of Loyalty meant that she wanted to know more about the person she was establishing a friendship with beyond what she could tell in person. I was resistant at first but started to give in once she made it a fair trade by telling me about how her dad had taught her to pursue her goals with all she had and more, never giving up if she could help it.
I reciprocated and related to her how I came from a family that valued their faith above all things, and used that as a basis for imprinting moral principles upon me. Even as I grew older and began to question the weight of some of these morals, I tested them in all the conceivable ways I knew how and found them to be tempered from the heat of the trials. I also admitted to her that despite this, I often strayed away from my teachings and paid the price for it somewhere down the line.
Rainbow managed to intrigue me by divulging that she too believed in an unseen higher power watching over everyone and every single thing. When I asked her what event helped her make that conclusion for herself, she told me about how she surveyed the beauty of the Earth below as she soared in the skies above on a daily occurrence. ‘Nothing so mind blowingly radical could be the result of random chance, there’s gotta be some big cheese calling the shots from somewhere to make sure that we don’t screw it up’ was her reasoning, which made me chuckle as I envisioned it.
“You’re a special girl, Rainbow Dash. There’s no denying that” I remarked as I made small ripples in the pool with my feet.
Oddly enough, Rainbow was bashful at my sincere words, “You’re just saying that. Despite my efforts to impress everyone, I’m not all that exceptional beyond a few fancy tricks in the air and dizzying speed on a straightaway. My friends are much more well rounded in everything else… if you ask me”
I found meekness unbecoming of the athlete. She should leave that to her long time friend Fluttershy.
Her unexpected humility did not dissuade me, “Nonsense! You are as profound as the story in which your namesake is central”
She seemed interested in the point I was attempting to make, “What story is that?”
I thought about how I should phrase this without giving away too much, “Back where I’m from, we have a big book of stories explaining the history of our people and how we should strive to live our lives based upon the message each story conveys. The one I’m about to tell you is one of the very first and perhaps the most calamitous in scope. It talks about how in the early stages of the world’s development, people were so selfish and mind numbingly sinful that their creator felt it prudent to simply wipe them out with a great purge and start over. However, not everyone committed themselves to evil acts on a regular basis, for among them was a humble and righteous man who along with his family still honored the ways of good”
Rainbow interjected her opinion, “Wait… I can understand that these people were bad, but to wipe them all out? Couldn’t they be redeemed through the values of Friendship and Harmony like us?” She reasoned, unwilling to see an utterly evil person as just that. I couldn’t really hold that naiveté against her, for I once felt much the same.
“If what the story says is true… then these people were so far gone that their every waking thought was destructive to both the world and themselves. They were considered to be irredeemably corrupt by their God, and a truly all powerful being is never wrong in passing judgment” Rainbow didn’t appear to like this answer, but accepted it for the sake of listening.
“The Lord informs the righteous man named Noah, that the land is to be cleansed by a great flood that would wash away the filth that his inequitable neighbors had built up over their existence. He also instructs him to prepare for this event by building a massive boat, or Ark, to house two of every animal; one male and one female, along with their provisions for what would undoubtedly be an arduous interlude”
Dash chuckled, “Fluttershy could have definitely helped them with that task. And then what happened?” She wanted to know more.
I ceased eye contact and gazed skyward, “It rained. For forty days and forty nights, a downpour unlike anything ever witnessed came down from the Heavens, until the waters rose high above even the loftiest mountaintops. And every living thing save for those sheltered inside of the Ark, perished. The land remained submerged for a further one hundred and fifty days. After this period, the Lord pulled the figurative plug and forced the waters to recede and subside until the Ark found itself nestled on a mountain. Noah sent out birds to determine whether or not the land had dried up enough for his family to leave the boat (which likely stunk to the High Heavens at that point). After the third attempt, a dove that he sent out didn’t return, and he knew that the land was no longer underwater. The Lord then gave Noah the go ahead to vacate the Ark with his family and every animal that he had brought with him”
“And everything was good right? But what does that have to do with what you said?” Despite her impatience, I could tell that she was enraptured in the tale.
I held up a hand, “I’m almost there. When all was said and done, and mankind was given a chance to begin anew, the Lord presented Noah and his family with a very special symbol. It was a sign that represented his loyalty to stand by his Covenant; or promise, to never again inundate his creation with the intent of erasing it”
I took my sight off the fountain of colors that poured forth from Dash’s cloud home and looked at her, “Can you guess what that symbol was?”
She leaned closer, “Tell me” She breathed, knowing the obvious answer, but wanting me to declare it aloud for her.
I peered into those lovely magenta irises of hers, “It was a beautiful rainbow, set in the clouds in all of its glorious splendor” I said as I drew the story to a close, breaking away from the intimate proximity between Rainbow and myself, “I believe it’s almost time for that bake sale, don’t you think?” I said, nodding towards a clock to our rear that indicated that we only had three minutes to make it to Sugarcube Corner before the kick off of the sale and the Princess’s dual purposed arrival.
“Oh, Celestia! You’re right!” She exclaimed, before tossing me a towel that she had stored in a nearby cabinet for wiping my Technicolor feet with and doing the same for herself, “C’mon, we don’t want to be late or Pinkie will have both our hides!” She hissed while I sat there amused by the anxious haste by which she conducted herself.
We dried off and put on our shoes in short order before racing back to town to where the famous confectionary was located. I drew the beaked hood over my face and enshrouded it in shadow to conceal my identity. This allowed for unrestricted flight all the way to our destination, which had a line out the door as people waited for a chance to purchase some sugary goodies. Rainbow whistled for my attention and pointed to an open window in Pinkie’s loft room. I surmised that she wanted to skip the lines and get straight to offering Pinkie and the Cakes whatever support they needed for the crowded affair. I gave her the O.K. hand signal and we squeezed inside before making our way downstairs where the sounds of ongoing commotion could be heard.
“Got two more orders of cookie dough chocolate steak and a side of candy bar fries hon!” The harried voice of Carrot Cake spoke up over the chatter.
“At this rate we’re going to have to make more of this candied barbeque! Did Zenith give you the recipe for them?” Cup Cake inquired of her life partner.
“Afraid not dearest. He didn’t even tell Pinkie how to craft them” Carrot Cake replied morosely.
I felt Dash elbow me as she listened in on the same verbal exchange, “Dude, you never told me that you were a baker!” She whispered.
“I’m not! I was just replicating the creations of some cooking celebrities back home” I murmured back, I didn’t predict that the fruits of my labor would be in such outrageously high demand.
I spied Pinkie wearing a candy cane striped diner’s outfit while tending to the customers who sat down in the booths to order their treats. She skillfully juked and zig zagged her way around patrons who were filling up what little room there was on the floor as she carried two trays piled tall with both her cupcakes and my homage to American summer food. I slinked past the thick mass of customers on the storefront deck while furtively eavesdropping on random comments and conversations with their kith.
“These fake hot dogs are delicious, and they look so close to the real thing too!” One girl said as she evaluated the false frankfurter at eye level.
“Mmm… candy burger makes belly happy” One guy absently complimented before suppressing a belch that repulsed some neighboring females.
“Hey, did you see that one guy whose welcome party we attended a few weeks ago flying? I thought he was a Mage?” Uh oh… I couldn’t get away from my carelessness scot free after all.
“Nah, you were just seeing things Orchid. That would mean he was a Trifect! And everybody knows that there are only three in the Royal Family, all of them women” What a matriarchal argument that she made.
“Yeah… I guess you’re right” Miss Orchid conceded after a beat.
Well at least it played in my favor.
With my previous worries come and gone, I intercepted Pinkie before she went back to the kitchen for another batch of desserts, “Hey Pinks, I’m back for the bake sale. I take it that my candy barbeque idea was well received?”
She snorted and flapped a hand at me, “Silly Zenith! Well received is an understatement. This is the biggest, most populariest bake sale we’ve had since the time I made cupcakes with an ambrosia filled center!” She leaned towards me and looked both ways in case someone was watching us before speaking in a low conspiratorial voice, “That’s alcohol”
I smirked at this revelation. T’would be surprising if it weren’t so funny imagining people getting a good buzz from something so seemingly innocent as a cupcake.
“Cool beans. Anything you need me to help out with?” I politely offered, despite how this place was set profit wise, thanks in large part to my whimsical fancy.
“That’s so nice of you to offer! You could teach me and the Cakes how to make more of these treats! They’ve even decided to make them a permanent addition to our inventory, isn’t that splenderific?”
“Sure thing, Pinks” I revealed to her the method for reproducing the candied delights, jokingly insisting that shudder shades and a hat with a handle were crucial to the baking process. She pulled a fountain pen and notepad out of her unfathomable hair and wrote down everything I said verbatim.
After disclosing the not so complex tricks of the trade, she bade me to mingle with the people so she could talk to ‘Dashie’. I sighed hopelessly as I found myself in another situation where people expected me to socialize when I really couldn’t be bothered to care.
But there are exceptions to every rule, and I made mine as soon as I felt Lyra sneakily ambush me with a hug while I was sidling along an unoccupied wall with the smallest concentration of people.
I started for a moment before realizing that it was just the lyrist and returned the affectionate gesture, “Hey Golden Eyes. How’d you know it was me?”
“There’s only one other guy living in this town that towers over everybody like you do, and he doesn’t dress with as much… sophistication, as you” She gave a muffled answered as she smothered her face against my right arm.
“Oh… I guess you’re right” I said dumbly, “So how was Concordia?” I cut right to the chase as she ceased physical contact.
She sucked in air through her teeth, “It… went very well, actually. There were a couple road bumps at the beginning, what with my parents not recognizing me at first. But as soon as I removed all the junk that they barricaded my old room with and wiped the dust off of a family picture to show to them, it was like a switch was flicked and they could deny that they had a daughter no longer” She beamed at me, her eyes sparkling with unspoken gratitude for giving her a second chance.
“That’s wonderful Lyra!” I spoke genuinely, not feeling even the teensiest bit jealous that she could speak with her family while I could not, “Did you spend much time with them? I imagine that you’d have a lot to catch up on after such a long absence”
She nodded and clapped her hands together excitedly, “M’hmm. It got even better too! The longer I remained, the more they began to remember about me. From all the musical plays they took me to when I was a little girl, to the day that they gave me my Lyre and told me to be the best I could be, and to inspire that greatness in others!” I grinned as she relayed this good news to me. This girl’s ardor could rival Pinkie’s at the moment.
She then elbowed me and sent me a saucy expression, “I was also able to hear all about that fashion show gig that I could tell Rarity pressganged you into. People simply wouldn’t shut up about how you took all the accepted codes of behavior for male models and just tore them up in front of everyone… and most of them loved you for it” Heh, the others likely saw me as an uncouth ruffian with no respect for tradition.
That wasn’t a gig I’d be doing again anytime soon. I was indifferent with the adulation from afar, but the loss of privacy pissed me off, plain and simple.
“The only reason I did that was because I couldn’t groove to the snooze worthy music that they provided Neon with. So I swapped the tracks with my own and claimed the walkway for myself” I explained. Though that’s not to say that the other guys didn’t get with the program and have some fun themselves.
She giggled, “Such a rebel. But I’d expect nothing less from my Snark Knight” She adjusted her melodious voice to match the ‘prim and proper lady of the castle’ accent.
I placed a hand on my chest and bowed slightly, “Ever at your service” To complete the act, I took her hand in mine and laid a tender kiss on her knuckles, eliciting a light blush out of the flustered woman.
“A-are all extraterrestrials as extravagant in their actions as you?” She asked as she fanned her face with her free hand.
“Only the cool ones” I smirked rakishly as I caressed her fingers with a thumb, returning her appendage once I had my fun making her melt under my ministrations.
“Your people must have a strange definition of cool then” She quipped back good naturedly, “Listen. I have something on my mind that I’ve been meaning to ask of you for a while now” Her reddened state did not diminish. If anything, it burned hotter.
“Speak your mind”
My voice seemed to have a calming effect on her and she took a deep breath to compose herself before making her appeal, “Would you mind if I bought you a drink at the local watering hole sometime?”
I blinked and was silent for a few seconds. Was Lyra attempting to court me?
She took my faint hesitance for rejection, “Oh I didn’t me-!” I laid a finger on her velvety lips so I could speak.
I smiled to her, “I accept. Though I must warn you, alcohol has little to no visible effect on me” I notified her. The hazy pink hallucinations the other day notwithstanding.
I should have seen something like this coming beforehand, but I honestly did not expect Lyra to seek a more than platonic relationship with a distant person like me. I could have gently turned her down, but I was physically incapable of doing so. Not without my own heart railing against me. To truly understand someone… is to love them. And from my brief stay in the interior of her very being, I got a clearer picture of her than anyone who has ever known her ever did. I saw her life through her eyes. I shared in her triumphs, her struggles, her heartaches… everything. I experienced every embittered emotion that coursed through her blood and burned like fire during the duration of her ‘exile’. Yet like a stubborn tree that would not bend to gale force winds, she endured her trial and turned bitter into bittersweet. I am of the mind that she could say the same thing of me, but she’s not reacting like how I’d picture she would if she did, so maybe there’s still a selective filter. That’s just fine by me. Half of a relationship is figuring the other person out anyway… I think.
Her blissful smile was the widest I’ve ever seen it, “Such a boast! Berry Punch might take that as a challenge you know?” She poked me in the chest for my self assertive declaration.
I was assured of victory, “I’ll prove to both you and Berry that a Trifect’s insane tolerance for alcohol is a force to be reckoned with”
‘Who knows? Maybe we can get her drunk and score big time’ That one ignoble part of every man’s drive, referred to as libido, injected its prurient opinion.
‘Shut up brain’ Fortunately, chivalry was there to repress it.
The general chitchat of the people dying down in volume demanded my immediate attention. I bid Lyra a fond farewell and made a promise to visit sometime so we could discuss the particulars of a civilization that was not of this world in solitude. The cause of the silencing became clear once I saw Rainbow at the opposite end of the bakery making exaggerated motions like she was giving a speech. Once I was able to get close enough for my hearing to discern what she was saying beyond the murmurs that were still being passed around, I found out that she was indeed doing just that.
“You guys know how the athletic games are fast approaching right?” She asked her audience, who mostly answered in the affirmative, “Well we’ve got our teams representing our town on the official roster, of which I am the proud Captain. But what would guys think if we also got cred for having one of our own performing on stage during either the opening ceremony concert or the halfway show?” There was further murmuring before a positive consensus was reached and they voiced their approval.
She grinned cockily as she laid eyes on me, “I’m glad that you agree with me. The problem is… I don’t think he believes that he has the skill to do it justice, so how would you like him to give you a demonstration of just how wrong he really is?” Her inquiry was met with a resounding cheer.
‘Ackbar senses… tingling’ Too little, too late I’m afraid. Never the less, I futilely tried to worm my way out of this.
“As much as I’d love to entertain you nice folks with a ditty or two… I neglected to bring my-”
“Here you go!” Pinkie thrust my instrument into my grasp with one hand on the neck and the other holding up a tray as she resumed her rounds.
“…Guitar. Thank you Pinkie” I seethed through gritted teeth.
“You’re welcome!” She cheerfully said before making her way to a waiting table of customers, completely immune to the contempt I projected towards her with those words.
Rainbow’s smug expression only made my scowl worsen. Until a shrew scheme formulated itself in my mind that assured our mutual self consciousness. I motioned for the crowd to clear a space where I could sit down on a wooden stool while an audience gathered around me, eagerly awaiting their free performance. I kept the hood on, which puzzled my listeners, but enabled me to stay incognito to anyone who couldn’t assign a face to my voice.
“Before I begin, I’d just like to dedicate this song to the girl who seems to think so highly of my skill with a stringed instrument” I unclipped the capo and adjusted it to clamp down on the correct fret, “This one’s for you, Rainy”
With that, I began to strum to the tune of Howie Day’s ‘Collide’. Despite my aversion to it, the lyrics were just too fitting for me not to sing them. As predicted, the girls instantly fell in love with the melody and its meaning. The dudes were decidedly less enamored by it, but respected my ability to keep a tune anyway. I stole glances at the instigator of this hullabaloo and was pleased to see her frowning openly, either at the usage of her affectionate nickname or the fact that anyone with a half a brain would be able to tell that I devoted this song to her and would teasingly rib her about it.
I received a long lasting round of applause once the final notes faded into the air and I bowed respectfully. I then sought out Pinkie and asked her nicely to put my guitar back exactly where she found it once it was convenient for her. My timing couldn’t have been better, as a duo of guards muscled their way through the front entrance to officially announce to the denizens of the town the arrival of their esteemed Princess of the Day. I was glad that she forwent the fanfare and settled for walking inside like an ordinary person. Everyone present dropped to one knee in subservience, except for myself. I settled to acknowledge her with an incline of my head. Her guards (who couldn’t tell it was me underneath the hood) went ramrod straight at what they saw as insolence, and made to apprehend my person before Celestia stopped them with a single effortless wave of her hand.
She looked around with a smile, “Rise, my precious subjects. Be at ease” She commanded with a powerful, yet warm and benevolent voice.
They obeyed like trained puppies and got to their feet before swarming their ruler and heaping praise after praise onto her. They thanked her for things that she couldn’t even be indirectly responsible for, like meeting a romantic partner or being inspired to write a poem about ducks. Still, the Sun Regent bore their misplaced veneration with tactful grace that was clearly second nature to her after so many years of ascendancy.
They couldn’t see what I did, how that semi false smile held back more than they could possibly ever know in their relatively short lives. How those calculating eyes weighed every decision made and word spoken on a balance that regularly determined the fate of them all. The more I saw Celestia in this light, the more wary I become of taking a position of supreme leadership myself.
I wasn’t foolish or in denial. I knew that being a Trifect meant having an extended lifespan that was practically indefinite. That given time, all the relationships I have forged thus far would be terminated by death. I would stay the same while everyone I have ever come to care for would gradually wilt and shrivel like freshly cut flowers suspended in a glass vase. That was a massive reason why I was so hesitant to get too close to anyone, for fear that their passing would leave an indelible mark upon my spirit that would always agonize me whenever I saw something that reminded me of them.
However, I was under no delusions that I would live forever, and that my time would inevitably come as well. Being an immortal simply meant that I could no longer reliably predict when that time would be. But it wasn’t all bad news on the ageless life front. I didn’t have to worry about getting wrinkles or that dry elderly smell, and I knew that I would almost always have the company of the other immortals; even if they’re a little bit eccentric once you get to know them (don’t even get me started on Discord).
Perhaps that’s one of the explanations as to why Celestia mollycoddles her subjects the way she does. After her long life of making hard choices and putting up with God knows how many dire situations, their innocence is one of the few things that she can look forward to. Almost like a mother coming home after a stressful day of work to find her children having taken care of their chores and even making a ‘Welcome back Mom! We appreciate you’ banner. The kind of heartening goodness and virtue that once lost… is never quite found again. I know this certitude intimately.
I pondered all of this as I blended into the background and beheld Celestia and her subjects laugh and make merry. Her eyes met mine and an unspoken understanding was exchanged between us. The Princess sampled some of my creations after the Cakes made a fresh batch and found them to her liking. Her eyes glinted mischievously at me as she gave her thanks to the chef behind the idea of creating delectable desserts that resembled full course meals. I rolled mine and remained mostly unsociable, shrugging off attempts by both Dash and Pinkie to get me to hold a conversation for longer than five seconds.
Not much interesting happened in the hours that passed. Mrs. Cake brought both of her children down to meet the person who rose the Sun each morning and the collective females ‘aww’d’ at their adorable little faces. Young Pound Cake saw a woman in the crowd with two toned blue and periwinkle hair and parroted the words that he was not meant to hear from yesterday while pointing at her. The woman actually had a bit of a mental breakdown and uttered a jeremiad of woes about how she was unappreciated when she was just doing her job. When no one did anything to comfort her, I resentfully (and maybe just a mite culpably) got off my ass and spoke kindly to her. I let her know that she was making a mountain out of a molehill and that without her, most people in that same room would have teeth riddled with cavities and excruciatingly sensitive gums from rampant gingivitis.
Imagine the enormity of my dismay when instead of just cheering up and allowing me to become a wallflower once more; she noted that she’d never seen me before and that she did free checkups. I couldn’t say no without making everything I’d said null and void, so I grumbled out something that sounded like a ‘Count on it’ and all was well after some dental scheduling. Pound Cake was scolded by his mother for his crass language and interrogated as to who would impress such words upon him.
The tiny bugger tried to sell me out, but couldn’t point to me in the sea of faces. When his mother pressed further, he only murmured ‘Pan Man’ and suckled on his fingers to complete the deception of appearing to be a blameless Angel, successfully inveigling his warden. I spotted Celestia giving me a knowing, not to mention disapproving look as an aside and I shrugged in response, at least nobody besides her would suspect me of being a foul mouth.
The bake sale progressively wound down as people bought treats to take back home or stuffed their faces and rolled back their abodes. Dash continually badgered me to suck up to the Princess and get myself a role in the athletic games. When I finally agreed to it to get her to piss off, she had the gall to fist pump and left the bakery with a bumptious swagger in her step. Pinkie had already gotten to work sweeping up all of the crumbs and rubbish left behind. Celestia even offered to help with a helpful application of her magic, despite the Cake’s protests that she not lift a finger to do so. Me? I signaled to the Princess that I would wait outside for her and egressed the building.
The bake sale had operated for much longer than I estimated earlier, for the Sun was well into its descent beneath the horizon, heralding the beginning of the evening. I walked past the ever stoic guards who were policing the doorway and found a spot where I could lean against something while retaining an unfettered line of sight on my surroundings. The Princess emerged after ten minutes of waiting and issued a command to her bodyguard to await her at the carriage while she conducted strictly private business. They complied without fuss and marched away, their armor making metallic rattling noises as they fell into step side by side.
She plotted a course for the treebrary and gestured for me to walk with her, “Hello again, Zenith. I must say that you are most striking in those ravishing robes. Our dear Rarity always had a penchant for crafting outfits that accentuated the best in its wearer, but I digress. Been up to any mischief lately?” An imperceptible grin graced her smooth lips.
I acted casual, not questioning how she had hit the nail on the head, “Nothing beyond a few harmless pranks here and there. Rainbow supplied some pretty imaginative ideas herself” I remarked while examining my fingernails.
“I am immensely gladdened to hear that you’ve been taking my advice to heart. Even if its application thus far has been… playful at best” She observed with mild amusment.
“In spite of the aloof impression that I’ve been giving off, I have been properly spending most of my time with the girls. Although Twilight and I haven’t really made a connection yet” My expression morphed into a disappointed scowl, “Or should I say, not the kind of connection that friends are supposed to establish”
Celestia sighed as I brought up my grievance, “I promise you that Twilight meant for the best, even if her methods were… unsavory in their execution” I could hear the grimace in her tone. She was legitimately rueful about this bunkum.
She turned to me, “You must know that she was once as purposely self isolating as you were. To meet another who had a similar disposition but was unreceptive to the same happenings that helped her to realize that Friendship is key to Harmony forced her to search for explanations that she could use to devise more effective means of educating you” She explicated, knowing the mindset of her longtime student almost better than she did.
‘You say education, I say consensual brainwashing’ Nothing ever felt right about forced socialization, regardless of how pure its principles were. Not to me it didn’t. But then again, I’m meeting them halfway… or at the very minimum, trying to.
“I am not some equation to be solved” I replied grumpily, “I’m a man with an extensive set of personal boundaries. All of which your pupil knowingly tread upon without consideration or regret” Leastways until she got her prized ‘explanation’ for why I prefer to be a loner.
Celestia was undeterred by my sour attitude, “Which is, in large part, why we are going to resolve this together” She said as the top of the town library came within visual distance. We went up to welcoming mat and I took to the forefront.
I craned my neck around to speak to the Princess, “I’ll go in first since I need to gauge just how deep of a rut that Twilight has dug herself into. You can covertly listen in right?” At her affirmation, I continued, "You enter whenever you feel it appropriate or if I brush my left hand through my hair” I pulled down my hood, so she could see the action and so that I wouldn’t come off as impersonal to the person whose dulled attitude I was solely responsible for.
I customarily knocked on the door twice before entering, the smell of old books and parchment greeting my nostrils as always. Given how exceedingly quiet the Golden Oak Library typically was, my hearing could pick up the faint scratching sounds of an ink pen being pressed to paper upstairs. To my right, Spike was standing on the rungs of a rolling ladder while reorganizing one of the shelves.
It took him a few seconds of staring before he eventually recognized my face, “Hello, Zenith. Cool robe! Did you come here for some texts?” He asked as he expeditiously completed his task and hopped down from the ladder.
“Maybe another time. I was hoping to speak with Twilight… privately” I added, my tone brooking no protest from either of them in this matter.
“Uhh… sure!” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “But she kind of explicitly gave me instructions that she didn’t want to be accosted by anybody”
I regarded him coolly, “Then it’s a good thing I’m not here to accost her. Just tell I’m here to see her” I instructed, “I get the feeling that she’s been wanting to speak with me anyhow”
Spike nodded and did as I asked him to, running up the stairs and knocking on her door. I could hear it open and harsh whispering was exchanged for a few moments before one pair of light footsteps could be heard advancing down the hallway. Based on the unique sound every person’s stride makes, I could easily deduce that Twilight was coming down to meet me by herself. She descended the stairs with no discernible expression on her face, although there was dimness in her eyes that was very much out of place on the woman. The same dispassionately empty look that I witnessed whenever I faced a mirrored surface.
She maintained that listless dragging of her feet until we were face to face, “Zenith. I’ve been expecting you” She droned to me in monotone. Her voice was devoid of most inflection.
Is this what it’s like to converse with someone like me? I would resolve to fix this for that reason alone.
I raised an eyebrow, “Have you now? And why would that be?”
She lethargically raised her arm and pointed her index finger at me, “You are the only one who can help me see” When I remained silent she elucidated further, “Why is it that we should persist when all of our motivation is robbed of us?” She asked.
“You are presumptuous to assume that our lack of motivation is common ground for us. But I wouldn’t be mistaken to infer that you know that I have something to do with how you hardly feel, would I?”
She nodded stiffly, “That is correct. Owlowiscious informed me that you had some kind of involvement based on a comment you made after carrying me upstairs. One concerning a burden of the heart"
I hummed in thought, I knew that having an avian witness would come back to haunt me, “A burden that we will not be sharing for much longer, thankfully”
I grabbed both of her arms and made a decision that could go either way. But Twilight would once again become the bookish nerd I had met before all this, “Twilight Sparkle. I’m going to remove those fillings in your memory that I know you don’t believe in the slightest. The memories you do find will be painful, but you will finally have the answers you seek. Do you accept this arrangement?”
‘Do it’ She mouthed in consent, looking me deep in the eyes.
I took that cue as permission to do what I needed to, my eyes lit up with magic as I scoured her mind of all the false memories I had implanted. I removed everything that obscured her recollection of the event. I didn’t want to originally do this when I first inhibited her, but it was high time for both of us to truthfully come clean to each other like human beings. The action was like the bursting of a dam, and nothing but frigid emotion poured forth and ignited each nerve in her body. I withdrew from her head and found myself enwrapped in her embrace as she buried her ear against my beating heart. She mercifully wasn’t openly sobbing or anything, but I could see that her face was glistening with tears.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sor-” She repeated like a broken record.
I rocked her lightly to terminate her trance, “Hey. It’s alright. You’re forgiven, okay?” I brushed my hand down her hair, which smelled like Lavender and ink.
She pulled away and stared incredulously at me, “But I hurt you so much. In the name of Friendship of all things! How could you ever forgive me for that?”
Despite the overwhelming seriousness of the situation, a short chuckle escaped me, “What you did, hurt you a helluva lot more than it did me, bookworm” I gently corrected, wiping away the wetness around her eyes with a thumb.
“Pain doesn’t even begin to describe the immensity of what I witnessed, and to think that I forced my way i-” I cut her off.
“You didn’t force your way into anything Twilight. I let you in” I enunciated slowly, letting that sink in for a bit.
She was flabbergasted, “I-it took less e-effort and was much easier to gain access inside a Trifect’s mind than I estimated. B-but why? Why let me in?” She stuttered, unable to process what I had just revealed to her.
I shrugged noncommittally, “Partly because resisting was incredibly uncomfortable, and partly because… you needed to see what you did” I tentatively explained, coming to this unsettling realization some time back.
She shook her head and sniffled, “I’ll never forget the turbulent cascade of memories that I gleaned from you. Was that what Fluttershy and Pinkie saw in the Harmonic Nexus of the Elements?” Was her conjecture. It was an interesting designation regardless. I’d have to remember that one.
“They got the abridged version, only you got the full picture” Otherwise they’d have been even more emotional about it.
“Oh Zenith…” She hugged me again. Why were these people always so touchy feely?
She spoke softly to me in a sympathetic voice I’ve never heard her use, “I once felt the way you do, that I didn’t need anyone. That I could build up these walls around my heart and just… shut the world away” Her compassionate eyes were still agleam with unspilt tears, “But after all of the heartfelt connections that I made with my friends here, I learned that there is a better way. One that isn’t so alone. One filled with the unparalleled light of Harmony”
She took my hands and held them against her bosom (not in a perverted way. Clearly she was holding them close to her heart), “I swear to you on my life, on my honor, on my very magic… that my friends and I will never seek to deliberately hurt you, or purposely estrange you. I know you might not believe this, but we love you far too much to maliciously cause you harm”
I was touched, to say the least.
She enveloped me in her arms and pressed her face into my chest for a third time, “Words cannot express to you how remorseful I am for invading your very soul. I just wanted to discover why you’re so… cold, and apathetic to everything” She retracted herself, leaving a damp patch on my robes (she’s the only one so far to not make a comment on what I’ve been wearing, much to my amusement), “Now I know, and I will do everything in my power to show you a new perspective. One less cynical and more meaningful” She smiled at me, “And my friends will show you that too”
I did my best to reflect the expression, “I don’t doubt that. Even with what my mind and heart are screaming at me, I do not doubt that at all” I subtly ran my left hand through my hair, growing weary of all this drama.
“Anyways, there’s someone else beside me who’d like to speak with you. A certain woman with a majestic aura about her” I meant that last part literally, given my extra sense for nearby extremely powerful beings.
Her brow furrowed, “Who?” Apparently I was too liberal with my wording.
I rolled my eyes at her obliviousness, “The one you owe your allegiance to, bookworm. Leave the hoo’ing to the owl” I quipped, as was customary.
The door opened and Celestia made an entrance, her wavy hair billowing in an unseen breeze and covering one of her eyes like it invariably did, “Good evening, my student”
Twilight was aghast, “Princess Celestia!? Oh no, oh no, oh no!” I could hear her susurrate.
“What’s wrong? You’re not in trouble or anything if that’s what’s worrying you” Even if she broke a law or two digging around in my being.
“I am in deep trouble!” She disagreed vehemently, “I’m all out of tea to welcome her!” She sibilated, biting on her nails and looking anywhere but at her teacher. I swear that I saw a hair or two that was beginning to stick upwards.
I was vaguely impressed with how she made such a trivial matter sound like the end of the world.
I failed to see the problem, “So?”
“So!? Princess Celestia loves her tea! For every occasion that she visits, I make sure to have a cup of her favorite Elysian tea prepared for her!” She spouted, loudly hyperventilating at this point.
I guess she had a semi valid point. Back when I resided at the palace, I rarely ever saw Celestia without a steaming cup of leafy liquid within arm’s reach.
“Okay. I can just run out and get the ingredients for you” I offered, my role here was pretty much over with anyhow.
“You don’t understand! I get the ingredients from Zecora, and she lives out in the Neverfree forest!”
“Then I’ll just stop by Zecora’s place and tell her that you sent me” I helpfully suggested.
“Bu-” I would have no more of her borderline neurosis.
“Look… would you rather you keep your mentor waiting? Or would you rather get the pleasantries out of the way while I fetch her the ingredients for this mandatory tea?” I countered with reason.
She sighed miserably, “The latter…” She finally conceded, while Celestia and I shared a knowing look at her student’s quirky antics.
⁂
Twilight gave me the directions to get to Zecora’s and made it clear that I needed to stay on the dirt path at all times. She also directed me to give her a note to from her to Zecora, asking for other reagents that the reclusive herbalist supplied her with. I grumbled at little at being turned into an errand boy, but it was preferable to being a third wheel in whatever emotionally tense discussion the student and the teacher were going to have.
The aforementioned dirt path branched off in multiple directions at its terminus, but the telltale yellowish glow of candlelight could be seen coming from a tree like home not far off in the distance. I really hated the sensations that I received when traversing inside of that damnable jungle-marsh, but the air was oddly silent the whole way. It was almost as if something had occurred recently that caused the forest and everything in it to hold its collective breath.
I had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the charred wooden door that lead into the hut having been smashed in. I reacted swiftly and rushed toward the building, extracting more details as I got closer. There were multiple scorch marks around the doorway, like someone had been assaulting the portal with fire bolts until it gave way. I stepped inside to survey the scene. Things were turned over, smashed, or in shambles like a tornado had passed through. A gnarled staff that was broken in two lay at my feet, indicating that a struggle took place. My scanning sight noted a peculiar cubbyhole in between two tribal looking masks with a shattered third mask on the floor. It was vacant of any items, so something must have been seized in whatever kerfuffle occurred here. This looked like a smash and grab if ever I saw one.
Before my mind could formulate any questions as to what happened here, I heard a strained groan coming from beneath a large pile of potion bottles next to an overturned cast iron cauldron. I began pulling away at the debris until I found the dark skinned woman languishing underneath. Aside from a serious looking second degree burn on her cheek and a few fresh bruises, she was mostly unharmed. I resisted the urge to look away, since she only had a skimpy leather bra and loincloth to cover her modesty, which meant that the rest of her shapely body was on display. Her black and white striped hair was down too, so there was no Mohawk like I had been secretly hoping for.
“Miss Zecora, can you hear me? Are you awake? Who did this to you?” I spoke to her, trying to elicit some kind of response beside her occasional grunts of soreness.
“A thief in the night. One wielding flames most bright” She eventually replied through pained breaths. This told me that I had a pyromancer to deal with, wonderful.
I helped her back on her feet, where she stood shakily before nearly keeling back over. I caught and braced her against myself as I shepherded her to her bed. I sat her down on the spotted fur blanket and took a seat beside her. I cooed reassuringly to her that I was right there and that the one who had harmed her would meet justice for their actions. She pointed towards a bottle on a shelf that hadn’t been sorted through and urged me to bring it to her. I did as she asked and brought it back, discovering that it was some kind of salve that soothed burns and sped up the healing process.
I tried applying the salve myself but she insisted against it, “Do not fret over the marks on my face! You must track down the one who did this and give chase!” She commanded as took the bottle from my grasp, “There is little time to waste. Find the one who stole the touchstone, make haste!”
‘Touchstone?’
Much as I wanted to do just that, I’d need a lead, “How do you propose I do that? It’s not like whoever did this left a trail or anyth-” That was when I suddenly became aware of a presence permeating the air, much like the kind I intrinsically felt around the Princesses, though this one felt… contrived for some reason.
The Shamaness saw the look of realization upon my face, “I know you can sense the stone’s great power. Apprehend the man who took it, lest he disappear at this late hour!” Zecora urged me, nudging me towards the door without further ado.
I set off into the forest, following my innate sense like a Bloodhound with a scent. It didn’t take much for me to piece together that this ‘Touchstone’ was analogous to the Alicorn Amulet. Which would make it a Trifect Touchstone… I guess. I probably would have been able to track this man even without my sense. Because not five minutes in, I came across a trail of torched destruction rank with the stink of smoke. It was mildly alarming to see so many scorch marks randomly found everywhere. Including on an unfortunate Manticore, who had tangled with the wrong prey and wound up a smoking carcass for its efforts. Whoever had stolen the Touchstone was taking great pleasure in testing out their improved pyromancy. Curious to note was how nothing was still on fire, whoever did this at least had the decency to snuff out their flames.
The trail culminated in a clearing of tall grass, where a lone man of above average height and wearing blackish robes like mine (but not nearly as sexy) was pretending his thumb and index finger were a lighter, flicking them together and watching the wisp of bluish flame appear. It was difficult to tell in the low light setting, but further physical features could be made out as I cautiously drew closer. His hair was a spiky black with noticeable blue streaks running through it in long strands. His frame wasn’t packed with muscle like an Agrarian, but was lean and wiry… which would have lead me to believe that he was Valkyrian had he not been literally playing with fire.
He seemed to grow tired of his two fingered feat and began to move, prompting me to confront him, “Stop right there criminal scum!” I shouted with an authoritative voice that would have made any Cyrodiilian city guard proud.
He lazily twisted in place as he regarded me, “How did you find me?” He asked, sounding only passingly curious. I was busy contemplating how a non magi could cast fire, as he lacked a focal gem. The thing that was most interesting about him (if you can call it that) were his bluish eyes, which almost had a crackling fire like shine to them.
“Not that difficult, you kind of left a wake for me to follow” I gestured behind me with a thumb.
“Yea, that tends to happen when I get bored” He said with a noncommittal shrug, "But you must have me mistaken for somebody else, for I am no mere criminal, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t refer to me as such” He hinted with a threatening undertone of violence.
I didn’t appreciate that. Not. One. Bit.
“Oh?” I crossed my arms together, “And just how should I refer to you? You, who assailed someone in their own home and stole something entrusted to them for safekeeping?” I wanted to just kick the shit out of this guy and be done with it, but I needed to approach this situation with caution.
“I don’t rightly remember what those who spawned this body named it, but I am called Azure Phoenix. Also known as the Everlasting Inferno and the Vengeful Flame. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” He stated with a wide grin, “As for assailing dark chocolate back there? She gave just as good as she got with that nasty cane of hers, I think I still have a few splinters stuck in my neck from when she struck me” He rubbed at the area and winced as he felt a tender spot. He’d get no pity from me, especially not with that annoying voice that was positively dripping with self certainty.
"Nice ass on that one though” He chuckled lecherously, completely impenitent of his actions.
I snorted in disgust, “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of you, and for that I’m glad. You’re kind of a huge dick” Freakin’ antagonists and their overinflated chutzpah.
He smirked widely at this, “I can’t disagree with you on that one, and neither can the ladies for that matter”
I rolled my eyes at his blatant warping of my words to compliment himself.
“Allow me to enlighten you. I’m something of a revenant renegade around these parts. My memories on the original event are hazy, but I conducted a ritual many centuries ago that allowed me to continue living indefinitely. Even after death… and I’ve had quite a few, some less than peaceful, I could still keep the grave at bay” The way he went on about this with that irritating expression was only exacerbating my foul mood.
‘Great, another immortal psychopath with delusions of grandeur for me to deal with' I groused to myself.
“How utterly fascinating. That doesn’t change the fact that you have something dangerous on you. Something that doesn’t belong to you” I cut straight to the point, eliciting an insulted scowl from the supposed revenant.
“Ah! Such disrespect from the youngsters these days” His comment was both condescending and odd, considering that he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than myself physically.
He held up a finger, “And did you stop to think why that might be?”
“I normally assume that anyone who would harm another to get their grubby paws on an artifact of great power only has dark intentions on their agenda” I’ve seen it for myself, and it didn’t end too well for the opposing party involved.
“And normally I would agree with you, but I am not in that category” He insisted, idly examining his nails as if this were just another day in the office.
“By all means, tell me which category you belong in” I indulged him, ready to brandish my arsenal at a moments notice.
He obliged me, “The Heroic kind. I’ve dedicated my existence to scourging the Earth of evil, be that in spirits of hatred like the Windigos; who are now all but extinct thanks to me, or common bandit scum who prowl the roadways and rob unsuspecting caravans blind. Sometimes doing even worse than that. Although their professions become a lot more difficult to profit from once I find them and teach them the error of their ways. The Diamond Dog convict gang that used to hide out in the old mines near the town found that out for themselves” He explained with a grin, painting himself as this watchful vigilante. Though I got the impression that his method of ‘teaching' was usually of a permanently lethal persuasion.
If what this guy is saying was true, then why have I never heard of him? Or any of his supposedly noble deeds? I wanted to call bullshit, but I couldn’t discount anything yet.
He kept up his exposition, “Used to be small time if I recall correctly, only protecting a tiny village out there in the relentless snowstorm, where I found refuge after that bitch Platinum tossed my disciples and I out of her court like so much used rubbish. I swore to myself after Stellaria that I’d never again serve under the whims of another. It was there in that frosted village that I devised a new kind of magic that could burn away the harsh and constant winter that the Windigoes thrust upon us. By turning to the righteous anger within, I could manifest it in the real world to burn my enemies with until they were naught but ash” He snapped his fingers and I saw a spark of flame appear before it quickly grew into a stalagmite of flame.
I was still dubious to most of his claims, but was already thinking up countermeasures to be on the safe side. I could not imagine what this ancient Skyborn was doing in Platinum’s court to begin with; Platinum absolutely abhorred the Skyborn before the unification of the three clans (key word being before. It was rumored that she had an alleged affair with Commander Hurricane whom she both loved and hated).
This guy must have loved to hear himself talk, because he just kept blabbering on, “Time flew by, and before I knew it, my aging body was failing me. But I refused to go out peacefully, delving deep into forbidden texts that I appropriated from Platinum’s personal study, and discovering a ritual that allowed for one's rebirth to occur. The catch was that I would need a fresh body to be reborn in. So the villagers, who were immensely grateful to me for keeping them safe all of those years, agreed to take part in my ritual with as few questions as possible. They mingled their donated blood together and guaranteed an anchor for the magical signature of my spirit to latch onto after expiration, allowing me to inhabit the bodies of their offspring for use as my vessel”
My teeth grit together, ‘What?’
This revelation appalled me to my core. Such acts of magic are expressly forbidden for a reason. What about the spirit of the child who was to originally inhabit that body!? The irritation in my gut began to boil into anger as I looked at this perversion of nature speak with that unfaltering ‘I can do no wrong’ expression.
“This would normally be the part where I’d reduce you to a smoldering heap of cinders to keep myself anonymous, but it would seem like such a waste of talent. There must be some skill hidden behind that emotionless mask of yours if you managed to track me down in a forest this dangerous. Granted, I cleared out a good deal of those dangers on the way here” He laughed uproariously. Proud of the mindless path of destruction he blazed into the woods.
The enamel of my teeth was grinding together without my awareness.
“Why not join me?” He held out his arms in a welcoming gesture, “Together we can make the world into our perfect playground, burning it clean of scum and making it pure!” His eyes were manic, that gleam doubling in magnitude. This was not a choice the wise would ever accept, regardless of the good will behind it.
“You claim to have pure intentions, yet your methods are as repugnant as the evils you profess to cleanse. I will not cast my lot in with a madman like you. Especially not with a body snatcher, at that” I rebuffed the delusional fruit loop, incensing him greatly.
His mouth twisted into an ugly snarl, “If you are not with me… then you are against me” He declared menacingly as his clenched fists ignited with a bluish white flame.
Other than slightly narrowing my eyes, I betrayed no surprise at the full validity of his strange pyromantic abilities, despite his incompatible clan type. He was clearly more than he appeared… but so was I.
“Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must” I countered, drawing upon my reserves of magic in anticipation for the coming fight, with Azure absently racking his mind for a reference to such a title.
“You will try” He unwittingly quoted in return, expression darkening considerably.
I analyzed my opponent as we stared each other down. His stance was that of someone who had lived adequately long to accumulate enough combative experience to be a considerable threat if left unchecked. His arrogant posturing also indicated that he thought of me as little more than an obstacle to be easily removed, something that I could use to my advantage. I had to be careful not to use my wings, I didn’t want him to realize what he was dealing with and fly the coop. My magic was also at half capacity by now, and if what my senses told me was accurate, this man could supplement his magic with a reserve that could match Cadence at her very best. I would be outclassed in this fight when it came to who could sling around the most magic, but not when it came to what types of magic.
He made the first move, casting a large fireball aimed straight at me. I assembled Dichotomy in half the time it took to reach me and cleaved the fiery sphere apart. The magic nullifying edge of the blade making it dissipate mere milliseconds after coming in contact with the fireball. Azure was smart enough not to be stunned by this display and followed up with a hail of fire bolts that I either dodged with my agility or batted away with my sword. The Valkyrian fire mage seemed to favor keeping his distance, and I was slowly but surely closing in on him.
When I was within swinging range, white ethereal wings sprouted from his back and he took to the sky.
“Congrats. You’ve actually managed to last longer than half of the opponents I’ve ever faced!” He called down from above, “Let’s make this a little more interesting. You seem to like playing with swords, of which I have none… for now” His eyes flashed red for the briefest moment before fiery constructs of a similar color appeared all around him. Scimitars, Estocs, Rapiers, and even a bastard sword materialized into the air, their business ends pointed at me.
I had to resist the urge to gulp at their numbers.
Azure rubbed at his chin, “Now what is that fancy term swordsmen use when dueling each other? Ah, yes, now I remember. En garde!” And with that he sent a hail of blades downwards onto me.
There wasn’t much of a chance for me deflect all of them at once, so I flash teleported some twenty feet away. The blades impaled the Earth where I once stood and fizzled out of existence. I broke Dichotomy apart and sent half of the shards towards the airborne Azure. He reacted appropriately and tried to blast them away with concussive waves of fire, scattering most of my pieces, which I recalled back to me. One small fragment managed to make it through and nicked him in his face, drawing blood and making my opponent hesitate for the first time in the battle.
He rubbed at his damaged features, “Damn it. That’s going to scar” I heard him murmur, still not acknowledging me as more than some pushover he could fry without a struggle.
He glared at me, “You’re starting to become a nuisance. Why not do me a favor and just die already!” He downcast a column of bluish-red fire at the ground that spread in all directions and forced me to erect a barrier spell around myself for protection.
I wasn’t expecting the fire to start eating away at my shields the way it did, breaking them apart in a few seconds and forcing me to instantly erect a triple layered one until Azure’s attack was spent. Through the translucent bubble, I could see that he was no longer afloat; his area of effect attack apparently required too much focus for him to juggle both his wings and fire magic at the same time.
By the time his attack shut down, I was down to my last layer of shielding, which promptly faded away as the remaining fire ate away at the magic powering the spell. I made a note to myself to avoid the magical debuff properties of his flames and pressed the assault. I unsheathed my Tantō and quick casted a return volley of ice bolts with the intent of turning him into a pincushion. He erected a shield of his own, only his was fire based and effectively neutralized my projectiles. This was a feint though, and I used his momentary blindness from behind his shield to make another jump right behind him.
I jammed a shard of Dichotomy into his sweltering shield and did to him what he did to me, effectively cancelling his protection and allowing me to punch the stunned Azure in the face as he rapidly twisted in place to look at me. I only managed a glancing hit, but it was enough to send the arrogant man flying with a spin into the burning undergrowth without magical assistance. I sheathed my Tantō and walked towards his direction. I wasn’t pulling any punches in this fight. It was kill or be killed, and I would be damned if I let this asshole accomplish the latter.
He probably felt the same way, because he exploded out of the burning thicket with nothing but blood rage in his eyes. He tackled me and carried me into the sky while maintaining a chokehold around my neck. His grip wasn’t terribly strong, but the fact that his hands were on fire made it rather painful. I had no idea how long we soared through the night sky as we struggled to gain the upper hand on the other. It must have been quite the distance, because instead of flames, the moon proved to be the only source of illumination as I wrestled with Azure. I pulled back and head-butted him square in his kisser, disrupting his hold over both myself and our flight trajectory. I pulled out of his grasp and tumbled to Earth, I disregarded my self induced handicap and spread my wings to right myself midair.
Fate must have a funny sense of humor, because the place where I touched down was in the decrepit ruins of the old Neverfree Castle. I must have been inside a great dining hall of some kind, as there was a long table of rotten wood lining the middle of the open roofed hall I was in. I did my best to ignore the skeletons that were slumped over its surface, still stretched out in poses that suggested that they were still in the process of eating just before they perished. I rubbed at my neck and winced at the pain, it was like the worse sunburn I had experienced ten times over and concentrated in one spot.
My reprieve from the fight was fleeting, as I was forced to roll out of the way of another huge fireball that its caster wanted nothing more than to immolate me with. It struck the ancient dining table and set it alight, reducing it to crumpled ashes in seconds. I brandished Dichotomy and wind milled it with telekinetic magic to absorb a never ending series of fire bolts that forced me back until my back was against the wall. Phoenix stood at the opposite end of the room and glared bloody murder at me, his bluish eyes flashing red with greater frequency. His flames were no longer blue, nor were they as easy to fend off now.
I noticed that there was a large pile of stone rubble hanging above his head from a platform that was only about a quarter intact. If I could destroy the column supporting it below, I could use the castle environment to crush my foe for a repeat occasion. I used my free hand to pull out the Tantō and built up a wall of concentrated force that I released towards the column. The effect was almost instantaneous, with the column giving out a mighty ‘crack!’ and splintering before bursting apart in an explosion of chunks. With nothing left to hold it up, the platform above dumped both itself and its load on the unsuspecting Azure, who raised his hands above his head before being buried beneath the bulky boulders.
I used the lull to catch my breath and alleviate some the mental exhaustion that I associated with my shrinking supply of mana. Once I felt sufficiently recovered, I approached the small mountain of rubble with the utmost caution. I could still sense the power of the Touchstone being utilized, so it was clear that Azure wasn’t defeated just yet. I felt that same power build up before it went off with the force of a bomb, scattering debris everywhere and completely decimating what was left of the destroyed dining hall. The wreckage of the ruins bounced harmlessly off of my barrier spell that I had reinforced only moment’s prior.
I saw the man, in much worse condition than I was, come forth from the leftover dust cloud.
“I am fire. I am… death” He vented as he trudged towards me, his tone devoid of all previous blitheness. His eyes were completely red, the Touchstone now exerting complete control over his actions.
Still not as sexy as mine though.
“Silly Phoenix, that’s not how you pronounce egotistical” I goaded him, making him roar in fury and charge me. Twin blades of blood red fire manifested in his hands and lashed out at my neck.
I parried with Dichotomy and damaged one of the conjured weapons by blocking it. I noted how solid the magic made weapon was as it chipped from the force of the deflection. Azure merely repaired it with his wellspring of magic and ferociously assaulted me with speed befitting a Valkyrian. I surrendered myself to the flow of battle and dual wielded my blade, seamlessly countering all of Azure’s attacks and progressively landing some of my own in small cuts. When I got like this, it was hard to think of anything else besides how I would dismantle my opponent with my aggressive wit and the frighteningly swift strikes of my weapons. He proved to be a worthy opponent indeed, nearly lopping my head off in more than one flurry of slashes. Azure didn’t even seem to care (or feel) the large gash that I traced along his left thigh in retaliation.
Our fast paced duel took us through a corridor and into one of the castle courtyards, which was overgrown with foreign growths and of the towering plants that were originally sowed there. Every time I dodged a lunge or a swipe from the mad Phoenix, it would catch something on fire spectacularly. I could tell that his impatience with me was through the roof as he unleashed every trick in his arsenal, from his usual fire projectile, to solid projections of weapons (I plucked a thrown fire spear out of the air and tossed it right back at him), to ones that I hadn’t seen before like minions of flame that mirrored my shadow opponents.
I was able to use handy dandy illusion for the umpteenth time to keep Azure guessing, at least up to the point that I opened a gaping wound in his back with the black blade.
“ENOUGH!” He screamed as he unleashed a concussive wave of fire in all directions, knocking me off my feet and setting a portion of Rarity’s robes that I was unable to shield on fire. Azure’s stentorian voice was overlaid with something else. Whatever it was, it sounded unholy as all hell.
I rolled to a stop as I lost my grip on my weapons, which clattered uselessly out of arm’s reach. I had to sacrifice an unhealthy amount of magic to snuff the growing flame that was eating away at my robe’s fringes. I glanced up at my aggressor to see him preparing to cast a Über-charged spell to finish me once and for all. A bleeding Azure focused all of his magical might into a conflagration that barreled my way with the intensity of a solar flare. My body acted on instinct and I put up a multi layered barrier spell that contained what remained of my magic, down to the last drop. I angled it until it resembled a cone, funneling most of the conflagration’s force away from one point and easing the burden of holding it up.
Even still, I was sweating like a pig as I fought to uphold the only thing keeping me alive at this point. One of my knees kissed the dirt as the effort of staving off my doom began to take its toll. To put it into perspective, it felt like trying to keep a blue whale from crushing me with its blubber. Even then, I felt the skin on my face begin to crack and peel as the heat burned away the entirety of the moisture in the air. It goes without saying that I was having a very bad time of it.
My magic cut out just scant seconds after Phoenix ceased his onslaught and I all but collapsed, panting from the tremendous travail. Azure however, was equally exhausted from throwing around that much mana in a single spell, Touchstone or not, and was huffing as he tried to catch his own breath. He wasted no time and drew closer, intent on ending our little scuffle.
A huge sword appeared in his hands and he limped closer, “H-ha! A-another pathetic c-challenger f-falls to his knees b-before my might!” He breathlessly boasted, raising his conjured weapon to deal the final blow. He was mistaken if he thought I was going to go down so indisputably.
My eyes coruscated as an influx of sudden strength surged through me. Faster than he could blink, I rose to my feet and deflected the downswing of his weapon to the side using the armored portion of my left vambrace, while flicking out my hidden blade with my right arm and ramming it through the stupefied man’s chest in the same motion. Plain Sight’s favored weapons effortlessly did their job as they tasted blood for the first time in over a millennium. It wasn’t an instantly fatal wound, probably just severing some pulmonary arteries above his heart. But needless to say, he wouldn’t live to see the end of this day.
I leaned closer to his ear as we ‘embraced' and spoke, “Every man will be humbled and every knee shall bow. I am no exception, and neither are you” I yanked out my blade and the man began clutching at his chest, trying to cauterize the wound shut in a vain attempt to persevere, but finding it difficult to summon the power necessary as his eyes lost their red sheen.
The Touchstone was abandoning him to his fate.
He fell to his knees and looked up at me in a mixture of shock and disbelief, before doubling over upon a burnt patch of Earth that our clash affected.
“Your hollow victory over me means nothing” He contemptuously spat as blood dribbled from the corners of his mouth, “I will simply be reborn. I will find you again, when you are old and weak from age. And I will destroy you!” He swore with his last fading breaths, glaring up at me with as much hatred as he could muster, before gingerly closing his eyes as his remaining strength left him. All of the flames that he had cast died out shortly thereafter.
I calmly reached down into his robe and tore the torc like necklace off of his person, gazing at the smooth touchstone inlaid into the jewelry that I now held in the palm of my hand. I ran my fingers along the surface of the stone, feeling each individual trough and indention in its composition. I pointedly ignored the whispers of unlimited power and the means to get back home, knowing them to be empty promises from a glorified rock. I scanned it with what trickles of magic were given to me from just holding the damned thing and discovered that it actively stimulated the endocrine system of the brain. I hummed in thought as I digested this tidbit of information, that would definitely explain why it made its users hyper aggressive and domineering, able to shrug off pain and not tire as quickly (in a similar vein, it would make them extremely horny as well).
The lattice of the magic infused in this thing was mutable. It had to be if it wanted to accommodate the wishes and desires of its users beyond raw power. An idea began forming in my mind as the life force tied to Phoenix’s spirit began to visibly leak from his body in bluish wisps.
“No… you won’t” I solemnly declared.
With the stone in hand, I punched it through the man’s chest cavity and used my understanding of its inherent nature to modify the stone’s magical properties, channeling the flow of its immense power inward until it resembled a power vacuum, sucking in anything remotely magical in direct contact with it. I excluded myself from this rule with a few modifications to the material that it could siphon energy from. Thus it was altered from a power granting necklace, to something similar to a Soulstone.
There was no sound in the silent forest as the renegade who had rampaged through it was currently in the process of his imprisonment, his life force slowly being absorbed into the rock like water to a sponge. The stone pulsed for a second or two as the once noble (literal definition, not personality wise) man known as Azure Phoenix was forever sealed inside. The blue glow gradually going out like that of a dying ember.
I got to my feet and examined the newly modified touchstone after cleaning some of the gore off my hand with a brisk application of dirtied water from a nearly demolished courtyard fountain. The streaks on it had changed color, as if to reflect that it was ‘full’. I looked down at the man’s broken body before deciding to do him an honor that he probably wouldn’t have afforded me. Gathering up miscellaneous planks of wood from the outside forest, I stacked them together before laying his body upon it. There was no eulogy as I set it alight with the remnants of my magic.
I stood there in absolute stillness. I was triumphant over my enemy, watching his remains burn with no trace of any one particular emotion in my eyes.
‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ I mentally recited, only this time no Phoenix would be reborn from the ashes. I’m not sure why, but an old folk song sung by Johnny Cash was playing in my mind as I watched the orange-red flames flicker and burn, consuming the corpse of my adversary piecemeal.
I wordlessly stowed the Soulstone away in an inner chest pocket before collecting my swords, joining them back together, and sheathing Dichotomy’s shards. I gave my surroundings one last look, committing them to memory. With the impromptu funeral pyre having carried out its task, I made my way back to Zecora’s hut, internally debating what I should do with my captive, now that I had him in tow. It was very clear that Zecora might not have been the best bet for keeping artifacts of dangerous power out of the wrong hands. Heck, Celestia had an institute dedicated to retrieving stuff like that and neutralizing it!
That settles it; I’m giving this to Cel the moment I see her… right after she slurps down her obligatory tea.
The whole walk back I did nothing but brood, ‘Man, are these the kind of decisions that the Princesses have to make? Because playing the role of judge, jury, and… execut-… jailer blows big time’ I wouldn’t stoop to calling myself an executioner, I swore that I wouldn’t become anything like Azure did. I would never kill indiscriminately the way he did. I would only ever slay in self defense, or in the defense of others.
I was dragging my feet when I stumbled back into Zecora’s home after an hour of wandering the Neverfree in search of her place. My entrance startled the woman, who shouted something in her native language before relaxing at the sight of me. She came to my side and in an ironic mirroring of earlier events, escorted me to her bed where we could both sit. I tried to say something, but she shushed me and began applying that salve to my neck and anywhere else that was afflicted by Azure’s blistering magic.
To my disappointment, I had received a lot more burn damage in our duel than I had accredited to that pyromaniac. Zecora motioned for me to discard the torso portion of my robes and I hesitated briefly, until I remembered that she was a good deal more exposed than I was and deferred to her judgment. Surprise, surprise! My chest was riddled with blisters and other forms of first to second degree burn damage. Zecora worked her herbalist magic and my chest was numbed before it began to feel cool again, just like if she had applied aloe vera to the spot, only more foul smelling and pasty. Still, it did its job, and I was no longer hunched over and biting down curses now that the adrenaline wore off.
I put on my robes again after Zecora wrapped my body with some kind of fronds that were supposed to expedite the healing process and prevent scarring. I know that chicks are rumored to dig scars, but burn marks are ugly as sin. Trust me, I’ve seen burn victims up close at the plastic surgery clinic. It’s not a pretty picture.
I examined my outfit and found it to be relatively undamaged when compared to myself. Rarity definitely designed these robes to go that extra mile. I’d say they withstood their trial by fire with flying colors. I’d still need to pay her a visit to patch up some tears and wash out some singed parts, but that was a minor concern at best.
Once she was finished acting the role of healer, she sat down next to me with a sigh, “Mine is not a debt that is so deftly repaid. Tell me, why was it that you were so swift in coming to my aid?” She asked me, likely referring to why I was so quick in making sure that she was all right.
“What? You mean, why did I check to see if you were alive? Well, because you were injured! It’s in my interest to make sure my fellow being is still kicking” I naturally responded.
“You would treat me like kin? Ignoring the disparity of our skin?” She opined with genuine confusion. Was she really so unused to Arcanians seeing her as an equal?
I smiled wryly, “I judge people based not on the color of their skin, but on the color of their character. And from what I hear, Twilight thinks most highly of yours, Miss Zecora”
She laughed warmly and said something in her native tongue, shaking her head, “Of this, I should have suspected. Twilight’s entrusting of the stone to myself and your arrival are interconnected” She stated.
I gave her a funny look, “You make it seem like all this has the stench of destiny attached to it. I really only came here to obtain the ingredients for Elysian tea and some reagents that Twilight wrote down on this… list” I lamely finished as I pulled out a half burned piece of paper, “Damn… guess I’ll have to make a return trip” I groused (although I was actually looking forward to spending more time with Zecora under less stressful circumstances). I also took out the Touchstone and showed it to her.
“I am gladdened to see that you prevailed against that monstrous man. Will you be returning the stone to my care, back where this began?” Her palms were open for me.
I shook my head this time, “I’m afraid not. This ‘Trifect Touchstone’ is going straight to the Princess. She’ll know what to do with it” I said as I stood up.
She nodded and folded her hands back into her lap, “That course of action seems most wise. Hiding that stone here almost ensured my demise” She tentatively replied as she also got up and fished around in one of jars beneath her bed. After finding what she was scrounging for, she handed me a tiny wooden case that was filled with tealeaves of varying hues.
She presented it to me with a friendly smile, “Here are the materials you requested. May your journey home be safe and unmolested”
“You’re right. I’m not out of the woods yet, am I?” I jested as I held the package securely in my arms.
As she showed me out, I couldn’t help but make one last passing comment, “It’s a real shame though, as I’ve been meaning to ask you what you think about the color Orange” I grinned unashamedly at her.
She grinned back at me and answered without skipping a beat, “Your point is moot. As I see no reason to speak about that accursed fruit” She chuckled heartily, before wincing at the motion upsetting the burn mark on her cheek and turned back inside to apply more salve to the wound. The newly replaced door shut with a resounding click as she closed it behind her.
I made my way back to town and reflected on the day’s events before coming to a solid conclusion.
‘Why is it that shit like this only happens on a Sunday?’
The pale light of Luna’s moon provided silvery beams of illumination via slits in the thick canopy as I silently walked the shoddy road from Zecora’s home in the Neverfree to the markedly less lush graveled pathways leading into Magiville. I grunted wordlessly to myself as some of my burn injuries acted up with a sharp flare of pain, which mercifully receded as the natural analgesics in the shamaness’s wrappings covering them reasserted its hold. I was very deep in contemplative thought as my fingers idly drummed at the coarse wooden casing of the box containing the tealeaves that were so critical to Celestia’s all important tea. Namely I was reviewing the tumultuous events that only latterly took place nearby on the old castle grounds of the Royal Sisters.
I had ended yet another life, and while I had retained the same level of indifference about my actions as the last time, I needed to be sure I wasn’t becoming a cold blooded killer. Convincing myself of this wasn’t exceedingly difficult, seeing as I could also pass this one off as self defense in a loose sense. The revenant pyromancer tried to kill me and we fought to the death, both at range and up close. I doubted that I could talk him down even if I was endowed with Celestia’s impressive repertoire of words for disarming diplomacy. He came off as the kind that did as he pleased as though nobody could stop him, at least until I did anyway. I won that fight by the skin of my teeth and equally exhausted magic reserves, end of story right?
Though what about the man’s magically bound soul? Did I really have the right to use the instrument that empowered him to such a sizable degree against him, and imprison him so? Perhaps not… but it was either that or allow him to become a problem somewhere down the line, and this time he would have a plan that took what I was capable of into account and devise countermeasures that would ensure that the next fight had a very different outcome. To say nothing of the disturbing concept that this man was short circuiting the lives of the people whose bodies he inhabited for his own usage. To me, the soul was an unquestionably sacred essence (A belief that was only reinforced by the immense beauty that I saw in Lyra’s own soul after I undermined the Night Terror’s curse on her), and to find out that there was magic in this land that enabled someone to usurp another being’s body using their own spirit sickened me beyond words.
I resolved to do some serious research on the character of ‘Azure Phoenix’ and discover just how much of what he told me was truth, and how much he withheld in order to paint himself as this well intentioned vigilante who took matters into his own hands. It was propitious for me that the Sun Princess was in town while this happened. If the treebrary’s collection of history books proved to be inadequate (supposing that their written works were as suppressed as I was inclined to think), I could simply ask her for the most relevant material that she had in her palace’s archives. If Celestia was as long lived as many saw her to be, then I might even be able to inquire into her own knowledge relating to the elder days before the founding of Arcania.
I supposed that I should be thankful that I wasn’t set upon by any of the numerous predators that lurked in the darkness of the woods. With my magic as drained as it was, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself from afar before having to tussle with some big and nasty critter that would be armed with teeth, claws, stingers, or other lethal weapons. I brushed a free hand against the damaged, flaking skin of my face, feeling the dried residue of the herbalist’s salve that coated it and expedited the healing process. I was already slightly crispy from the many close calls I had with the pyromancer’s fire spells, I didn’t need to add claw marks to that list.
The ever present aura of the dangerous forest felt abnormally subdued to my higher senses, almost serene. It was hard to truly describe, but I felt as if the forest itself had recognized that I underwent a great trial in its domain and would guarantee a right to safe passage for the duration of my visit (though the assurance of protection would wear off for future ventures). This inexplicable presentiment made me suspect that the Neverfree possessed some kind of semi sentience or linked collective conscious that governed it and subtly influenced all that lived within its confines. Given everything I’ve witnessed up to this point, it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch for me to believe that the Neverfree was an entity in and of itself.
The sensation of ‘eyes’ on me from the Neverfree gradually subsided as I made it to the tree line that marked off the boundaries of the wilderness. I stood on the metaphorical edge of the forest before closing my eyes and breathing, deep in rumination. My thoughts cycled towards the dreams that I had that morning, and how they were charged with violent images of crimson flames that lay waste to everything and choked the atmosphere with ash and smoke, much like what I had seen in the previous hours. The hopeful part of me wanted to declare that my ‘vision’ had come to pass and that the peril I beheld in my sleep had been overcome.
But my realistic side knew better than to fully place my trust in wishful fancy. Tonight was only a bitter taste of the tribulations that were to come. Only a fool would presume that this looming threat on the horizon was a problem that could be solved within the course of a single evening, no matter how very nearly it came to reducing me to a charred cadaver. The only question that was left to me was how adjacent to reality those dreams were. Were they a run of the mill premonition? Or were they symbolic of things eluding my comprehension? Fortunately I cannot recall seeing any type of death that claimed the lives of innocent people, but everything they cherished was consumed by a great conflagration. I would have to speak to the Princess of the Night. With her extensive experience in the no doubt fascinating field of oneiromancy, she could council me on the prophetic properties of dreams.
The solid weight in my chest pocket pulled me out of my musings and reminded me that I was technically escorting an important prisoner to the highest authority in the land. Celestia would conceivably do one of two things: she would either destroy it outright (unlikely, as that would risk freeing the pyromancer’s soul to plague the world once more and hijack bodies again), or she would seal it away somewhere secure where the chances of it being used for malevolent purposes would be drastically reduced. I think it was safe to assume that the habitually benevolent Princess would only turn to destructive measures as a means of last resort only (and even then, regretfully so). I patted the bulge with a subconscious movement to make sure that it was still where I had stowed it before resuming my travel into the sleepy town, the sound of my boots infrequently grinding against the cobbled stonework being the only noise that accompanied my passing.
‘I hope Celestia and Twilight aren’t too worried about my prolonged errand. Of course, the marks on my face will be a dead giveaway that I ran into some trouble anyway. I’d better not receive any seared scars from this misadventure, otherwise I’ll be most displeased’ I fumed to myself as the familiar silhouette of the Golden Oak library came in reach of viewing distance.
The lights were still on (not that I expected Twilight to call it a night and turn in before I returned with her precious mentor’s tea ingredients) and my superlative sense of hearing was able to pick up on hushed conversation coming from inside as I brushed the soiled soles of my feet on the rigid bristles of the welcome mat. Heaven forbid that I track any dirt on the natural wooden carpentry of the living library. I didn’t knock as I entered this time, wanting to get straight to the gist of the ongoing dialogue between the Sun raiser and her magical prodigy.
With no solid obstructions in the way, I was able to tune in on their dialogue with crystal clarity, “I realize this my student, and I cannot begrudge you for wanting a clearer picture of his inner character… even if you may have taken it a few steps too far in achieving that goal” The admonition in the Princess’ voice was light, but I could all but feel Twilight wincing from the cushioned rebuke none the less.
I rounded the corner and saw the two women seated in humble wooden chairs inside the kitchen room. The angle was such that I would only appear on the very outskirts of their peripheral vision, and only if they weren’t occupied with speaking their minds could they realistically notice my presence (although Celestia’s equally keen hearing could probably still detect my soft footfalls, since I had no mana to cast a spell to mask them with). It seemed that my fears were unfounded, as neither of them made any remarks about my lateness. They must have talked about quite a bit in my absence. Either that, or Twilight was stalling for time in the event that I was delayed. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“I know I made a grave mistake! I’m so sorry Prin-” Celestia gestured for Twilight to stay silent with an upward extension of her index finger. The student’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click of her teeth.
I was almost impressed with how automatic the bookworm’s response was. Her readiness to obey the Princess was an admirable quality, if not painting her as being totally submissive. Not that such a quality was necessarily a bad thing; I just hoped that it didn’t blindly apply to every other person of authority as well. Twilight may be a smart girl, but how adept she was at employing wisdom, remained to be seen.
Celestia continued her speech, “Zenith’s… unique social disposition makes him more challenging than most everyone else you’ve encountered so far in your education on what makes Friendship itself Magical. But regardless of this withdrawn attitude of his, he needs dependable friends in his life just like you do. Perhaps even more so” She said with sincerity, clasping her students hands in hers and giving them a firm shake.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Zenith?” Celestia asked aloud, an indiscernible hint of smugness in her tone. I wasn’t surprised that she did indeed hear my approach. My unadulterated sneaking skill was in dire need of some polishing work.
I guess I was through with eavesdropping for the day. I made my way further into the interior of the kitchen to formally make my presence known, “Not really, though I have returned triumphant from my quest!” I announced with a little dramatic flair in my voice that Rarity would approve of.
I set the simplistic tea box down on the table for Twilight to unlatch and inspect the contents of. The table was already set up with three dainty teacups that would never satisfy my intense thirst after all of the fluid I had sweat out in my heated duel against ‘death’ itself. It was somewhat odd to me that neither of them bothered to look up at my chapped face when I initially came in, but I ultimately dismissed it. In fact, I’d even make a meager game out of it, whoever was the first to realize that I went through a great ordeal so they could sit here and drink tea would win a boatload of brownie points (to be redeemed at any time). I was currently banking on the high-strung librarian. She could really use them.
“Excellent!” Twilight chirped with a satisfied nod, getting up and manually retrieving a kettle of hot water that was left simmering on the stove.
I briefly wondered why she wouldn’t just use her magic to save herself the effort, but classified it as a way of keeping herself modest despite how easily she could do it. I personally would utilize magic every time, but that’s just because I was almost as prone as Dash to my more lazy vices.
The bookish woman came back to the table with the kettle in hand and finally enveloped the tea box in the purple aura of her magical field before taking out six of the distinctively iridescent leaves and putting two of each into the teacups. She followed up this pseudo mundane action by unleashing a steady stream of warm liquid into the puny porcelain containers. I watched with barely concealed intrigue as the lustrous leaves began immediately imbuing their unique coloration into the water. It wasn’t quite to the level where it would resemble something tainted with the obscenely polychromatic Zapple juice, but it was close. Whatever was in these leaves that made them special worked their magic quickly. Of course, it probably was magic that was responsible for the rapid reaction.
“Tea is served! I hope I prepared it just as you like, Princess. Just below boiling point and without additional sweeteners!” She exclaimed, a faintly nervous tremor in her voice as she placed the kettle back on the stove and reclaimed her seat.
“I assure you that it would be quite challenging to prepare it any other way that I wouldn’t enjoy all the same, my dear Twilight” Celestia responded in good grace, a smile adorning her features as she took lady like sips of her refreshment of choice.
I meanwhile had downed my serving in one brisk draft like an uncivilized man who languished too long wandering the Mojave without a canteen. Necessity took precedence over propriety any day of the week in my book, luckily neither woman created a big fuss over it (or observed the damage that I had endured so we could even drink the damn tea in the first place). I made smacking sounds with my tongue as I tried to process the flavor, only to find that I couldn’t.
I dare say it was even more confounding than trying to describe the flavor of pure water. Though the more I thought about it, the more I felt as if it copied the myriad flavors of all my favorite drinks in one. It didn’t overlap either. Each assorted flavor somehow remained separate from the other and yet singular all at once. The most shocking aspect of this drink however, was that I could sense a small volume of mana return to me in a moderate trickle. This Elysian blend of tea somehow revitalized the drinker’s magic reserves. It wasn’t that much to make it equivalent to something like a mana potion, but it was there.
I had to hand it to her. Celestia had superb taste in tea.
“Drat, and here I thought my special-tea would only ever exist in the realm of dreamlike fantasy” I absently commented, drawing the visual scrutiny of my company.
“What do yo-” Twilight paused with a short gasp, “Zenith! What in the world happened to your face?” She pointed to me, along with the inflammation marking my countenance. On the plus side, she finally won some desperately needed brownie points with me.
Alas, it’s a real shame that my tendency to turn as red as a lobster rather than develop a nice tan had followed me into this strange, new world.
I wanted to roll my eyes. How kind of her to take that into account just now, “Ran afoul of some trouble in the Neverfree. And if you think I look bad, you should see what happened to the other person” I chuckled callously as I poured myself another serving after using a negligible amount of mana that the magical tea had replenished to float the kettle back over.
“Other… person?” She said, her brow knitting itself in confusion.
“A lengthy matter I’d like to discuss with her Royal Highness here” I cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth, “In private, if you don’t mind” I did mind as a matter of fact, if my formal but impatient tone was any indication.
“Oh, umm…” She looked to her mentor for instructions, who simply nodded toward the archway in response, “I’ll just… leave you two to converse in peace then”
Celestia waited until Twilight had relocated herself to a contrasting part of the library (probably to reorganize and dust her shelves for the umpteenth time) before taking an additional drink of her tea, “You know, I often wonder if you refer to me formally in an attempt to get under my skin or if you actually defer to protocol periodically. Your cryptic style of sarcasm is… difficult to reliably decipher” She confessed to me as she set the cup down on the table with a ‘clink!’.
I drummed my fingers against the table in sequence, “I’ll take that as a compliment. And the answer to that is none of them. Twilight just gives me the evil eye every time I speak of you as if we were on a first name basis, like two people who can confide in each other do” I sarcastically droned. I motioned with the kettle if she wanted a refill, to which she graciously accepted.
“Yes, Twilight is partial to ‘going by the book’, as it were. Especially when it comes to interacting with members of the royal family” She said as she took another sip and swirled the liquid inside with a circulating movement of her hand, “Although… I did notice that she makes an exception for you” She observed, her bright, beautiful eyes searching for an explanation for this in my dispassionate own.
I casually shrugged, “I had to correct her for the first few instances and remind her that I wasn’t officially recognized as royalty by any means, but operant conditioning eventually kicked in”
She stared at me for a few seconds, “And did you have to take out a rolled up newspaper and swat her with it a few times before this unprecedented exclusion occurred?” She deadpanned with a straight face, but there was a glint in her eyes that gave away her amusement.
‘Silly Celestia, knowingly making a reference to the training of a pooch is more along the lines of Pavlov’s work’
I smirked, “Not even once. Though I admit to being tempted to grasp for the spray bottle on more than one occasion” I jested in return. We spared a moment to appreciate our mutual linguistic touché before getting down to business.
“In all seriousness though, I encountered someone in the Neverfree that deserves our full attention. Somebody who was quite dangerous, but also quite neutralized by yours truly”
“And just who was this mystery character? Where are they being held now?” She asked in unhurried succession.
I tapped at my breast pocket, “They’re being kept right here”
She didn’t register what I meant at first until I reached inside and pulled out the torc like jewelry with the touchstone attached to one of the metal studs on the end. When her eyes caught sight of it, they widened by a degree that I very rarely witnessed for myself. I gingerly set it down of the table surface where it failed to make an ominous, all encompassing drumbeat like one would expect in the movies.
Rather anticlimactic if you ask me.
‘Perhaps that is a property that only objects of unspeakable evil like the One Ring possess’ I drolly thought as Celestia all but gawked at the presently harmless touchstone blending in with the darkened table like any other common household article.
After a little while spent gazing at the faintly pulsating rock, she spoke, “I thought the Trifect’s Touchstone to have been lost, or ultimately destroyed. How did you come by this?”
‘Looks like I wasn’t wrong about its designation’ I noted with no sense of deductive achievement.
“I removed it from the neck of the man who tried to kill me” This time there was an utter lack of flippancy in my tone.
“And you encountered this man in the Neverfree? Wearing the touchstone? What did he look like!?” She said with an urgency that betrayed her normally calm composure.
I remained placid. Perhaps she would indeed know just who it was, “Tallish, spiked hair, made arrogance seem like an art form, and really liked to toss fireballs around like it was going out of style”
There was nothing in her expression that divulged to me if she recognized anyone with that profile. Her reaction to this news piqued my own curiosity. Just what was her connection to this touchstone?
“And did he commit any crimes?” She asked after a transient lull passed. Her voice was laced with muted disappointment.
“Yes… right after he barged into Miss Zecora’s home and nearly killed her in his mad search for the touchstone. He also attempted to deep six me after I gave chase and refused to be a part of his loose cannon madness when I confronted him” I absently rubbed at my midsection where he had scored more than a couple glancing hits, feeling gladdened that the spot was still numbed by Zecora’s frond like bandages.
“This Zecora had the touchstone then? How?” She asked, placing a lower priority on everything else.
“That is something you should ask your student. I’m frankly shocked that she neglected to mention a vital matter like this to you in her reports. She does know Zecora better than most… you’d think she’d register that she made a bit of a slip up entrusting a solitary medicine woman with its safekeeping” I said as I finished off a draft of tasty tea. Don’t get me wrong, I admired the foreign born shamaness, but she was ill suited for fending off attacks by renegade fire mages by herself.
Celestia’s eyes narrowed, much like they did when I revealed that I knew about Spike’s unique mail oriented talent, “And just how do you know this?”
“Zecora herself told me as much. A charming woman, she is. Likes to speak to people with the most endearing couplets” Even in a world filled with all kinds of magical things and bizarre happenstance, there’s still some things that manage to set people apart from the norm.
Even more impressive was that Zecora doesn’t let her peculiarity limit her topics of conversation either. What a lexicon she must have in her mind! I suspect that she doesn’t do many things with a primarily prosaic motive. I hid a grin by taking a nice, long swig of tea. I couldn’t wait to acquaint myself more with the enigmatic herbalist in the future.
Celestia hummed thoughtfully, “Twilight has informed me of that atypical characteristic. Though I’ve yet to receive a report detailing how she reacts when subjected to themes relating to the citrus family of fruits” She expressed as she made light of the situation. The non sequitur threw me off a bit, but I realized that Celestia wanted to preserve a modicum of the good mood that permeated the air of the library.
I vocalized an ‘ah’, playing along, “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I found that out personally. Zecora merely dismisses the attempt to subvert her verbal habits, all in superlative rhyme” She likely had a whole list of responses prepared beforehand in case of that scenario.
“I see…” She began, “It was worth a try then. How did you subdue this man?” The oddly detached way the Princess asked her questions made me feel as if this was more of an investigation than our usual tête-à-tête.
I curled my lips back and exposed my canines, “By slaying him and stuffing his magically bound soul into that glorified rock, otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed dead” I lifted a finger to point at said means for terminating the rogue pyromancer’s cycle of unnatural rebirth.
Celestia took my nonchalance in stride, save for a lifted eyebrow, “And how did you accomplish that?”
“I essentially reversed the intrinsic ‘polarity’ of the touchstone and turned it into a selectively magical vacuum. I introduced the newly modified touchstone into the man’s chest and let the stone do the rest. I built a funeral pyre for his body (‘One of them anyway’) afterwards. It seemed… fitting, I guess” I concluded with a half shrug.
“I see. Then may…” She purposely trailed off.
“Azure Phoenix” I filled in for her.
She crooked her head in respect for the recently deceased, “Then may Azure Phoenix find peace”
“The name doesn’t ring any bells?” I asked without joining in, having already carried out his funeral arrangements myself.
She slowly shook her royal noggin, “I may have heard a name like that in passing long ago, but he and I have never met before. Nor do I think that I will get the chance, now that he has been sealed away” She didn’t appear to regret this in the slightest.
“You are going to ensure that he stays sealed away right? Not that I’m afraid, but the last thing he did before expiring was vow revenge against myself” He had no right to be so angry about his defeat if you ask me. Nobody who instigates conflict without knowing what they’re getting into should be that surprised when the tide turns in opposition to them.
“I have a few vaults warded and guarded against unauthorized intrusions safely tucked away beneath the capital city. The power of the Trifect’s Touchstone shall never again be misused” She asserted, sweeping the object in question up and wrapping it in several layers of cloth that she tore from the folds of her regal dress before putting it away. I blinked away my bemusement. She probably had dozens of that outfit anyway.
“May I request access to any official records you might have with anything referencing an Azure Phoenix from the Pre-Arcania days?”
She considered it with swiftness, “Granted. I’ll have the palace archives send copies of its original manuscripts by the midday following the next. They’ll be delivered to this library, in case Twilight would also like to peruse them. Why the sudden interest in figures from a bygone era?”
“I’d just like to know the unbiased truth behind the guy whose soul I was forced to imprison within a rock. Historical documentation is my best bet, seeing as I can’t just ‘ask’ him (‘Not that he was very keen on giving me a history lesson over frying me to a crisp’). Is that such a crime?” I shot back, somewhat defensively.
She dipped her head forward, “As you wish. Though I’m afraid we might not possess much in the way of information committed to paper from those days. Much truth pertaining to those happenings before the unification have been lost to time, and even my own memory fails me when it comes to the finer details. And while the scholar in me despises this sentiment to a large degree… I regret little of how things turned out”
So the Sovereign is higher on the totem pole of importance than the Scholar. It makes no difference to me. That’s why I was asking for the paper instead of picking her less than impartial brains.
While we were on the topic of bygone relics, “What’s the story behind the touchstone anyway? You looked at it like you’d seen a ghost”
She froze for half a second and took a deep breath that was riddled with underlying tension, “Because in some regards… I have. The touchstone was one of the last major creations of a dear friend of mine named Starswirl” A bittersweet smile graced her face, “Back before his sheer ingenuity with the magical energies that flow all around and his namesake facial hair earned a permanent place in the histories”
I was aghast at this new tidbit of info, ‘Celestia knew Starswirl the Bearded in person!?’ Wow… I’ve never directly asked how old the Solar Monarch was, but this revelation was a pretty indicative landmark.
My reluctance to respond to that cued for the Princess to continue, “I can see that this has caught you off guard. But it is the truth, in fact he was the first person to find us after Luna and I ascended as the earliest Trifects. Frankly, the texts never give him enough credit for all of his incredible achievements. That man was instrumental in both my sister’s and my own development as the new rulers of what was then a very young Arcania with an uncertain future”
She closed her eyes as she relived a portion of her past, “I’ll never forget his advice when I struggled with making hard calls as one of the Diarchs. ‘Making decisions you don't want to make is part of what being a ruler is about’ He told me, and it only began to settle in after many years of doing just that” Celestia was only half there as she gave me an account of her past. Her lowered pitch to match that of a wizened old man was impressively spot on.
She resumed her monologue after a moment of trancelike silence, “I applaud how this hesitation to do what is necessary, no matter how badly you wish for there to be a better alternative, is absent in you, Zenith. I have no doubt that you will make a sublime leader someday” Her optimistic tone was touching, even if I still wasn’t a fan of having any part in this whole ‘Princeship’ thing.
‘No, I just get all moody about it afterwards’ I mentally grumbled, unwilling to give voice to my thoughts for the time being.
“Extraordinary… and what happened to him? The books never explicitly mentioned what ultimately became of the great Starswirl” I asked, shifting the subject away from myself. What better source of answers than the woman with first hand accounts of him?
When her eyes opened again, they were murky with a number of emotions that I couldn’t make out with ease, “I do not know. One day he just… vanished. My sister and I personally led the search for him using all of the scrying magic and resources at our disposal, yet we came up with nothing. No magical trace, no paper trail, not even a letter saying where he left. It was as if he simply disappeared off the face of the Earth”
‘Perhaps he was abducted by aliens’ I wryly thought.
It actually wasn’t that farfetched of an assumption, now that I think about it. I myself was basically stolen away from my home by unknown entities of some sort, if what Discord let slip was any clue. Or maybe he (or she, if you want to get hung up on technicalities) was just trolling me. It’s difficult to tell with that irritatingly misleading bureaucratic trickster. Either way, we would be having some serious words if I ever came into contact with the beings that brought me here.
“I can’t imagine finding any kind of closure for that. Someone who was that close to you, just evaporating into thin air? That’s rough. You have my sincerest sympathies, Celestia” I offered with the utmost honesty. I don’t even want to envision how well (or more accurately, poorly) my own family has coped with my loss.
She stared down into the depths of her half drained teacup, “It’s an old wound, Zenith. And while it has never completely healed, it no longer pains me so. But I appreciate your heartfelt gesture none the less”
She tilted the cup back and finished off her second serving before speaking, “Where are my manners? I haven’t shown even the slightest bit of concern over the injuries you sustained in your incursion with this Phoenix character” She self scolded with a sour expression. I couldn’t fault her for coming off as uncaring to my wounds. Our sense of priorities can often mix themselves up, I knew that well enough.
It was my turn to imitate insensitivity to my pains, “Just a few burns here and there, nothing that Zecora hasn’t already seen to with her natural remedies. On a similar note, Rarity must have used some very durable material when she stitched these robes together, because they’re remarkably resistant to burn damage” I’d still need to see her to get some repair work done, but the damage was substantially lighter than I expected. This was even more evident to me now that they were fully exposed to the illumination of the treebrary.
“That is very good news. You’ll be relieved to know that your recuperation period should be quite brief. As Trifects, we possess a rapid healing factor that has confounded and will continue to confound most doctors far into the future. You’ll be on the mend and your burns will fade away within one astral cycle’s time. Though I must warn you that you will have hunger pangs unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, afterwards” She forewarned, undoubtedly from personal experience.
I was skeptical of that statement, “I dunno… I’ve had nearly mythical onsets of munchies in the past. And I’m a rather heavy eater to begin with, so…”
She brushed my doubts aside, “You will know hunger more intimately than ever before. I assure you of this, Zenith” Her stern tone brooked no further contradictions.
“Well then, it’s a favorable thing that my cloud home came with a fully stocked pantry” I wasn’t terribly worried, either way.
I was suddenly reminded of the cheesecake that was sitting in my fridge, waiting to be shared and eaten with Fluttershy. I was going to have to find space in my schedule for that later.
“You might have to restock, before long” Celestia half joked, “So what else was this man capable of? Besides casting fire spells?”
My forehead scrunched itself together as I scowled, “I didn’t really see much in our fight from his side that didn’t relate back to the same thing. I gleaned enough from our initial conversation that this man was clearly off of his rocker, so I wasn’t about to let someone as vile as he was escape with something that granted him even more power than he needed. His brand of magic was… different than what I’m mostly familiar with. He mentioned something about ‘turning to the righteous anger within’ to fuel his fire spells to such an intensity that they could purportedly harm even icy spirits like Windigos” Now that I think about it, his magic sounded obscurely like Soulfire, though with significant differences, such as a lack of structure and direct connection to the soul.
My face darkened, “There’s another thing else I must bring up. This Azure Phoenix had, at one point, access to magic that allowed him to persist beyond his natural lifespan by subjecting his soul to some kind of magic that would seek out the offspring of his followers to use their bodies as his vessel. I would like nothing better than to dismiss it as the bold claims of a delusional pyromaniac, but the fact that he was a Valkyrian casting fire spells and the sorcery that happened after his demise has left little room for uncertainty in my mind”
Celestia was likewise troubled by this news, “Such magic shouldn’t be possible, only by mutual consent can a person usurp another being’s body, and such agreements are rarely permanent”
That’s what was so twisted about the whole yarn, “What if someone agreed for you... beforehand? And used their own lifeblood to seal the deal?” I injected. Whoever refused to object in aiding in Phoenix’s psychosis and contributed their own offspring for it deserved the worst ancestors of the millennia award.
The Princess looked disgusted at this, “Blood magic was forbidden for a reason. Not only is it immoral, but it also has a corruptive influence that only worsens with time. All those who perform its black rituals to gain power from it gradually devolve into distorted mockeries of their former selves”
I snorted derisively, “Serves them right for committing such atrocious acts to start with. Although this Azure Phoenix still had the gall to think of himself as some heroic vigilante after all these years. He even claimed to cleanse the roadways of bandits and put down other gangs of brigands that plagued society”
“Arcania has a low enough population of outlaws that this Phoenix must have been traveling frequently to sate his yearning for ‘justice’. Yet roving gangs of bandits themselves are few and far between, only stalking the sparsely patrolled routes at the outlying edges of our borders, where guard garrisons are the weakest in concentration. Though this hasn’t stopped most mercantile companies from paying a hefty sum of coin to use the well protected toll roads that Concordia’s own Fancypants oversees and operates, as I’m sure he’s informed you himself” Celestia relayed, once again revealing to me that her eyes and ears on my activities and location were always watching and interminable. Not sure how I was supposed to feel about that.
‘If the seedier portions of the capital city are any indication, there will always be eyes and ears for belligerents looking to prey on weak merchant caravans’ I thought cynically. I’d like to take Celestia at her word when she says that crime is not some huge, glaring issue in the overall nation, but it still makes me uneasy when I think about it existing in such an idyllic country.
Another draft of the special liquid went down the chute and soothed my achy throat, “Nigel is a good, upstanding man, and I do genuinely believe that he puts society’s needs before his own. Not to mention that he is a highly competent player in the unspoken game of garnering respect from others and currying favor with the right people” I acknowledged, having enjoyed my time as his esteemed houseguest.
I may have even been one of those people whose approbation he sought. There was that slight increase in his already genial behavior towards me after he found out that I worked side by side with the Princesses. Though it’s probably just a second nature habit, much like Celestia’s tendency to think and act with long term goals in mind.
“But I’m digressing here. You told me that the Trifect’s Touchstone was a creation of Starswirl’s? How did that come about?” I could hear the sound of a book being dropped in the next room, making me suspicious of the authenticity of the bookworm’s busywork in the main chamber. Twilight had better not have been eavesdropping on things that did not concern her, although she was responsible for not ensuring that such a perilously alluring item was entrusted to someone with the know how to keep it out of the wrong hands.
“He made it as a way of measuring our power output after we ascended. No one knew exactly of what we were capable of, as we were the first of our kind among the three clans. Some even regarded us as Goddesses given flesh and wanted to worship us of all things! We were quick to discourage such practices and remind our subjects that we had more in common with them than they realized” She elucidated, her aversion to becoming idolized heightening my considerable esteem for her ever so modestly.
“What was this newly minted touchstone’s capacity for storing magic?” I asked, still digesting the idea of the common people looking upon the woman in front of me as a living deity. Revering respect for royalty was a tenable notion, but prostrating one’s self before them is positively absurd… as well as sacrilegious by my standpoint. But I’ll keep that wee opinion to myself.
“Theoretically it was crafted to have been able to contain an all but infinite amount of magic, so there was no risk of it overloading no matter how much of our sizable reservoir of mana we pumped into it. You could say that it was a means for ‘testing our mettle’” She said with a self amused grin. I had to admit that it was a decent context for a pun.
“I’m guessing that something took place that circumvented its intended purpose?” A mana battery that was charged even by a younger and less powerful Luna and Celestia would be brimming with arcane juice.
I should count myself lucky that it was only equal to Cadence’s current level of magic at that point; otherwise I might not have been here to even discuss the very object that nearly ended me. Such creations must be kept under a close and mindful eye. It made for the perfect tool to be perverted into something resembling a weapon, and so it was, thanks to that ignoble bastard Murphy.
She nodded, “That’s more or less what happened. Somehow… the touchstone acquired a corruptive influence that would ‘speak’ to a user through bodily contact, promising the fulfillment of their deepest and often darkest desires. With the massive quantity of power that was infused into it after our many experimenting sessions, it would certainly appear to the average person that it could keep that promise”
All the more reason to lock it away and toss out the key in my honest opinion. My thoughts re-winded back to the time when it ‘spoke’ to me, tempting me with assurances of a gateway home. Whatever abhorrent spirit was inside of that rock, it was dangerously percipient of my innermost wishes, but it made a dreadful miscalculation when it presumed I was as gullible as the next moron to pick it up.
Her expression hardened, “When Starswirl discerned that his invention became tainted by evil, he vowed to destroy it. But before he could commit to this, someone broke into his laboratory overnight, disarmed his numerous wards and alarm spells, and made off with the invention in question. We awoke the next morning to find the touchstone and multiple mages who assisted with his research missing. The culprits also took measures to meticulously dust their physical and magical footprints from all of the specific spells that Starswirl innovated in the field of tracking”
Celestia’s countenance contorted at something that continued to affect her even to this day, “It was one of the few times I’ve ever heard him utter curses so foul that the very atmosphere in the room blackened. Starswirl was not a man that you wanted to see angry, even if you were not on the receiving end of his wrath” She recounted in hushed tones. The reverential way she spoke of Starswirl reminded me heavily of the way Twilight doted on Celestia. The irony of this was not lost on me.
This was quite a bit to process over a spot of tea, “Huh. Well now we know its story up to this point. So how long did it take for you to reach your unsullied prime?” I asked, wanting to know just what awaited me in the progression of my powers.
She angled her head upward as she sifted through more memories, “We reached the peak of our magical might after a decade or so… albeit truly understanding our abilities took another century of learning” She giggled mellifluously, “You should have seen the time Luna first discovered that she could alter her form into a shadowy mist. It took me hours to get her to calm down enough to concentrate on transforming back. I still rib her about it every now and again”
“That’s funny, she eagerly told me about the episode where she tampered with the palace’s cake recipes so the bakers would only use a quarter of the sugar specified as retaliation for something like that” I chuckled softly as I recalled more of the amusing tale, “She wished that today’s flash photography was invented back then so she could show everyone what the look on your face was after taking the opening bite of dessert”
She emitted an exaggerated ‘gacking’ noise, “I was only able to see the humor in it after removing her bed slats and replacing the mattress with her least favorite flavor of gelatin” She smiled dryly at me, “Be glad that you no longer live at the palace, Zenith. My sister and I are infamous amongst the staff for having petty prank wars against each other at a moment’s notice. Had you remained any further… you may have found yourself swept up in our antics”
I had no idea what she was saying, since I almost was (my primary target would have been Ol’ Blue though). Living at Concordia Castle was anything but dull, if its most important occupants were anything to go by.
I grinned rakishly, “You’ll find that I’m game, Dash can attest to that” I retorted in good humor, before shaking my head, “You know… Discord didn’t believe me when I revealed to him that you weren’t as boring as he pegged you for”
She gave me a funny look, “That’s because he doesn’t care if his version of ‘fun’ typically has innocent bystanders getting caught in the crossfire and mine doesn’t. Collateral damage is something I’m painstakingly teaching him is undesirable” She sighed and placed a hand against her head, “It has been… slow going, to say the least” She admitted, bemoaning the mountainous challenge that re-acculturating Discord presented.
“Nothing worth doing has ever proved to always be easy, has it?” I recited like a dictionary full of truisms.
“No, it hasn’t” She tiredly agreed, before returning to the original subject.
“While I’d prefer that you not have to endanger yourself more than what will unfortunately be necessary. Your actions tonight have never the less prevented much potential suffering, Zenith. You really do have a mediating touch of fate about you” She remarked in subtle tones of awe.
I wasn’t having any of it, “I don’t like any implications that fate itself is guiding my every move. What happened tonight was just the product of auspicious timing, nothing more and nothing less” I said, irked that Zecora and now the Princess had made the same conclusion. Though I would concede that the chances of that encounter in the Neverfree being merely a coincidence were pretty slim.
She was undeterred by my lack of faith, “Whether you believe it or not makes little difference in the end, Zenith. You have been enabled to effect great change both directly and indirectly. I have a strong feeling that it will be unlike anything this world has ever seen before, if the knowledge you disclosed to me on that balcony was any indication”
‘Be clever and full of tricks, and your people shall never perish’ The woman in front of me probably knew this axiom all too well.
That raises another important point, “Speaking of which, have you finally heard back from the heads of manufacturing?”
“I have received formal missives from them, yes” She confirmed as she filled her teacup for a third time.
I was getting fidgety as she kept me in the dark, “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense! What did they have to say?” I eventually cried out.
She blew gently on the liquid before sipping it, casually trolling me by exploiting my impatience. She relented once I stole the kettle for refills out from under her, an action meted out as a punitive measure, “They were… intrigued by the designs I apprised them about, but were unwilling to finance the replication of them out of their own pockets until each design proves to be as miraculous as your schematics suggested. In other words, they want a hands on demonstration before giving their full support… ideally at the upcoming Iron Innovator’s Fair to be hosted in the city of Steelhatten early in the New Year”
“You didn’t send them copies of the schematics themselves?” I probed, not really surprised by this.
Celestia quickly interpreted the underlying question, “Please understand Zenith, that this is not something I want to distribute with the same haste and transparency as the self contained ink pen. There is too large a risk that unwarranted eyes may uncover it and use it against us. By playing to the manufacturers’ dubiety regarding our inventiveness, we can keep these developments in house. Once we earn their metaphorical seal of approval, we can use their lack of faith as a bargaining chip for utilization of their funding and most secure factories to promote the whole of your ideas in earnest and in secret. The only thing the manufacturers would expect in return would be the rights to the fully fledged blueprints after we’ve… ironed out the kinks, so to speak” Her knowing smile told me that she intended to hold off on such a thing for a long time to come.
This still made my shoulders sag in undisguised dismay. The kingdom needed all of those designs as soon as possible if it was to minimize the hazards of the unknown dangers that it faced. This would constitute a delay that could prove disastrous. But I could begrudgingly yield to the logic beneath the Princess’s thinking. I never expected Operation Modernize Arcania to go over unobstructed in its implementation, after all.
I bowed my head in acceptance of this, “A most wise decision, Celestia. It would certainly become most detrimental if the enemies of Harmony were to even make crude simulacrums of what I transcribed” One thing eluded me though, “Where does that leave us as far as independently assembling prototypes to showcase at this Iron Innovator’s Fair goes?”
She exhaled a tense breath, “I can only divert so many funds from the Royal Treasury before the nobility takes notice and raises a fuss, which will then lead to investigations that would render our efforts to maintain secrecy in vain. All other currency must be reserved for the unthinkable occurrence of war. Mobilization and deployment of soldiers along with their equipment is not an inexpensive venture, as you might well know” She said, unaware of my current frown.
I was unsure whether or not I should have resented that opinion, just because I knew more about the devastation of armed conflict than the overwhelming majority of her subjects didn’t make me some friendly war-lording consultant.
She continued unabated by the state of brooding she inflicted me with, “Although with Discord’s assistance we should be able to scrounge up enough coin to sponsor a minimum of three projects, give or take one or two depending on their viability, complexity, and ease of material acquisition… yes, I would surmise that we could actively pursue roughly three plans in totality”
“And what if I were to inform you that this Azure character did us the courtesy of clearing out the old mines of the Diamond Dog gang for us?” I added, hoping it would make a difference. I’d only heard about them not three hours ago, and was disturbingly indifferent to hearing of their demise, but it was unlikely that they would be sorely missed.
She considered this with identical insouciance, “H’mmm… the local mines never were completely prospected before that dangerous, ragtag group of Raven Rock escapees ousted the previous owners. If the Crown were to covertly begin adding its natural resources to its own, I’d say that we could finance a solid three projects, all difficulties therein notwithstanding” A guarantee was good. I’d have to make sure that those three choices counted then.
“Very well then, which plans sound appealing to you?” I wanted her opinion first. I did this for politeness sake, but mostly to gauge her stance on what she thought would be best suited to defend her kingdom.
“Personally? If I had my way, we wouldn’t need to reconstruct any of these horrid inventions of war. But as I’ve stated before, my subject’s safety takes priority over my own misgivings. As the introducer of these things it is your choice, Zenith” She deferred to my untested judgment, placing an exorbitant and unspoken amount of trust in me that both raised my hackles and warmed my heart.
I brainstormed for a minute, weighing the pros and cons of sundry schematics and concepts too innumerable to count. Unable to decide right way, I enunciated my uncertainty, “This is something that I’d like to sleep on before finalizing my selections. I can ask Spike to send whatever I do decide to lay the groundwork for your way” I said, putting it on the back burner. The potential fate of Arcania isn’t a topic that I’d like to determine over the course of late evening tea.
Celestia understood my hesitance, “This is fine, Zenith. I realize that this requires a certain interval of time used for careful deliberation. Some of your transcribed documents might have more of an impact on the world stage, but others may be more convenient for unveiling on the show stage in order to impress our prospective backers”
‘Who does she take me for? Steve Jobs? Showmanship isn’t a must for me’ Still… if I wanted to see this through, I’d have to play ball.
I scoffed, fed up with the whole approach we were taking before we even took it, “Phaf! If the schematics are followed faithfully, then all this chicanery won’t be necessary to get the rest of those industrial bigwigs to hop on the bandwagon”
“Chicanery isn’t the word I’d use to describe it. It’s closer to masked intra-national subterfuge” She automatically corrected like a grammar Gestapo.
“I’m well aware of that” I deadpanned, my sarcasm soaring clear over her head.
She made a slight ‘oh’ motion with her lips, “As I’ve said before, your dry wit is a challenge to decipher. It makes me wonder how those nearest to you succeed in correctly interpreting the real meaning behind your words” She voiced her thoughts.
“They often don’t” I grumbled under my breath, eliciting a smile from my wavy haired company.
“There is additional tentatively beneficial news that you should hear before you meditate further on this” She somewhat over-elaborated after a lull.
“Oh?”
“The Hammer Forge family found your ideas for replacing the bulk of their smoothbore muzzle loading cannons with the oppositely designed rifled breech loaders to be… an objection of a sort to their principles on weapons manufacturing. To say nothing of the ammunition overhaul required for this new breed of cannon”
“And what is this Hammer Forge family known for, exactly?” I asked, wanting to potentially reeducate the smoothbore heathens on what makes for superb artillery.
Celestia looked delighted at yet another chance to lord her overarching knowledge of her country over me, “They’re the premier arms makers of Stratopolis, owning several foundries there with which they use to supply the main body of the airship fleet, which itself is moored in the harbor district, with essential materiel. True to their Valkryian heritage, they’re vaingloriously prideful and set in their ways. But not so stubborn as to spurn anything remotely promising that they could use to advance their position in the overall business hierarchy” She filled me in thoroughly.
“So what? Do they also want a demonstration before unfolding their wallets?” I held a hand palms upward in a gesture of unsurprised blasé. Come one, come all, they too would understand that they’ve been living in the early modern period, arms technology wise.
“Not quite…” Her lips pursed together, “They’ve offered up a sizable sum of bits to the originator, or ‘fabled would be Hephaestus’ to purchase the rights to this idea and all the transcripts thereof, to do with as they see fit. If not, then they’ll have no interest in seeing it come to fruition via their own support”
“Hephaestus?” I whispered to myself with confusion. More Greek?
Celestia heard me and lectured anyway, “Hephaestus Hammer Forge was the man who propelled his family name to recognition, back when Stratopolis was just a miniscule collection of separate cloud towns and settlements. His skills in metallurgy and forging were legendary, and many of his revolutionary innovations still found in Arcania’s armed forces can trace their roots back to his workshop in the center of what is now the Olympus district. His descendants all aspire to live up to his legacy, which at times seemed bigger than the real life Hephaestus”
I balked at this sudden flow of information. I didn’t comprehend that there was such ample familial history in this country that I’ve been missing out on.
“Did you know this Hephaestus in person? He must have be a rather charismatic fellow to have left behind so much”
“Of course!” She declared, “I commissioned a great many things from him back when our first palace’s foundations were in the slow process of being laid. He was the one who proposed a uniformed armor set for the Royal Guard, one that would all the same prove distinctive between clan types when it mattered”
“Right, were the emblems on their cape clasps his idea?” I hazarded a guess, parsing through what I did know. Their armor didn’t scramble or otherwise change their vocal signatures, so there couldn’t be any kind of enchantments there.
She shook her head, “Actually that was Luna’s. I adapted that to my branch of the guard after I saw how well it worked for my sister’s Night Watch. His brainchild was introducing light runes into each helmet that would identify a soldier’s rank, clan division, and identity number”
So it’s runes then. I’ve yet to notice such a thing for myself, but then again I didn’t spend long enough to take their helmets into account.
I stifled another chortle at Luna’s personal name for her guard, habitually comparing it with a similarly named organization, ‘I hope that their oaths weren’t as binding as the one I’m thinking of! Arcania is short enough on eligible men as it is’
I nodded, “I see. So what would you recommend that I do with their offer?”
“Sell to them” She insouciantly suggested with a light shrug.
I blinked. I wasn’t expecting this, “Wha-!? But didn’t you say that you wanted to keep all of this in house?” I was reasonably perplexed by her ambivalence on this matter.
She waved a hand dismissively, “I know the hiring standards of the Hammer Forges. They accept only the best and most loyal workers, which they keep on for life. They’re a relatively smaller company in comparison to the giants in Las Valkyras and Steelhatten, but you’ll find no better craftsmen and women. In fact, the wedding fiasco we had in Concordia not so long ago actually frightened the nobility of Stratopolis more than the nobles who experienced it firsthand. They’ve set up an entire system of security measures citywide that makes it incredibly difficult for their ranks to be infiltrated. They also make creative use of electrostatic shock” I did my best to appear curious so she would elaborate some more, “Fascinatingly enough, a changeling’s disguise won’t hold up to a sustained barrage of non lethal levels of electricity without wavering and subsequently failing”
‘That sounds moderately useful’ I filed that invaluable piece of knowledge away where I could draw upon it later.
I furrowed my brow at this turnabout, but accepted her judgment, “Okay… and how much did they offer to buy the schematics for? Even with the muscle memory spell guiding my hand eye coordination, copying the designs for a hydro-pneumatic recoil absorber and then altering them so they could be built into the wooden gun carriage of those found on a warship and for a horse drawn one in the field was equally tedious and tortuous for me” I didn’t want to express my full feelings on just how difficult it was, otherwise I’d have to drop a few choice expletives here and there, and that’s just bad form. Still, it’s a system miles better than simply fixing arresting ropes around a cascabel to inhibit recoil that way.
You wouldn’t believe how many moving parts are involved in a recoil dampening system. I’m fairly certain that they’ll have to ‘invent’ many of the parts necessary to recreate such a mechanism. I was unsure that many guns would be outfitted with it even if they do mass produce the design, but the ones that do will be able to fire rapidly without losing as much accuracy. I’d feel sorry for Arcania’s enemies if they weren’t doubtlessly despicable enough to deserve it.
“They’ll send someone forthwith and utilize their engineering experience to evaluate and appraise the designs, face to face. The initial estimates they gave me if your designs could legitimately function are somewhere in the range of over twenty thousand bits”
I whistled to nobody in particular, “That’s a hefty chunk of change. So this would be a weapon’s contract of sorts?”
“Of sorts” She agreed, “But they would be signing it with me. You’d only be receiving remuneration for the delivery of your facsimiles, as I know how much you value your privacy” She said, evoking a sense of appreciation from me.
This was an interesting, though not wholly undesirable, twist of plans. I was suddenly grateful that I spent extra time and effort fastidiously filling in details regarding everything related to the big guns the kingdom would need to defend itself. It was a shoo-in for purchasing by this manufacturer, if they knew their stuff and could see the genius woven into every line (not mine, of course). With this Hammer Forge family modernizing the nation’s field artillery ahead of time, Arcania would have a huge advantage starting off in any conflict. That is… if it should it be forced into open hostilities, but I’m soundly confident that the larger number of world rending prophecies involved a great conflict of some kind.
‘Never thought I might make a profit off of someone else’s hard work’ I opined to myself. But hey, if people back home could do it legally, then why not me? It’s probably to my benefit that copyright laws aren’t observed here, in addition.
“And don’t you forget it” I returned good naturedly, “Permit them a peek at the plans then” I consented to the arrangement, “Yet before I forget, just how many specialized and adept engineers will you have on hand to be working on our covert projects?”
“Not as many as I’d like” She said with a tiny frown, “Why? Do you know someone trusted who might fit the bill? We’ll need all the assistance we can get if we’re to get these undertakings up and running”
“As I matter of fact I do. His name is Gizmo. He has a Mana mark of a robot on his shoulders. Since he’s worked with automatons before, anything with moving parts involved ought to be a cinch for him. He should prove to be a boon for us” Yes, he would do nicely. Better than pawning off items of limited use, that’s for sure.
She sent me an incredulous half lidded stare, “I’ll need more than just his name and mark, Zenith”
I grumbled unintelligibly, my knack for being asocial and not asking for more personal information impeding me at inopportune times, “Just search the town registry for his name and address. If for some reason it isn’t listed, I know the name of his cousin, Flip Switch. Once you do find him, coercing him into cooperating with us will be simple, as he owes me a favor. Not that it should take much to convince him after you mention what he owes me. I have a feeling he’ll take to what we aspire to do like a fish to water” Plus the palace staff gets a killer dental plan.
One might think that drafting someone into working on comparatively futuristic designs in utmost secrecy with only a favor might be overeager of me, but I’m not the one who neglected to specify the limits of said favor… and the standard Arcanian’s sense of obligation to meaning what they say.
“How shrewd of you” She drily observed, likely coming to the same illation, “Does this settle our private talk? I imagine that Twilight is just about running herself ragged with worry at this very moment” She made to call for her when I stopped her with a halting gesticulation.
“There is something else I’d like to go over, actually. It concerns the upcoming athletic event that will be held in the Krystal Kingdom?”
“You wish to represent Magiville by taking the stage at the commencement ceremony?” She correctly inferred.
“Uhh, yes. How’d you know?” I replied, flabbergasted at her near clairvoyant insight.
‘Is Celestia psychic? How dare she read my mind like that!’ I indignantly expostulated, taking umbrage to the sanctity of my thoughts being invaded.
I was about to initiate mental static when she spoke, “Don’t look so shocked. I overheard that Rainbow Dash was pressuring you to provide additional representation for Magiville in the games. And based on the avid reviews regarding your demonstration from just before I arrived, most of the denizens that were in attendance are in eager support of such a notion. But what made you agree to commit to it?”
Whenever the Princess wants to know something about me, I can’t help but feel as if she’s attempting to get to the quintessence of who I am. She probably regarded the ‘tours’ of my psyche that I gave her as just that, tours. Enough to verify me as being worthy of her trust, and to establish a hazy idea of the world I came from. Albeit I was under the impression that she regularly made to understand the character of other people the old fashion way.
I asked my own question first, “You overheard the details of our tiny dispute over the din and babel of more than thirty conversations?” And that was a conservative estimate, what with how popular the bake sale was.
A thin smile graced her lips, “It’s a skill that you pick up with repetition, and I’ve had had to sift through countless colloquies and rooms filled with chattering people in order to listen in on information that I deem pertinent”
Whenever Celestia reminds me that she’s lived long enough to develop these skills and succeeding habits using those skills, it always puts me ill at ease.
My contorted scowl reflected this, “I’m going to overlook the fact that your reign has taught you how to eavesdrop so efficiently. To answer your earlier inquiry, I’m mostly interested in seeing if having Royal connections are all it's cracked up to be" It’s not like my identity is going to become compromised if I participate, considering how incognizant people have been reacting when they fail to perceive that I’m hiding a lot more than I let on.
She looked somewhat entertained by the bluntness of my response, “I’ll put in a good word for you. Though there might be another catch involved” She stipulated with that damnable knowing smirk that I’ll always have divided opinions about.
It wasn’t a done deal, but I absently resolved to make use of that fully stocked music room I had back at my house sometime, so I could brush up on my virtuosity. It mainly hinged on whether or not I would be taking part in any musical performances down the road, but I could always use an excuse to sharpen my hobby oriented skills.
“What kind of catch?” I regarded her with minor skepticism.
“I want you to also compete in the combative duelist’s portion of the athletic games, beyond just performing in the commencement ceremony”
“Okay…?” I accepted without much hesitation. It was better than just observing from the venue’s sidelines I guess.
Celestia had the good grace to at least look the tiniest bit sheepish, “I may… have made a friendly wager with Cadence riding on a champion of my choosing being able to best her husband and the former Captain of my Royal Guard, Prince Shining Armor. He is to be the last opponent the finalists face” She disclosed, her plural choice of wording piquing my curiosity.
I raised an eyebrow, “Has Luna also staked a claim in this little wager of yours?”
“Luna abstained from choosing a champion of her own, but she did envy me choosing you before she could” She noted with faint mirth tweaking her voice.
“I’m… flattered by you and your sister’s faith in me. What are to be the winnings of this wager?” Was all I could manage to say, suffering from an onset of the warm fuzzies.
“That was something we agreed to keep between us, I’m afraid” Celestia said in a tone that brooked no contention.
‘Fine, keep your secrets’ I shall most definitely be keeping mine.
“How will this tourney of clashing blades work?” I asked in follow up, slightly irritated at having my inquisitive request shot down.
“Each round is single combat with an opponent initially chosen at random. The victor will proceed to the following branch of the championship and face a randomized winner from a prior match. A wide array of weapons are provided and magically blunted to significantly reduce the chances of grave injuries from occurring. It varies between the types of weapons used in a match and the propinquity of a hit to vital regions, but an average of three clean strikes are required to win the round and advance”
‘So I won’t be able to bring Dichotomy to bear. That’s fine by me. I’ll just have to challenge myself to get acquainted with plain swords’ But what about my magic or other capabilities?
Celestia anticipated my next question, “All Mages whose arcane proficiency in combat exceed the standards of fairness will be hindered with a magic retardant spell field. Likewise, there will be a strict flight ceiling for Valkyrians and body weights adjusted to match the individual strength of an Agrarian participant”
Those handicaps actually sounded appropriately equalizing.
“Good, overpowered abilities need to be Nerfed sometimes. For the sake of sportsmanship, at the very least” I would know. I use them all the time in lieu of taking the hard route, force of habit, really.
Celestia paid no mind to my foreign phrasing, “I’m glad you agree, since you’ll have to be inhibited by all three. I trust that you’ll also be properly prepared for when you take the stage? The Star Seekers are a skilled group, but I wouldn’t want to see impromptu improvising on the go with their unplanned extra member”
Star Seekers eh? I’ve heard less creative names for bands. I’ve also heard more awesome and succinct names, but that’s beside the point.
I fanned the air in a frivolous gesture, “I’ll look up the tablature and appropriate musical notation and have it delivered to you along with my choices for what projects to actualize later”
‘Perhaps I best do that in person, that way I could use the palace’s training facilities to up my game with regular weapons. It would equally be the perfect excuse to see Octavia again’ I fondly thought of the elegant musician, who was part of the reason why I decided that I’d take to the stage at the games.
“Very well. But be wary, even with his magical ability stunted, Shining Armor will be no slouch in the ring of honor. I didn’t instate him to lead my Royal Guard simply because he was my personal student’s older brother” She warned me. Not that I was going to foolishly underestimate him to begin with, not before I see what he can do.
“I hold no reservations that Twilight’s B.B.B.F.F will be anything less than a serious P.I.T.A to cross blades with” I said with a sardonically dry inflection.
Now it was Celestia’s turn to stare at me with well masked dubiety, “And she’s shared her affectionate acronym for her elder sibling with you?”
My head lazily swayed from side to side, “Not at all. Need I remind you, that while she’s seen the contents of my heart… I’ve seen the contents of her head. I dare say that I know Twilight just as well (‘If not better than’) as you, Celestia”
‘Enough to know that she’s been just within eavesdropping range for the majority of this discussion, ready to spring back to shelving activities at the first sign of movement’ I’d let this one go, but if Twilight begins making disconcerting inquiries then I’ll have to give her the silent treatment.
“That’s hardly an excuse to carry on stonewalling her the way she’s briefed me about in your absence. You really must try to reciprocate my student’s gesture to include you as one of her closest friends” Celestia criticized disapprovingly. It would appear that rebuffing the egghead pisses off mother hen.
Now that’s just unfair. Is she still going on about all this jazz? Where’s my credit for compromising? For going above and beyond my comfort zone and meeting them halfway?
I held aloft a resentful index finger, “Hey, I lifted the block on her memories and apologized to her afterwards didn’t I? And I did that without having you nearby for encouragement” I defended myself with a vehement jab in her direction. I could have been a lot colder to her than I had been. That’s a guarantee when it comes to me.
She looked unconvinced by this, “And are you going to put more of an effort into giving her a chance? You’ve gotten on well with all the other Elements, as I’ve been informed. But Twilight has told me that she feels… disparaged that you haven’t extended her the same courtesy yet”
I sighed and pinched at the bridge of my nose, “All things in due time, your Highness. I’ve only just forgiven her for prying open doors that were better off remaining shut”
She reluctantly tolerated my mildly standoffish stance towards her prodigious padawan, “As long as you two share a harmonious connection to one another before the hour grows late” She mused, mostly to herself.
The enigmatic way she said that and the savvy gleam in her eye tugged at something in the back of my mind, screaming to me that I should to read between the lines. Silence reigned between us for a full minute, before my voice, ringing like the cracking of thunder, cut into it.
“What is your real reason for sending me to interact with the Elements?” It was an elementary question, with complex implications.
There was a flash of something like worry in her eyes, before it was snuffed with a speed that thousands years worth of experience stifling undue emotions afforded, “Whatever do you mean, Zenith? There were none better that I trusted could educate you on our ways of Harmonious interrelation” She laced her words with authentic sincerity, but I wasn’t buying the whole story for a second.
“Half truths do not live up to the Arcanian virtue of Honesty, Celestia” I chided, calling her out on her ruse, “You have ulterior motives for pairing me with the Elements, don’t you?” It wasn’t a question, nor was it an accusation. It was a simple statement.
She said nothing. Her facial expression was static enough to make a statue look animate in comparison. While it was didactic enough to confirm my suspicions, I would not settle for mere tacit meaning. I’d have to lay it on thicker if I was to get her to crack.
I leveled with her, “How can you expect me to ascend to the role of an Arcanian Prince if I can’t trust my fellow Sovereigns not to hide things from me? You trust me… don’t you, Princess?” I did a convincing job sounding betrayed by the idea that she might think of me as nothing more than a piece on the chessboard.
“Of course I do, Zenith!” She exclaimed in acute exasperation, before speaking softly, “But I need you to understand that I can’t always be an open book, not with my fellow rulers… not even with my own sister” That last bit was so low in volume that it was difficult to hear even with Valkyrian senses.
I didn’t dare interrupt, lest I risk provoking her to anger.
“The years after I was forced to banish Luna to the moon were the hardest of my life, Zenith. For the longest time I was unable to face my subjects alone, not without my beloved sister at my side. And so for the better part of two decades, I sealed myself away in the recently constructed castle in Concordia, preoccupying myself with ruling the nation from afar via my forbearing proxies. If that weren’t enough, even my sleep was plagued with anguish. The Elements may have stymied the better part of the Night Terror’s power before going inert, but the twisted perversion of my sister was still capable enough to specifically torment my dreams… forcing me to relive that terrible memory every night that I took hold of her moon until I figured out a way to automatically ward my mind against her when I slept”
She wiped her eyes, which were shimmering with unshed tears, “I never thought I’d be able to feel complete ever again… but when I finally emerged from my self induced exile, expecting a distant response from my subjects for my aloofness, they surprised me. The multitudes all flocked to my day court, but not to give voice to their usual concerns or to rail against my prolonged absence… ” She bared her soul to me, revealing deep secrets that I don’t believe she confided in with many, if any, others. I supposed to myself that I should deem this as a major display of trust.
“…instead they showed me profound kindness, telling me that they kept me in their prayers for the entire duration that I secluded myself. I was overwhelmed by their selfless wishes and reassurances, even sympathy and regret for the loss of my sister and coregent of the firmament. Whereas I justly deserved each and every one of my subject’s ire for abandoning them for nearly a generation, I received only endearing warmth” She tittered in heartfelt reminisce, “To think that it was the citizenry’s love for their Princess that finally accomplished what the Night Terror could not and brought me to my knees” She explained to me, her facial features bordering somewhere between happiness and self realized irony. I couldn’t deny that it did indeed have a certain poetic beauty about it.
Meanwhile, I was at an impasse of sorts. Celestia was barely holding anything back from me now that the metaphorical floodgates came crashing down and the truth came flooding in. Was it merely another ploy to get herself in my good graces? Or was she being genuine with her actions?
‘Dammit Celestia! You make it so problematic for me to suspect you of duplicity!’ My cynical and deadlocked mindset wanted to mire her image with a warning sense of distrust, but there was an equally potent part of me that insisted that I should give her the benefit of the doubt.
“When I couldn’t find it in myself to have faith in my calling anymore, they brought me out of my despair and instilled hope in me. I fondly remember one of them, a young girl no less, bringing the many prophecies divined by the Sisters of Fate to my attention. One line in particular…”
“And the Stars shall aid in her escape” I parroted Luna’s own words from when I first met her.
Celestia’s gaze cast itself downward before reconnecting with mine, “There were those who were fearful of that prognostication, and advised that I prepare for the worst. But for me it represented the opportunity to purify my sister of the envy and hatred that had clawed its way into her core and refused to let go”
“Before her legend morphed into the stuff of nightmares for centuries to come. My sister gradually became more and more detached from the world. She would seal herself in her room with increasing frequency and read into restricted things that I surmised were partially responsible for poisoning her mind against me. She established contact with something that warped her into believing that her own sister was her mortal enemy, and that the only way for her night to reign supreme was to remove her own flesh and blood from the equation”
I knew nothing of this unprecedented revelation. Is that what has her so worried about me?
“You didn’t know what it was that she was reading? It might have had a direct influence on her”
She shook her head sadly, “Whatever miasmic material she had in her quarters was eradicated along with the majority of our Neverfree castle when she transformed with violent results. If you were under the impression that my sister was corrupted contrary to her will, then you are sorely mistaken. She accepted evil into her heart of her own accord”
Even when her own family betrayed her, Celestia could only speak about the dreadful incident with remorse, excluding all resentful anger from her tone, even though it would have been a justifiable reaction. She truly loved her sister, and was devastated by this horrendous turn of events. Was it any wonder why I admired the Princess of the Sun? Her righteous spirit and indefatigable belief in the goodness within others was an inspiration to witness.
“If you feel as if that might happen to me, then you’ve got another thing coming, Celestia. I’m not so hermetic or averse to companionship in my life that I declare war on it. I simply have different ideas on what I consider to be a legitimized friendship, and as such it takes longer for me to recognize those connections. Yet once they are, those bonds are forged with a strength rivaling the sturdiest of metals. I’ll fully acknowledge that I like being alone… but I also enjoy being surrounded by people that I care about, and who also care about me” I just do a terrible job of showing it, mostly.
“And what caused this reserved behavior of yours that you’ve seen fit to shield yourself with?” Her perception was astute, I’ll admit, but it couldn’t pinpoint the cause of the whole motive for doing so.
“Some of it’s natural, I’ll have you know” I said with a blank expression, defending my introversion ardently, “But I guess I’m additionally just… saddled with a lot of baggage related to people from home” I looked away from her, staring hard at one of the living walls of the treebrary.
Celestia saw that this wasn’t something I liked to talk about and refrained from pursuing it further, “Do you miss them?” She abruptly asked out of the blue.
“Who?” I automatically responded, refocusing on her.
She tilted her neck at me, “Leave the who’ing to Twilight’s owl. You know of whom I speak”
“Does one ask a parched man if he wants a nice, cool glass of water?” I retorted, not appreciating having been reminded of my family.
“She does if one shows up in her backyard” Celestia calmly riposted, turning my defensive words against me with her sharp wit.
I leaned across the table and peered into her unwavering light purple eyes, “With. Every. Single. Iota. Of. My. Being” I punctuated each word, “I was my parent’s only child, Celestia. Disregarding my opinion on the matter, how do you think they feel? One day I was there, the next I wasn’t. They have no body, no clues, and no inkling whatsoever as to what became of me. Their hair has probably gone white with grief by now!” I settled back into my seat and sighed with intense frustration while holding a hand to my face. This was something I was extremely bitter about.
I felt supple fingers wrap themselves around my shoulder and a tender voice speak into my ear, “You have my deepest condolences for what happened to you, Zenith” She said comfortingly. I removed my hand from my eyes and turned my head to see a sympathetic Celestia crouched low by my side.
“I don’t know if I’d be able to go on without my sister in my life, and you don’t even have a sibling to lean on when the hand that life deals you is grueling. But you are strong, and I have a hunch that you’ve inherited that trait from one, if not both, of your parents. They’ll pull through and endure… and so will you” She smiled at me, and I could feel the inner turmoil fade away from my soul with every second that I fixed my vision on those immaculate orbs. Not that what she told me wasn’t anything I hadn’t already gathered myself, but there was something inspiritingly persuasive about hearing it from someone else.
“Thank you, Celestia. That means a lot coming from you” I gave her a bona fide smile in return, before it turned mischievous, “You still haven’t answered my earlier question about your other motive for sending me here though”
Celestia’s dimples filled themselves in at light speed, “Damn…” She muttered an expletive, “A diversion of that magnitude usually works with most people” She almost sounded secretly pleased that she’d been caught.
I maintained my grin, “I am not most people, Celestia. You ought to know that by now. I am, however, grateful for your support” I spoke with gratitude. My mother would often do the same thing to me, and she succeeded more than the Princess ever would.
‘The ball is in my court, Princess. Fess up’
“Fair enough” She conceded with a shrug, “The other reason I want you to build a good rapport with the Elements is because I have a sinking premonition that the fate of the world will depend on it”
‘Oh, that might be a good reason’ A woman’s intuition is mysterious, but rarely wrong. I’ll err on the side of caution and redouble my efforts in this friendship business.
She gently poked me in the chest, “Think about that the next time you feel like snubbing poor Twilight”
“Fineeeee” I dramatically whined, “But she’s got a lot to make up for, never the less”
“How about a sleepover in the library next Sunday? That way all of the girls can reinforce our connection with you” A voice, one that didn’t belong to the woman adjacent to me, said aloud from the archway. I swiveled in place to see Twilight standing by the passage entrance.
She bowed her head penitently to the Princess, “I apologize for my unsanctioned overhearing of parts of your private conversation with Zenith, your Highness, but I couldn’t help but suggest something to proactively restore some semblance of friendship with him” She rubbed at one of her arms nervously, “I’ve been hoping for a moment to right things between us, and this felt like the most opportune time”
“Speak of the devil and she shall appear” I mumbled to myself too low for anyone but Celestia to hear (who expectedly frowned at my remark), “That proposal is agreeable, Twilight. In fact, I’ll be the one to provide the entertainment” I capitalized on this welcome idea. It’s been far too long since I last shared a good movie with someone using my laptop’s extensive selection. Twi’s not the only one who had been biding their time for an opportunity like this.
She clapped her hands together, “I’ve only had gynocentric slumber parties before! This will be the perfect occasion for me to study the effects of sociocultural dynamics when a single male shares sleeping space with several unwed females!”
The blood drained from my face, ‘Oh God, she’s going to turn it into a science experiment’
“That doesn’t sound empirically feasible, bookworm” I drily commented, with the aim of suppressing her inner scientist.
“Nonsense!” She waved a hand, undeterred, “I’ve already got a layout for who will be in the control group for spin the bottle!” She spouted excitedly.
I scoffed loudly at this, “Screw your girly sleepover activities! We’re going to be having a proper movie night! No written observations, no inferences, and no studies of any kind” I dictated. Her methodical quirks were going to ruin the fun, which I would not abide by.
She didn’t like her chance to study something unique like this being shot down so easily, but gave my counteroffer some thought, “Well… I do have a projector stashed away somewhere in the basement. Are you going to be supplying the film reels?”
I replied in the negative, “There’s no need to pull such a clunky thing out. I’ve got a surprise for everyone that should really capture your attention come this Sunday”
“Right… surprise” She refused to meet my eyes, engendering mine to narrow in scrutiny. How very suspicious.
She shifted focus to her teacher, “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon, Princess? Now that Zenith and I have worked out the worst of our issues, there doesn’t seem to be much anchoring you here”
“So eager to be rid of me, Twilight?” Celestia said, relishing the harmless humor in causing her student to squirm.
“T-that’s not what I meant!” She stuttered in dismay.
“Relax, my dearest student” The Princess calmed her with a mollifying vocal resonance, “The Night’s supervision falls under my sister’s dominion. I am free to spend my time during the hours of moonlight however I see fit. Here is as good a place as any to ‘bed down’ until I am required again”
Twilight repetitively tilted her head downward, “My library and all of its substantial resources are yours to command, Princess Celestia” I heard Celestia smother back a worn out sigh. She could only take so much of being Princess’ed as I could of being sir’d.
“Do those resources happen to include a set of playing cards? I have an idea for what we could do to pass the hours until it’s time for us to go” I proffered.
Celestia eyed me strangely, “Would you perhaps teach us one of your homeland’s custom tailored games? Luna found the casinos that she saw in your dreams as some of the most lavish since her visit to Las Valkyras”
“I would be delighted to” I acquiesced. I was not surprised that Luna had been sharing our dreamland adventures with her sister.
“Uhh… I think Spike keeps a deck somewhere, I’ll go ask if we can borrow his before his bedtime” Twilight took a brief leave of us to go retrieve said deck.
I waited for her footfalls to crest the top of the stairs before making my solicitation, “Now that I know she’s out of hearing range, I’d like to ask you for some sensitive information which she won’t be privy to”
I received a critical look from the monarch, either for my blunt wariness of the bookworm’s nosiness or the nature of my request I couldn’t tell, “Such as?”
I wasn’t going to beat around the bush for this one, “Where is Daring Do? She couldn’t guarantee that she’d send me any letters apprising me of her trips into the wild blue yonder, but I’d feel worlds better knowing that she is safe”
“Based on her last report to me a little over a week ago, she was investigating a lead near the borderline of Gryphondria and Cervidia. So I’d safely assume that is where she is for the time being”
“And how often do you hear from her, regarding her status?” I inquired, apprehensive of whatever dangers she might be facing down without me to watch her back.
“Anywhere between a week and well over a month” At my incredulous stare she amended her answer, “It isn’t anything I’d get worked up in a tizzy over, Zenith. She frequently goes dark for extended periods at a time, owing to the furtive nature of her work. Her being unable to send you letters simply means that she has found a lead worth her undivided engrossment”
“May I ask what Daring is to you?” She tossed a question back.
“She is… precious to me beyond measure” I told her, my eyes likely glinting with fond remembrance of the plucky adventuress, "Daring is the first person to have wholly convinced me to abandon my ideas of becoming one with the background. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be scratching a living somewhere else so I could sightsee the world on my own. Never mind what plans ‘fate’ had in store for me” Either way, I had a gut feeling that I would be getting what I originally wanted regardless.
“I see…” The Princess uttered with uncharacteristic terseness. I was too deep in thought to pay it any mind however.
I scoured my memory banks, “What was it she was searching for again? Some kind of Shards of Sheol?”
Celestia nodded, “That is what it’s taken to being labeled. Rumors began popping up in the abstruse history scene a while back. An earthquake in the desolate deserts of Aridia shifted the greats dunes there and exposed a Ziggurat older than anything ever studied before. Explorers sent from the grand oasis city of Marabia… found something buried deep inside of its sand blasted depths after a hasty excavation”
“What did they find?” I breathed. Celestia was no Alfred Hitchcock in her presentation, but I was captivated by suspense none the less.
“A jagged fragment of a crystal that was said to have been the length of a long cubit. It was a shadowy object of such foulness that it seemed to devour all the ambient light shone on it. The written report that my staunch agent, our Daring Do, snagged for me concerning its other properties claimed that it filled the air with harsh whispers in a foreign tongue that could not be translated and put everyone who heard it on edge”
“Sounds Evil” I idly remarked, processing the added tidbit involving Daring ‘obtaining’ intelligence for Celestia. And here I only thought that she trespassed in the Sultan’s personal library and departed with a crossbolt to the shoulder blade as a souvenir.
“A grievously accurate description, I fear. Every single person involved in the Sultan’s recovery team who lingered for more than a few hours around the fragment, died a gruesome death within scant days of each other. All of them were frozen in positions of pure terror and pointing at some far off apparition as though it was coming for them” Her voice was quiet and her eyes downcast.
That’s not disturbing or anything.
“What was the cause of their untimely deaths?” I asked after a hesitant lull.
“Outwardly they looked whole and healthy, but autopsies performed on the bodies revealed that their major organs underwent spontaneous failure before putrefying rapidly. Whatever power that was in that crystal spared no expense in tearing them asunder and putting their lives at an abrupt end” She shook her head in disgust, “The earliest chance I could, I pressured the Sultan into isolating it where it could not do any more harm, after his sensible attempts to destroy it proved fruitless”
“And you’ve sent Daring to retrieve such a treacherous thing?” I almost growled, that highly protective part of me I’ve only recently started listening to flaring up.
Celestia was unfazed by the accusation in my tone, “She knew of the hazards before she agreed to pursue this, Zenith. I doubt I could have stopped her from seeking it even if I had issued an order forbidding her from doing so. Her headstrong attitude is what makes her my most tenacious agent overseas. You mustn’t fret over this. Daring is equipped with the tools and experience to favorably deal with whatever she finds. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that we are not the only ones who know about these shards. I will not risk any factions, rogue or official, striving to find and use them for their own gain”
‘Well… if her sizable series of ‘fiction’ novels are any indication, Daring has the credentials to make it out of any dire situation she winds up in. I have the utmost faith in her’
“Probably for the best” I begrudgingly concurred, “How do we know for a fact that there are more of these unholy shards lurking throughout the world?”
“We don’t know it as factual, but Hieroglyphs that were still intelligible in the preceding chambers of the structure strongly suggested that the crystal the shards originate from had once been the means of imprisoning a nameless and calamitous malevolence, much like the way you’ve incarcerated Azure Phoenix. It was shown to be subsequently broken up into multiple pieces in order to be hidden by a society composed of many puissant and influential individuals from differing countries and nationalities all working together in tandem. It is reassuring to know that Harmony was just as prevalent then as it is now” She stated with pride.
“I’m back!” Announced Twilight as she swung around the corner, “Sorry for the wait, Spike was a bit reluctant to dig into the contents of his closet for his comic hero themed cards”
“Stop apologizing so frequently, it’s not like we expect perfect punctuality from you every moment of every day” I chided her, which had less of an overall effect than it would have if it were Celestia speaking. Not that unexpected to be honest. I wasn’t the person who was practically a second mother to her.
“Sor-” She promptly caught herself and cleared her throat, “Right. So what game are we learning that wasn’t covered in the ‘Big book of activities for homebodies?’”
‘Twilight would have read something of the like, wouldn’t she?’
“It’s called ‘I doubt it’, though back home we crassly referred to it as ‘Bullshit’. The goal is get rid of the hand you have by ostensibly laying down a card blank side up that follows the correct sequence of cards starting from the ace when its your turn. If another player thinks that the player who just went is bluffing, they call bullshit. The accused player then has to show what card they put down. If they were indeed bluffing, then the player adds the whole pile to their hand. If the accuser calls incorrectly, then they take the pile. The first player to completely discard their hand before anyone else wins the game”
“This game doesn’t seem very honest” Twilight observed with faint unease.
“Well that’s what makes it so fun to play. You have to use your perceptive and mnemonic skills to determine whether or not your fellow player is pulling your leg. The fewer cards you have, the more likely someone will call your bluffs. Likewise, it is easier for a player with more cards to empty their hand without jeopardy. It’s a complex strategy involved for a relatively simple card game. Plus it’s fun to cry out ‘bullshit!’. At least for me anyways” I shrugged nonchalantly.
“I for one find the idea of such an unorthodox game to be oddly charming” Celestia expressed her opinion, “Deal me in”
The second she saw her mentor approve, Twilight hopped aboard, “Okay. Count me in too!”
And so for the remainder of the night, we played several rounds of cards. Twilight took a while to really get the hang of it (she also called us on our bluffs the boring way, using the standard ‘I doubt it’ designation), but was quick on the uptake once she did. Celestia used her day court ‘Princess face’ to her advantage and neither Twilight nor I will able to reliably discern her false facedown cards, so it was a roughly fifty-fifty shot at calling her after her turns. To my unending frustration, both the Princess and the bookworm were able to tell when I didn’t pile on the card I said I did. Moreover, I’m fairly certain that they were using their intimate mentor-student bond with the express purpose of picking on me. Then again, a sporadic, nigh imperceptible glow like that of a dying ember from either of them was a clue in that they weren’t necessarily playing a deceptive game equitably (which I deemed as my own fault. I didn’t explicitly notify them that they couldn’t use magic).
Still, it was great fun to have the freedom of calling bullshit on the Princess (Twilight winced and sent me a heated glare for every instance that I did) without lasting repercussions. Even more delightful was when Celestia shed her regal decorum and liberally returned the favor while putting her own sophisticated inflection on it. It was an unprecedented move that shocked her student into stunned, gaping silence for a full three minutes and drove me to a small fit of chuckles. She hid it exceptionally well, but it was visible to the more observant that Celestia cherished moments like this. This illation was evidenced by a modest, sincere smile that made its stand on her lips and denied any attempts to dislodge it.
Twilight also gave off the impression of contentment with her precious Princess nearby. She was stubbornly formal about it, but I was there to offset the bookworm’s stuffiness with my casual disregard for etiquette (which I knew that Celestia found to be a breath of fresh air). None of us were subjected to the influence of drowsiness as the clock ticked on. Celestia was enjoying herself far too much to become susceptible to drowsiness, Twilight was a hardcore veteran of studying who had seen many all nighters, and I persisted on account of being a Nightlark; simple as that.
As with all good times though, it came to a regrettable end. Celestia must have had one hell of a body clock, because she was instinctively able to tell when it was an only a quarter of an hour until sun-up. Twilight rubbed away the exhaustion that was settling into her eyes and wished her teacher a fond farewell, promising to stick to her deadline of various reports. I stood from my seat and saw to her departure in person like a right gentleman.
“The Sun must rise soon, and I must return to the capital not long after. But before I go, how would you like me to put on a little show for you?” She invited me as we stepped outside.
“And if I were to refuse your no doubt generous offer?” I asked for the sake of being contrary.
“Then I would lock you in place and show you anyway” She pseudo jested, knowing that she was more than capable of doing so without much resistance on my part, what with the massive amounts of mana she was packing. I was only able to elude her bewitched (and rather sultry at the time) clutches through whip smart ingenuity on my part and hubris on hers.
“Well seeing as I have no choice… show away” I said as I idly inspected some redness on my wrist without the slightest chip in my composure.
Celestia acknowledged me by sauntering ten paces from my position and turning to face me. The scant light that escaped from the confines of the library and illuminated her features hinted to me that her eyes were closed like she was concentrating on a task. I noted offhand in the corner of my vision that the Moon was speedily dipping beneath the horizon. The Princess’s focal gem sparked to life and covered her body in a warm golden aura. Her rippling hair parted to unveil two eyelids that opened up and revealed pupils that were overlaid in a fiery orange gleam as she glanced skywards. Majestic, ethereal wings of the purest white sprouted from her back and she rose into the twilit sky with a couple gentle flaps, her arms held loosely outwards at her sides. Accompanying her ascent was her namesake sun, which peeked over the rolling hills in the eastern distance and signaled the arrival of a new day.
I watched all of this happen in the span of ten seconds with silent wonderment. Whatever involuntary dubiety I had about the Princess’s ability to influence the heavens were put to ease after this manifestation of sheer power. Still, having been used to the Sun and Moon answering to no person’s beckoning for two decades back home meant that the spectacle I had just witnessed deserved a spot in the top ten preternatural things I’ve seen since arriving in a world not my own.
“That was quite a show, Celestia” I commended aloud to her as she floated down to Earth, “A bit on the flashy side though” I added in afterthought.
My subdued response caused her to laugh joyously, its rich peals ringing throughout the air, “You are a singularly tough audience to impress, Zenith. The masses go absolutely wild whenever I do that for them during the Summer Sun Celebration, and that’s a once a year occurrence” She winked at me.
I rolled my eyes, “Don’t I feel special. Be sure to reward yourself with an inordinate amount of cake as consolation for my rigorous standards” I quipped.
“That is an excellent suggestion” She smirked deviously at me, “I’ll have the palace bakers name their next commission in your honor” She teased me. Or I think she was teasing me. It is cake, and this is Celestia I’m referring to after all.
‘What in the world is she implying?’ My mind was addled trying to decipher her meaning.
I cast off my confusion and stayed true to my flippant bearing, “Make certain that it’s the best cake you’ll ever have. Ensure that it is composed of several layers with flavors that both contrast and complement the others. No colors brighter than crimson, and see to it that the core of the cake is a mystery that can only be reached with a carving knife crafted out of the void of interstellar space itself” I specified in detail with a straight face. If I was going to have a confection named after me then it had better do me justice dammit!
She giggled musically, “Just when I believe that I have you figured out, you say something witty like that and send me right back to the drawing board. Never change, Zenith” She told me with heartfelt candor, causing the warm fuzzies to come back to me en masse.
She appraised the rays of light that were beginning to fill the valley, “Though I often feel as though my title as Princess of the Day is a misnomer. I’m only responsible for raising it during the early morning hours of Dawn, otherwise I leave it be for the rest of its travel along the sky”
I snorted softly at that, a small puff of vapor exiting through my nostrils due to the chilly air, “Don’t be ludicrous! Then we’d have to call you Eos the Dawnbringer!” I proclaimed; drawing upon what little knowledge I had of the minor Greek deities.
She considered what I basically shouted in jest with a thoughtful hum, “Perhaps. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going. My guards are a patient bunch, but making them stand sentry over my carriage for hours at a time is something that I am loath to do to them, even if they don’t mind. Fare thee well Zenith, until our paths cross again” She said in parting, which I repaid with a valedictory wave.
Once she was out of sight, I prepared to take my own leave. My wings fanned wide and I was about to take off when I heard Twilight’s voice call out to me, “Zenith wait!”
I stifled an annoyed sigh and looked back to see her standing by the doorway with her hand outstretched towards me like I was liable to disappear. Which to her credit, I likely was.
“Yes, Twilight?” I replied in a strained tone.
“I was hoping I could have a few words with you in private, the Princess advised that I speak my mind. The sooner the better, if that’s alright with you” She meekly requested, beckoning me into her dwelling.
“If you insist” I obliged her, passing through the doorway and hearing her close the door behind me.
“So what did yo-” I started, before finding myself the victim of another sudden hug by Twilight. I awkwardly patted her on the back, but did not return it this time.
She looked up at me, resting her chin on the lower folds of my robe collar, “I meant what I said, Zenith. I would like nothing better than to rebuild my friendship with you. Something I feel was damaged by my incessant need to know more. I always become like this when that which I cannot comprehend stumps me. The same happened when I tried to study Pinkie’s precognitive sense when I alternately should have quit while I was ahead. As you can imagine, it didn’t turn out that well… I’m still leery of bees” She shivered from the abject memories conjured by that black and yellow striped noun.
‘I guess she should have just let it bee’
And now my weekly quota for tasteless puns has been met.
“You’re alluding to what you saw inside of me, aren’t you?” I asked rhetorically.
“I’ll never forget what I saw in you” She said in an abnormally muted voice.
“I have a teeming horde of personal issues, some far more deeply suppressed than others, Twilight. You know this better than anyone else now”
She nodded sadly, before perking up, “I know… but it only makes me that much more determined to carry out my task!” She asserted with enthusiasm.
“Nice to know that I’m also a checklist item” I dryly commented, before talking to her on the level, “We’re on opposite ends of the spectrum, you and I, in more ways than one. But that isn’t an excuse for the reclusive way I’ve been behaving overall, and for that I must apologize. I haven’t been fair to the people of this land, relationship wise. I keep judging them based on the standards that have been instilled in me from home. I’ve so easily overlooked the fact that a good nine tenths of the people living here are practically saints in all but name. In this manner, I have failed to truly appreciate this genial, altruistic society of yours” I confessed to her. Heck, even their snooty nobles weren’t that terrible, by and large.
“Our misunderstanding is mutual then, in that respect. You never did let on much about this mysterious land or country you came from” She thoughtfully remarked, “And yet you are a Trifect just like the Princesses. Will you ever tell me just who you are?” She eyed me pointedly.
“You should know by now that I’ll only ever fill you in on the story behind my life’s situation when the rest of the girls are there to hear it. I won’t explain myself to you all more than once”
Her posture slumped a little in disappointment, before I detected a glint in her eyes that notified me that she had already seen the solution, “In that case… I suppose I’ll just have to wait until the sleepover then”
She quivered in barely restrained joy once her thoughts cycled back to the slumber party, “Oh, it’s been so long since I last had a good sleepover! The last one didn’t count since I was too ‘mopesie wopesie’ as Pinkie so eloquently put it” She emphasized with the quote fingers.
She didn’t stop there, “It serves a dual purpose too! You can fill us in on some critical information that’s been nagging at each of us, and we can additionally participate in activities that are scientifically proven to strengthen our ties together!”
I raised an eyebrow, “Again with the science?”
She gave me an incredulous glance, “Of course! Would you like me to show you the graphs and linked causality charts?”
“I’d rather just take your word for it” I cringed and dismissively wagged a hand. It was too early for me to be putting up with this.
“We should catch up on some sleep, Twilight. It never hurts to be well rested. I should fly back home before folks start waking up”
She blocked me as I made for the door, “I won’t hear any of it. You’re staying here and that’s final!”
“What? You want me to sleep down in the basement again? I really can’t… not after what happened down there” The location of the deed actually had no effect on me, but she could do to perceive that it did. That way she’d let me go.
“And you won’t have to” She countered without skipping a beat, “I have a collapsible cot that I use on prolonged field trips stored under my bed. I’ll go and fetch that for you”
I was the one to block her this time, “That’s fine, Twilight. But before you go and do that, I need to get something off my chest” She looked at me in slight confusion but gave me the go ahead.
I took a deep breath before glaring lightly at the bookworm, “If you EVER betray my trust the way you did down in that basement again… I will eviscerate you and redecorate the library using your entrails as garlands” I seethed gutturally. My hands subconsciously clenched until the knuckles in my fists popped loudly.
Her pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks and her breathing halted as she stared open mouthed at me in horror. Gradually she recovered and chuckled fearfully to herself, “Good one… Zenith. I know that what I did crossed a lot of lines that shouldn’t be crossed, but there’s no need to be joking so morbidly”
My right eyebrow rose an inch as I watched her sidle past me, ‘She thought I was joking?’
I banished the surge of negative emotions that were flowing through me with practiced ease. My very sincere warning to Twilight served as enough of an outlet for my anger that it no longer needed to be vented. The aforementioned woman descended the stairs a short while later with the light green colored cot in question. She set it up for me in between two bookcases that weren’t part of the library’s natural wall shelves. The somewhat disheveled librarian followed this up by wishing me a good morning’s sleep, flipping a ‘closed for maintenance’ sign around the door, and pulling the curtains down over the windows before getting some shuteye herself. I traipsed to the bare boned bed and tucked myself into the cushion-less cot’s mauve colored blanket, processing one more thought before drifting off.
‘Looks like finding out how plush my Master Suite’s bed is like will have to be postponed… again’
⁂
“We’re burning it, Sparkle. End of story” I flatly declared as we trudged through a thicket-infested, once cobbled pathway that nature was slowly reclaiming with the passage of time.
“B-but! It’s one of a kind! Think of all the ancient knowledge that’s hidden between those pages!” Twilight protested poignantly, trying her damnedest to jump high enough to snatch it out of my grasp, but I held firm.
I found it slightly hilarious that she was so distracted by the prospect of me destroying a priceless tome that she forgot that she could simply try magicking it to safety. I’d quickly disabuse of her that notion if she did, but my point still stands.
It was an hour or so till the afternoon of Tuesday, when the palace archive’s copies of olden history were slated to arrive. Nothing really happened on Monday that was worth mentioning. Though Twilight consistently mustered excuses for me to stay and assist in boring, mundane librarian stuff while she more or less gave Spike the week off. Not one to let a good opening go to waste, I had him take a note to Rarity explaining to her that I’d need some repair work done on my robes. I knew that her Boutique was one of the first places on his itinerary, even though he would deny it if asked. So I gave him an excuse that was convenient for the both of us. I read between the lines that she wanted to spend time with me and indulged her. It was your usual ‘I’m penitent and proving’ spiel by and large, but she authentically put her heart into it, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Most of the things we talked about were clarifying the abstract concepts and viewpoints that she beheld in my soul that went against what she was taught growing up. Many times she was tempted to delve deeper than that, but had the nous to keep it to herself.
Celestia was not lying when she said that my healing factor would make me hungrier than I had ever felt before, so Twilight offering to pay for lunch as remuneration for my help around the treebrary was a Godsend. Though for the price of feeling like my stomach was going to devour itself, having such an efficient rate of healing was quite nice. I looked as good as new, and even patches of marred skin that I was sure were going to emerge darker than the rest turned out fine. The only real problem I had so far was that the bookworm exhorted me to spend the week bunked up at her residence, stating sardonically that it was the ‘Week of Twilight’ and that she took her commitments seriously. While I admired how she was so dedicated to righting her previous wrongs, her strong-arming me into procedurally doing things her way was thoroughly testing my patience.
The reason why we we’re currently marching through the Neverfree (an unusually quiet affair, barring the odd, rogue ‘Cragadile’ as the Crocks were officially named, according to the walking encyclopedia in the guise of a companion) was by virtue of a visit from Luna during my dreamtime. The Princess of the Night had been reading up on the book that I had fetched for her back in the ruined Neverfree castle, and came upon an entry that concerned her. Apparently the derelict library of endless clichés contained a different book (It was more of a stone tablet with pages attached, really) with questionable incantations inside. Since it was undesirable for such a book to be left where any person or hapless fool who knew what they were doing or got lucky could stumble upon it, the Princess assigned me to prevent such a scenario, no matter how unlikely, from taking place. In a rather ironic way… I was acting as Luna’s version of her sister’s relic retrieving agent.
Twilight tagged along mainly because she wanted to check up on Zecora, and to collect the reagents that I couldn’t since the list that she gave to me was reduced to flaky, burnt, illegible pieces. I did what I could to dissuade her from following me into the castle, however she gave me the whole ‘But it’s dangerous to go alone!’ spiel and refused to budge from my side. She was anything but an encumbrance though, pointing out rare species of plants that would have resulted in nasty rashes from physical contact and casting a myriad of spells around us that doubled as predator repulsion fields and insect repellant. As you can imagine, she was not happy to hear what I intended to do to the book after all the trouble I went through of bagging it.
I switched the hands I was holding the book with and glowered at the pesky woman, “The only thing this book is filled with is knowledge that leans heavily towards EVIL… and mildew” I humorously included, though the bookworm was blind to the comical aspect. Why the Princesses would stow this in some timeworn stone chamber instead of destroying it is beyond me.
“Princess Celestia taught me dark magic techniques that leaned towards evil, and I was able to resist! So please Zenith, don’t do this! I can’t bear the thought of losing this opportunity to learn something never before seen!” Her eyes were misty, and her cheeks were trembling as she tried to stifle her sniffles. All in all, it was a sight that only a particularly heartless person could look at and not feel even the slightest pinch of vacillation.
‘So what does it say about me that I don’t feel anything at all?’ I brooded wordlessly.
I sighed, “Listen, Twilight. I didn’t risk a crumbling stair trap dangling over a bottomless abyss just so you could add another forbidden text to your repertoire of parlous knowledge” I kept my stance, the controversial contents of her old tower library occurring to me. As if she needed more questionable material to tantalize her bad habits.
I had to cut it close Indiana Jones style with a desperate leap, clinging onto the jagged ledge by four sweat slicked fingers before hauling myself up with the book in tow. Panic periodically causes me to forget that I could have just flown my way out of that type of predicament. A fact that my present company saw fit to remind me with.
“But you have wings! You were in no real peril of falling! And even if you didn’t, I would have caught you with my magic!” She objected, desperate to change my mind.
I waved a free hand, “That’s beside the point. Luna told me that it was vital that this book be destroyed, and after getting a peek of what horrors lay within, I’m feeling inclined to agree with her. So that’s what I’m going to do” And nothing she could say would stop that.
Once I brought Luna’s instructions up, the ever obedient Arcanian citizen backed down, “Can you at least tell me what it was that you read?” She asked in a fragile, capitulating voice.
I shrugged to myself in a ‘why not’ gesture, “The spark notes version is that this book contains incantations that will transform you into a neurotic, obsessed, perfection seeking monster that will stop at nothing to get what you want. Provided you speak the words aloud, that is” I relayed to her. I didn’t need any more of those people in my life, thank you very much.
I shuddered, ‘Imagine what would happen if Rarity got her hands on this!’ Yeah, this thing was definitely getting incinerated.
Twilight moaned in regret, “Incantations? But I know so few of those! Are you certain that the Princess told you to destroy it?” She nettled me with the question she already knew the answer to but couldn’t fully accept.
I pressed the linen wrapped book adjacent to my chest, where Twilight peered at it longingly, “I say, and I quote, ‘Do not hesitate to wipe this blight of a spell caster’s volume off the face of the Earth! No good can come of it’ unquote. That’s pretty damn certain of her, bookworm” Her passionate plea made sense after her sister filled me in on the events preceding the rise of the Night Terror. Luna probably held a grudge against any and all corruptive written works, and I couldn’t fault her for being of that opinion.
“Fine!” The woman crossed her arms together and shifted the leather satchel containing her ground up reagents so it rode higher on her shoulders, “But Princess Luna hasn’t heard the end of this from me” She growled to no one in particular.
The rest of the journey back was spent picking the brains of a miserable looking Twilight in an attempt to pull her out of her funk. It mostly worked, with her mind elsewhere besides the doomed book I held in my grasp, she stopped dragging her feet and swapped crabby mode for intellectual lecture mode. I paid enough attention that I even learned a few things that I might not have otherwise picked up, like how the Neverfree was approximately one hundred kilometers across at its widest (stretching southbound anyway), which the locals considered to be extremely large. Twilight saw their standards as being overstated, since the forests of Cervidia were hundreds of miles wide in comparison, they spanned the country’s complete border with Gryphondria, and were just as pregnant with mystery, owing to the reclusive nature of its occupants.
We made good time back to the Golden Oak library. Twilight had gotten over the worst of her sullen mood and was spouting countless facts and tidbits on a broad range of subjects that held little use for me but were interesting to hear regardless. I took advantage of her distraction to add the tablet like book to my robe’s inventory. The minute that we were back, Twilight sequestered herself in her basement to make expeditious use of Zecora’s reagents, while I waited for Celestia’s promised historical documents to turn up in the mail.
To pass the time before they arrived, I began browsing the copious bookshelves for anything that would catch my fancy and keep it. Much to my vexation, the sorting system of the library was entirely alphabetized, not the organized classification by category devised in the Dewey decimal system. I recorded a mental note to myself to leave her a note describing to her just how she could optimize her library’s efficiency if she utilized Dewey’s brainchild.
Eventually I came across a selection of volumes that I deemed valuable enough to read. They didn’t have an official overarching name tying them together, but seemed to be a compendium on the study of magic and all themes therein. I had plenty of opportunity back when I was lodging inside Twilight’s tower in Concordia to study about magic, but the tomes available to me there were… esoteric at best, and made for singularly dry reading. I found myself a nice little nook close to the door that would allow me to be in the nearby vicinity if anybody came knocking. I dropped the load of books that I collected and carried with me and piled them on the desk, before pulling out a chair and sitting down for some reading. I’ve always had a penchant for speedily analyzing texts while maintaining sufficient retention of what I’ve read. Of course, I might have had an overallotment of points invested in that skill… because while I breezed through the written language with ease, computational numbers and the like bogged me down severely.
Thankfully, such was not the case with the first book I opened up. While it was comprehensive in its overall scope, the author (who remained unnamed) or whoever penned it down did a decent job of simplifying terms to the point where the layman could easily envision the meaning behind the paragraph’s message. Magic was defined as the regularly occurring Arcane energy that rushed through the core of the Earth and permeated the atmosphere, where it would at some point flow back into the Earth like a macro scale circulatory system. There was a footnote speculating on the existence of magic in the stars themselves as well. But there was no way for modern day academics to substantiate this speculation.
Similar to the Force, it surrounded and bound everything together like strands in a metaphorical ball of yarn, with it showing a peculiar affinity toward living things. Organic (and inorganic creatures like the monstrous star beasts, who were all but completely composed of the stuff given solid shape) organisms had their own pool of magic to call upon, whether deliberately or through diffusion into the body to aid with natural processes. They could replenish it, when they ran low (complete expenditure of magic causes a long lasting kind of physiological harm in most cases. That’s how reliant on magic living things are in this world. The same proved doubly so for the exotic star beasts, although such an event was unlikely), through passive absorption of their environment’s magic and internally modifying it to match their arcane signature, or ‘fingerprint’ from the sound of it.
Magic existed in dozens of forms, but each form could morph into another one if certain circumstances were met. The closest analogy to compare with it was the inherent energy in a log of wood being converted into thermal and light energy during ignition. What made magic separate from those other forms of everyday energy was that it was almost exclusively harnessed by organic willpower, both directly and indirectly. There were numerous ways to harness magical energies, which manifested in practices such as vocal incantations (a lesser used method, but still effective and versatile. Those were associated with the prohibitive geas), alchemical solutions blended from magical materials and herbs (this one was favored by the Zstarasians, who did not have a conduit or medium like a focal gem to channel magic through), spells (such as those used extensively by the Stellar Magi and myself), and many more.
Magical forces had ‘charges’, but not in the same way as one would associate with electrostatic attractions or magnetic pulls of the north and south variety. For instance, instead of similar forces repelling each other, there was a magnification effect the more of an ‘alike’ magic was concentrated in the same area. Points in the leylines that crisscrossed the Earth with the highest concentrations of magic were referred to as Hotspots. Hotspots were phenomena that came about both normally and artificially. The latter of the two was present in the case of the Krystal Kingdom, which allowed for it to subsist and even thrive in an otherwise unforgiving frozen tundra in the far north. This would also explain why living in the vicinity of the Crystal Heart’s sphere of influence resulted in positive feelings regardless of how crappy a day one was having (it skirted the lines of magical brainwashing dangerously close, if you ask me). It took the positive emotions emanating from people’s hearts and propagated it. From what I remember learning, King Sombra had a way with crystals and found a way to pervert the Heart so that it spread great fear of himself, which allowed him to more evenly oppress the population once he had seized the throne for his disreputable and nefarious purposes. I didn’t know whether to be amused or marginally disconcerted that the Heart had little to no noticeable impact on my undeviating mood during my time there.
Interestingly, the author was resolute in their belief that magic was neither inherently good nor evil, and that its ‘alignment’ depended solely on the one who wielded it. To put it simply, spells that most judged to be evil could theoretically be used for good. Oppositely, light sided spells could also be used to malicious effect. After mulling it over for a bit, I could understand where the author was coming from. Magic was like a gun in that respect. It was indisputably dangerous and could maim or kill with but the slightest action, but it lacked a free will to do so of its own accord. There had to be someone ‘pulling the trigger’, so to speak. The author did concede in the footnotes that some forms of magic tended to ‘lean’, in that its influence could feedback with often deleterious results to the user. Channeling spells using the potent magic suffused into a being’s lifeblood was the most prominent illustration of negative feedback, with all the known and infamous casters spiraling into the precarious depths of insanity.
My eyes widened as I came upon a chapter detailing ‘Runes of the mind’s eye’, I frantically flipped the page and devoured the chapter’s contents in record time. What I read within cleared up a lot of questions I had been asking myself about my arcane ability. While it was true that a Stellar Mage need only give purpose to a spell and have the magical reserves necessary to meet the spell’s inherent energy demand, there was ‘sequencing’ involved before the spell was unleashed. The next few pages listed a series of symbols that corresponded to an intended action. The recording of these symbols was a tricky business, since the faithful replication of what one sees in their mind’s eye is a touch and go business. The origins behind these images were unknown, but were theorized as being nature’s way of giving structure to a spell in order to achieve the intended result. Some of the symbols were uncomplicated and made sense. For example, a trio of wavy lines depicted the one relating to water, while a near identical one going upwards portrayed levitation. Others were more difficult to make out, like the pictogram for transmogrification and it’s reversal, which looked closer to complex kanji drawn together than anything else (The reverse spell was aptly a mirror to the prime rune). Simple spells only saw one or two of these runes in their casting, while intricate ones had well over that number in huge and convoluted combinations.
The book didn’t convey the full manifold range of spells that could be cast but provided an ample itemized index. Among the most intriguing spells that stood out were animation of inanimate objects, alarm charm, augmentation of the five inborn senses (albeit nothing that could parallel what the Valkyrian’s innately had), basic and multi-article telekinesis, bone setting, burn mitigation (‘Damn, should’ve read up on this one sooner’), calligraphy interpretation, color warping, cure insomnia (aka knockout spell), cryokinesis, dry wet clothes, dusting, energy blasts, energy beams, energy detonation, echolocation, elemental transmutation, failsafe spell (warning, not a guaranteed result), gravity manipulation, invisibility (this one had three disparate symbols denoting it, probably due to the many ways one can be perceived as invisible), illumination, illusion, magnetic manipulation, memory transfer, open canned food (I had to do a double take to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me), projection of force fields (the symbol for this one had an aperture in the middle where another mind rune would go, therefore reinforcing the field against whatever was being used against it), pheromone imitation, portal generation (this one had a lot of prerequisites before it could activate), pyrokinesis, spatial displacement (otherwise known as teleportation), telepathy (see consensual magic for clarification), time travel (only successfully done by Starswirl the Bearded, and the representing rune was under lock and key), and the page concluded with water breathing (Which would have been useful if I felt like impersonating a merman).
While all those spells were very interesting, what made what I did on an everyday basis strenuous for the average mage was not only the power requirement of any given spell in question, but also the fact that these mind runes had to be upheld just right at the moment of casting. It didn’t go into much specific detail as to how difficult it was for a normal spell caster to do this, but it was conveyed coherently that this was something that took years to get consistently right. So it wasn’t as if anyone could sling around a diverse number of spells willy nilly. There was a loophole of sorts, however, dealing with those mages sporting a Mana mark corresponding to one or more talents covered by the symbols in the chart. They had a notable proclivity such that those characters were essentially memorized by heart, which meant that they specialized in that brand of magic and could readily call upon them and outperform a non-specialized mage in most aspects.
Those who won the figurative Mana mark lottery like Twilight took to all permutations of magic with precocious ease, though the chances of a Stellar Mage earning such a generalized mark was a one in many thousand shot. A sedulous mage would rely on objects to help them cast spells faster and with less of a delay between castings. My Tantō was one such object, though I knew not how it helped me accomplish these feats. There was a special mention at the bottom of a page concerning how Trifects were able to curiously harmonize these intrinsic runes with an adeptness that seemed second nature. I could safely say from personal experience that it wasn’t far from the truth. Hell, I was so effortlessly formidable that I was coming up with spells on the fly, basing them according to my most pressing needs. I was by no means griping about this, but I now had a newfound respect for those mages who believed in both themselves and their magic prowess that they would apportion their time to honing their aptitude.
I was so absorbed in the book that I almost missed the tapping report of knuckles meeting wood. Slamming the book closed and setting it aside, I shook myself of my ponderings and rose to attend to the door. Opening it, I was greeted by a familiar mailwoman with a fat envelope in one hand, and a crumbling, half eaten bran muffin in the other. At her side was a large leather satchel with an unhooked clasp that exposed a middling amount of mail to my searching eyes, suggesting that she was just about done with her duties. As per usual, she had one golden eye trained on me, and the other observing something the sky.
“Ditzy!” I exclaimed with a cheerful intonation, expertly feigning delight in seeing someone (I blame it on my frequent ‘I want to be left alone’ moods), “How pleasant it is to see you again” I dispensed with the niceties.
She attempted to give me a slipshod salute when she promptly remembered that she was holding a muffin and withdrew the gesture midway, “Hello, fancily dressed Zenith! Fancy seeing you as well! I’ve just reached one of the last stops here on my afternoon rounds. It’s been a really productive day for me!” She chirped happily, before showing me the envelope in her charge, “This just came in from the Capital, specifically instructed to be delivered to this library. Is Twilight in? There’s a rule stating that the official caretaker of the residence is supposed to take delivery of any and all mail” She stipulated, likely quoting a passage from a courier’s guide book.
I gave her a stiff nod, “She is. But she’s currently locked herself in the basement and can’t come out” I said with minor sarcasm and a rolling of my eyes.
“Oh my goodness gracious!” She gasped, the real meaning sailing clear over her pretty little head, “I accidentally lock myself in the rooms of my own house all the time! Take me to her. I can teach her how to pick the lock with a bobby pin in case it happens to her again” She entreated of me.
‘I wasn’t expecting that, but am sadly not surprised to hear it’ It was actually quite charming how willing the blonde mailwoman was to help out someone that she perceived was in need.
“No, no!” I hastily corrected her before she could cross the threshold, “Twilight’s just doing science. She does not want to be interrupted either. It’s practically the same thing as self incarceration whenever she’s concerned. I’m technically appointed as the acting librarian in her stead” I tenuously explained to her, stretching the truth ever so slightly. I was just using that as an excuse to blow off speaking to Twilight while she was in her irksome ‘scientist mindset’.
It wasn’t a terribly busy job watching over the rather unnervingly quiet library in all honesty. It also allowed for me to pass the week by without risking getting recognized by most of the female population as a temporarily famous male model (‘I wonder what they did to my body double after they cornered him? I almost felt sorry for the gullible fool’). There were an appallingly paltry number of people who came in just to skim the titles, let alone check them out of the building. It was the subject of much aggravation that the nerdy woman saw fit to bless me with the other day. I could sympathize with her objectively. I know that I would feel pretty unappreciated if the candy barbeque idea I came up with hadn’t gone over as well as it did. I personally would have kept these well founded complaints to myself, but I could acknowledge the fact that there were exceedingly few people in this land who were even remotely like me.
“Huh…” She dully vocalized, “Well in that case, I’m not acting out of my bounds by giving it to you” She handed it to me, which I graciously took.
“Hey listen” She said in a less businesslike tone, “I wanted to thank you again for those inspiring words of yours to me when we first met. They’ve really helped me realize that I was wrong to listen to and be discouraged by other people’s doubts about myself and my competence at my job. In fact, my manager Post Haste has noticed a huge increase in my already considerable efficiency since then!” She spouted with vigor.
I smiled, a little less artificially this time, “I’m glad to hear that. No one should ostracize somebody else just because they deviate from some overrated norm” I philosophized with some disdain evident in my tone. How dare anyone treat such a sweet, hardworking woman like her with contempt for something that she has no control over!
“You’re too nice! And that reminds me that I’ve wanted to show my thanks in a more solid form…” She rummaged around in her satchel and pulled out a brown paper bag and offered it to me, “…I baked you a muffin! I made a fresh batch of them this morning. It’s plain… in case you had allergies to fruit bits, or something” She concluded thoughtfully.
“Thanks…” I said, gingerly taking it, “But how did you know to bring one for me here? No one besides two or three people even saw me in the library yesterday, and I’m not residing here in the strictest sense” I expressed with slight confusion. How could she have known? Unless…
“Well I always carry around a cache of muffins! Three for my lunch break and a crisp spare… in case I ran into you again on my routine runs” She answered me. But that would mean that she lugged around an extra one for when she next interacted with me.
‘Heurk! Too many warm fuzzies at once!’ My face twitched a couple times, but otherwise I was okay on emotional lockdown mode. It was mildly alarming to me that I’ve had to engage it with rising regularity the longer I linger here.
This wacky world must be getting to me.
“You didn’t have to do that for me Ditzy” I uttered, after recovering from a serious case of the feels.
She laid a steepled hand against her collarbone and struck a pose, “It was my sincerest pleasure as a neighborhood postal worker and as a friend. Now if you’ll pardon me, duty calls in the northern end of town” She fanned her wings open and rocketed skywards… before heading on an incorrect bearing that pointed towards the Neverfree.
“Uhh… Ditzy!? North is in the other direction!” I called after her. She somehow heard me over the shrillness of the wind rushing past her ears and heeded my advice, sending me a gracious salutation in passing and continuing on her way.
I scoffed in silent amusement to myself and shut the door at my heels with my magic. I walked back to my little nook with my cargo in tow and tossed the hefty envelope onto the desk before appraising the paper bag containing the muffin that Ditzy baked for me. I don’t know what possessed me to give it a cautionary sniff, but I did, and it had a genuinely enticing aroma that caused my stomach gurgle in anticipation.
I discreetly scanned my surroundings as if the bookworm was just lurking around the corner. Twilight had a stern rule about no eating in the main chamber of the library, and she would raise hell if she even suspected that mischief was afoot. But she wasn’t here to observe me breaking that rule, and I was too lazy to bother bringing my reading into the kitchen where the lighting wasn’t as bright, so I unfolded the bag and out fell a plump looking brown muffin that was almost too picturesque to be eaten. After a delicious first bite, I horked the rest of it down in record time and groaned in a sensation of repletion. I had to hand it to Derpy. She unquestionably knew what made even a plain bran muffin taste incredible. I cleaned up the crumbling grains to ensure that no evidence of my transgression was left behind.
Satisfied with my thorough cleanup. I turned my attention to the envelope sitting on the desk and examined it. It looked just like a standard manila envelope from back home, with the small exception that it was sealed using candlewax, and with a curious stamp on it of a bird perched atop a pyramid of scrolls that I assumed to be that of the archives. I broke the seal using the razor sharp tip of my Tantō as a makeshift letter opener and poured out its musty and aged contents for my scrutinizing enjoyment. I was a little confused as to why they were so weathered looking for copies. Perhaps these documents were so ancient that even their copies could be passed off as antiques.
With that in mind, I handled the fragile manuscripts with care and unfurled the closest scroll in order to digest the lore of an age long since passed. The documents were a medley of first and second hand accounts in their totality, most stemming from chroniclers and scribes who penned down any and all observations about important goings on and characters for the sake of posterity. A majority was written in an obsolete form of cursive that was hard to make out, but what I discovered within the faded papers was worth the wait.
Azure Phoenix was once a Stellar Mage in his original incarnation, serving in the high court of Stellaria as one of Platinum’s courtier advisors and as a member of the lesser nobility. He was remembered as a controversial figure that was one of the outspoken few that actually advocated joining with the other clans, much to the disapproval and disgust of his fellow court members. Only, he did so with the underlying reasoning that they needed to combine their strengths with that of the other clans if they were to combat the Windigo (I noted offhand that there existed spelling variations of Windigos and Windigoes, much like the theater-theatre disparity) menace that ravaged the lands in a constant and withering state of permanent winter. The other rare proponents of unification did so with less violent ends in mind, wanting to found a new home far beyond their frosted borders. The young and headstrong mage studied under the legendary Starswirl for a time, though it was said that he only really took what he wanted to know from the combative school of magic. Even so, he was not quite talented enough to be completely taken under his wing, that honor went to Clover the Clever (Whose wry wit was thought to be one of the reasons for earning Starswirl’s exclusive mentorship).
Speaking of the wizened wizard, Starswirl himself took an extended leave of absence many months prior to Phoenix’s exile from Platinum’s good graces and left what he considered to be the “Sanctimonious hypocrisy of Stellaria” in the rearview. He didn’t say much about where he was going, but hinted that he sought out the ‘prophesized siblings’ that were foretold to unite all his brethren, ignoring the predominant clan lines, under a just and harmonious banner where all would flourish and live in unanimity.
I briefly perked my head up from my perusal. Gee, I wondered who the prophesized siblings could have been? Did one of them have an endearing love of cake? And did the other exhibit a habit for popping up in my dreams before I even finished their housekeeping? The probabilities were infinite. I supposed that it would have to remain a mystery to be reflected on for later revelations on the character of the prophesized siblings.
After a furious yet fateful tirade in the throne chambers of the Princess, (who for all intents and purposes was the prime ruler during this period. This was so as her parents, the King and Queen, took ill from the dreaded cold of winter and were too bedridden to rule anything) Azure Phoenix was dismissed from the castle until further notice (which was a roundabout way of saying permanently in those days) and he stormed out of her presence in a rage. The document that was in my hands made no mention about anything disappearing from the Princess’s belongings, but a footnote in a second hand account confirmed what Phoenix told me and lent some credence to his claim. Although heretofore I was mostly convinced that he was who he said he was, or at the very least a plausible liar.
I had to sift through the papers for one that would chronologically align to Azure’s story but I eventually found what I was looking for. This particular chronicle was written by someone named Glinting Sand, (ironic, since he had known only snow by the time of that paper’s printing) whose biography listed him as an average Agrarian living in the aptly renamed Snowed-in Village. What made this seemingly insignificant village stand out from all the others was that in this community the three clan types scratched out a living together in a rough collaboration. It was an unprecedented precursor to Arcania’s full on cooperation between the clans that exists today. I’d even go as far as designating it as a proto-Magiville, where peoples from each clan could be found, only with less friendliness all around. There weren’t enough of them to catch the attention of the higher ups and they were only barely able to make ends meet, but it was this quality that earned them a place in the histories, even if it was a side story in import.
Azure had arrived in town one day with his ‘disciples’, which only consisted of attendants and servants that he pretty much press-ganged into following him. He swiftly earned himself a position as one of the town’s leaders after he fended off an assault by an incensed Windigo whose manipulation over the weather surrounding the village was weakened by the merely mutual dislike harbored there, instead of the hatred that was dominant throughout the land. It tried again a second time and was slain for its efforts by a ‘blinding finger of flame’ that must have been the mana eating fire that Phoenix came up with. That was when Phoenix’s popularity decidedly began to gain momentum among the town’s residents.
Azure understood and legitimately believed in the concept of synergy, and implemented it to tremendous effect. He used his newly developed spells to melt the snows enveloping the town and freeing up the trapped soils that were critical to the Agrarian’s farming. He taught the other Stellar Mages to cast flames the way he did by calling upon their righteous internal anger to rain down hell on those that would threaten the safety of their families. He persuaded the obstinate Valkyrians to act as forward scouts and sentries that would alert everyone else if danger of any variety was approaching. With this in mind, he established the town’s guard in follow up and supplemented it with all three clan types so that each one complemented the other. His magnetizing charisma and forward thinking made him a upstanding figure for the villagers to follow, who adored him as if he were a member of their own family. And for a time, the Snowed-in Village knew a phase of peace and relative plenty.
I had to exchange papers for the succeeding sheet in the series to see what came next. But I had a strong inkling of an idea as to what came afterwards, if what Phoenix boasted to me held any kernel of truth.
I formulated my cynical presumptions much too soon. Apparently the man who tried to kill me in that forest was then enveloped in some kind of conspiracy involving the three powers. The steadily starving clans gazed upon the fertile soils of the village with hungering need in their eyes and rapacity in their minds. They each separately sent representatives to bargain for the tenable farmland of the village. The mouthpieces of each clan used any tools at their disposal, offering wealth, the status of protectorate, or subtle threats to turn it over to their government. The specific details were scant, but Phoenix managed to bluff them away, saying that he would see the rows of wheat razed to the ground rather than concede them to those who didn’t earn it through the sweat of their brow. He especially hated the persistence and silver tongues of the Stellarian negotiators, many of whom he recognized from his court days and angrily swore that he would send them home in a box if they didn’t leave the town that was under his protection alone.
Obviously, once diplomacy failed, each of the three puissant powers tried using force of arms to gain control of the golden fields of the town. But foreseeing this, Azure strategically maneuvered himself ahead of time by having the majority of the growing fields sown in what was essentially an open no man’s land bare of any slopes or inclines. So when the forces dispatched from the three powers converged, they saw each other in full view and the hatred in their hearts boiled over. The ‘Massacre of the fields’ as it infamously came to be known, was a most bloody example of what happens when harmony fails and swords are clutched in a white knuckle grip. The three detachments slaughtered each other until each was forced to withdraw, and while the fields were unfortunately sacrificed in the process, the three powers never again attempted to snatch Snowed-in’s assets. Fields could be re-sown, but lives weren’t as easily replaced. The rebuffed three clans learned that the costly way.
I took a break from my reading and leaned back in the stiff wooden chair. So far I was at a loss as for what to make of Phoenix’s character. The man I was learning about seemed like someone I could almost cheer for, if he hadn’t tried to burn me to death just a day or so prior. He fought the system when he knew that it was making a glaring mistake and set out to make his own way when he realized that they wouldn’t listen to him. He wasn’t the nicest guy out there by any means, but he had honorable intentions and was cunning enough to thwart his enemies’ plans. The innovation of magic rooted in his inner fire was impressive as well. He seemed to have no reservations about using force to get things done, but I saw no signs indicating that he was vengeful in his original life. Perhaps once he was an upright man, but that was not who I dueled with in the ruined deep of the castle. Time was not kind, indeed, principally so to the wretched users of blood magic.
With my reformed perspective of Phoenix factored into my judgment, I resumed reading.
Having won a great political victory over his opponents, Azure wasted no time in solidifying his unofficial title as the Guardian and decision maker of his little kingdom. With his authority secured, Azure engaged additional measures to seal off his village from intruders. The details once again glazed over just how he specifically managed to accomplish this, but Snowed-in virtually disappeared from the maps. Years passed, which then turned into decades. While their brethren were immigrating to a “Promised land, flowing with milk and honey”, (Those were the exact words. Cue the double take) the inhabitants of the growing town stayed behind where they felt both cozy and at home. Azure grew bored of micro managing his hard fought home and often ‘went out’ to cure his restlessness, usually by hunting down Windigoes and burning them into oblivion. Even if Azure Phoenix made good on his bold claim of destroying the Windigo spirits, it did nothing to lift the icy veil that had descended on the old country. There was simply too much residual hatred left over from the three clans for it to revert back to the way things once were.
Like all mortals, no matter their monumental achievements, Azure Phoenix advanced in age and grew feeble, even though the fire in his core burned as bright as ever. His mind remained sharp despite this impairment, and he devised and rejected dozens of ways to stave off the inevitable grip of mortality. Finally he… reluctantly (‘Huh?’) brought his concerns to his townsfolk. The contented people who lived under his protective and just hand, saw the fear in their fearless leader’s eyes. The grateful citizens of Snowed-in took heart and offered to do whatever they could to aid him, as it was the very least they could do for all the things that he did for them as a public servant. Phoenix informed them about one method he could employ to live on and protect the weak, but it would require a sacrifice that might have long lasting consequences for his adopted kinsmen.
At that point I skipped ahead, it’s not like this wasn’t anything new to me. It was another decade or so before the villagers could tell if the ritual was successful, since Phoenix’s body succumbed shortly afterwards. Sure enough though, an Agrarian couple’s son returned home from playing outside one day behaving radically different. He no longer answered to the name Dust Rush, but referred to himself as Azure Phoenix, the man they owed their allegiance to. His parents thought he was joking at first, but even if it was an elaborate hoax, their son wasn’t acting like his usual self. The newly reborn Phoenix didn’t stick around to prove his identity to his newly acquired ‘parents’, mostly dedicating his time to casting his special fire magic without having to rely on a channeling focal gem like he had for his previous lifetime.
While he had cheated death (at another being’s expense), Azure wasn’t quite the same person coming out as he was going into the ritual. He retained most of his past memories, but had no tangible connection to them, and therefore no reason to stay and defend Snowed-in like he said he would. He stopped living according to the needs of others, and started living for himself. The one thing that did stay constant, however, was his desire to see justice done and mete out punishment where he considered it deserved. Azure abandoned Snowed-in once his body came of age, forsaking his kinsfolk and traveling alone towards the recently founded Arcania for reasons only known to him.
Without his guiding influence, Snowed-in became a ghost town as more and more of its denizens made the move to the warmer and united lands that I find myself in today. But a sinister shadow from their prior town life followed them wherever they went. Every generation or so, male members of their family would either come home with a foreign glint in their eyes or not come home at all. Azure Phoenix’s price of protection took its toll interminably onwards.
‘Up till recently that is’ I amended mentally.
The sound of the basement door opening and a woman emerging from the stairwell humming to a tune scarily similar to ‘If I only had a brain’ demanded my immediate attention. I glanced out the window and was made aware that the sun would be setting soon. Sorting through all of those documents ate up extra time than I initially anticipated.
Twilight covered her maw to suppress a yawn, “Phew! Science might be fulfilling, but sometimes it’s a little tiring. Still, Zecora’s reagents worked like a charm! Well… not exactly like a charm, it’s more of a figurative expression. It’s a pity though that I couldn’t initiate the electrolysis of the resultant solutions into their separate components” She wasn’t facing me, occupied as she was with putting away some of her handheld lab equipment in a shelved closet where the brooms and feather dusters were kept.
‘It’s getting awfully nerdy in here’ Mayhap I should open a window.
“Are you… talking to me? Or yourself?” I vocalized to her, inserting the papers back into the envelope and leaving it on the desk for her to see.
She shut the closet door and twisted about to face me, “Why, you of course! Who in the world would speak to themselves when they could think? Anyhow…” She trailed off, narrowing her eyes at me for some reason, “Why are there food crumbs on your collar, Zenith?” She asked in a harsh voice, with plentiful undertones of anger.
“Oh, I had a muffin earlier” I truthfully answered, quickly fabricating a realistic backup excuse.
“And where did you eat it?” She demanded to know, seconds away from grinding her teeth together.
“Within the kitchen’s vicinity of course!” I ambiguously answered, “These offending crumbs are a result of me forgetting to clean myself off”
That’s right, I was portraying myself as a bit of a slob to a low level neat freak in order to exculpate myself. Shame is for squares.
I received a deadpan stare worthy of a fellow snarker, “Uh huh… and I suppose you forgot to throw out the paper bag too?” She said, pointing to the equally messy piece of evidence sitting on the nook desk and not in the rubbish bin.
My shoulders hitched until they were even with my earlobes, “What can I say? I’m forgetful about these things” Was my lackadaisical response.
She dragged a palm against her face, “Ugh… just… don’t let me catch you with foodstuffs on your person outside of the kitchen again” She tetchily commanded, “I’d rather this place not have to be warded against ants”
“Gotcha loud and clear!” I saluted with two fingers, “So what were you going to tell me before our conversation veered off on that tangent?”
“I was going to apprise you that Applejack and Pinkie Pie were joining us for night sky watching up on Stargazer’s Hill”
The name rung a bell, “Consider me apprised! Mind if I set up a bonfire for us on the side? I haven’t done anything camping related in forever” That was one of the reasons anyway. I had one last order of business that needed to be crossed off my imaginary checklist before I could call it a day.
Her eyes flicked side to side as she gave the unusual proposition some thought, “Err… sure? Just don’t make it too big. Any excess light given off by it could interfere with our view of the sky, which would be counterproductive to the overall intent of our outing. I also deem it prudent to tell you that it will only be us four, since I won’t permit an extension on Spike’s bedtime when he already has the bulk of his duties taken over by you” She helpfully pontificated, reminding me that I was her indentured servant for the week in all but title. Twilight might not be a slave driver, but she was real finicky about adhering to her prearranged timetables.
I held up my hands in a diplomatic gesture, “Relax. I’m not going to ignite an inferno, Twilight. At what precise time does this sky watching occur?”
“As soon as the Sun sets and Luna’s Moon nears its apex” She explained, “Why do you need to know?”
“So I can run an errand or two before I meet you there… and so I can change. I’ve been wearing these robes for well over a day now!” I exclaimed indignantly. My clothes still smelled of char and the great outdoors. It’s done wonders for my sinuses.
With that said, I painstakingly returned home to dispose of my accoutrements and avail myself of my expanded and stocked wardrobe (How did they know my measurements?). I selected informal wear of blue jeans and a red woolen sweater before folding up my worn outfit so I could bring it to Rarity the next I saw of her (Which was to be any of the following nights right after the sleepover scheduled for this Sunday that was convenient for me, if the reply note I got back from Spike was any clue. It’s probably for the best that Spikey Wikey wasn’t nosy enough to read it himself, or there would be undue tension between us from jealousy, and I never liked facing up to conflict that I couldn’t merely sidestep out of the way of). Wrapping that up, I strapped my guitar to my back and slid a special item into a spare satchel to carry with me before heading out again. Furthermore, I made a couple purchases at the stores in town before they closed shop for the day.
I had memorized the overall layout of Magiville and the surrounding landmarks through a mixture of familiarity from living here and from memorizing a cartographer’s map yesterday during the lull between Spike’s repetitive library duties. Stargazer’s Hill was a taller than average prominence outside of the built up portions of town and was located somewhere in-between the expanse separating Sweet Apple Acres and Fluttershy’s cottage. It earned its name for reasons that should be evident enough. Yet, I’ve never been able to partake of the location myself, so I couldn’t judge the importance of its position with my own understanding. But if I had to guess, it was likely popular insofar that it was unaffected by the obscuring light pollution that sufficiently populated settlements were known for.
I arrived ahead of time with my recently bought supplies in hand and began setting up a ring of stones to contain tonight’s bonfire. Sure a patch of healthy and verdant grass had to be immolated for the site to be constructed, but as a benefit, it could be used and reused ad infinitum. I used logs doused with a tiny sprinkle of ignition fluid in lieu of kindling because I didn’t feel like going cheap on this one. Rifling through the contents of my satchel, I pulled out the stone-back book (‘Talk about hard cover’) whose process of retrieval well nigh gave me a heart attack and tore the pages away from the tableted binding one at a time, savoring each ripping noise with a eerie sense of satisfaction. After burying the tablet component of the book's binding, I wedged the pages into each of the cracks between the logs and stood back to admire my handiwork. I was no great outdoorsman by any definition, but the sight in front of me could pass itself off as reasonable imitation of a campfire. The only thing that remained was to light it up.
I was going to just use a standard spell and squeeze a spark onto the flammable material, but was reminded of the intense fire that Phoenix could summon by fueling his with righteous anger. Come to think of it, his technique was remarkable similar to when I experimented with imbuing emotion into my spells back in Concordia, and that achieved some pretty potent results. Albeit turbulent emotions made for unstable and uneconomical casting, mana wise. Shunting raw emotion into magic is always a risky business; any sudden fluctuations in your mood and the spell could short circuit, or worse… backfire. This didn’t stop memories that I didn’t particularly care for, and which roused me to anger, from automatically pouring forth from my subconscious mind and accidentally activating the enkindling spell that I prepped in advance.
A blazing surge not unlike the funneled kind that streams out of a jet’s engine discharged from the palms my hands and onto the wooden fuel, fulminantly triggering combustion and causing me to recoil backwards onto the earth. My potentially embarrassing pratfall aside… the result of my spell work was quite a spectacle, once the torrent of flame settled down into an off putting color that normal campfires did not take after. The crackling coming from the fire was also odd, almost reminiscent of morose whispers steeped in cafard. Those died down after a minute however, while the illumination remained a creepy combination of hues that would have made for a spine tingling Halloween ambiance. The moment my heart rate stabilized itself, I removed my other camping goodies from my satchel and set them up appropriately. I snugly basked in the otherwise soothing warmth and reveled in my introverted aloneness.
It was a feeling that was not meant to last, sadly. I soon caught wind of the rhythmic footfalls of Twilight and her Agrarian friends cresting the hill, drawn to my campfire like moths to a fiery beacon.
I waved to them as they came near, “Twilight. Applejack. Pinkie Pie” I addressed them individually, and each mirrored it in their own amiable way. They formed a secondary ring around the campfire and stared at it with varying looks of bemusement on their faces.
“Err… did somethin’ go wrong here? Cuz that there fire jus’ don’t look natural” Applejack commented aloud about the greenish yellow glow bathing us. She freed her Stetson from her head as she sat down, placing it over her protruding knee as a substitute hat rack.
“Yeah! It’s all spooky and sinister looking! Are we telling each other ghost stories already!?” Pinkie piped in energetically as she plopped herself by the fire with a slight bounce. I was tempted to give into my impulsive urge to use the quote ‘Baby got back’, but restrained myself, finding the reference to be in poor taste.
I ignored the party girl in favor of the flaxen haired cowgirl, “What do you think is fueling that fire?” Was my rhetorical question to the humble fruit farmer.
Her forehead scrunched in on itself, reckoning over whether or not it was a trick question, “Uhh… wood, I assume?”
I shook my head, “You assume partially incorrect then” From the horrified look on Twilight’s countenance, I could deduce that she pieced it together, “Why don’t you enlighten them for me, Twilight?” I cheekily suggested to her.
“T-t-the b-book… the f-forbidden one t-that I w-wanted to r-read” Her voice became weak as her eyes moistened and she sandwiched her head between her legs.
“Don’t feel too depressed Twilight” I told her reassuringly, before reaching into the fringes of the campfire and pulling out a straightened coat hanger wire with a toasted marshmallow of a golden luster speared on the end of it. I blew on it in case it was still hot and had a tentative nibble taken from the top. I hummed positively and then wolfed down the rest of it. It was undoubtedly one of the better marshmallows I’ve ever sampled.
I tapped her on the thigh and offered a second one to her, “Turns out that books filled with evil incantations can additionally make campfire comestibles taste delectable!" I advertised to the disheartened woman. Even though I was acting waggish about it, I felt the teensiest smidgen of guilt for literally sending her hopes of reading the tablet book up in smoke.
She accepted the thin rod with a wobbling hand and bit into the spongy confection. Chewing thoughtfully for a moment, she swallowed, “I… can taste the magic in the texture. Should we really be eating this?” She hesitantly gandered at me in inquiry. Food tainted with magic didn’t exactly enhance its palatability factor. Magical food poisoning didn’t sound like a pleasant experience either.
But I was largely unconcerned for the most part, “I will let you know if I become explosively ill from using enchanted book pages as tinder for the purposes of marshmallow roasting” I mentioned with a carefree bearing, counting on my mellowness to banish her fears somewhere they couldn’t cut into the relaxed atmosphere of the campfire. A trifect’s constitution was practically hammered out of durasteel. Even so, I did prompt myself to remember that I shouldn’t be using that as an excuse to test the limits of that metabolism.
“Can’t be nearly as unhealthy as the time I tried some of Applejack’s baked bads! I was certain that I actually tinted green at one point! It wasn’t much of an enviable situation though!” Pinkie exclaimed with a giggle as she grabbed a stack of toasted marshmallows of her own and messily chowed down with no observance of decorum whatsoever.
Applejack attempted to hide a grimace at the memory (or Pinkie’s atrocious pun) that portrayed her in an unflattering light, but without her trusty hat to shield her expression, she was easier to read than most of the sperglord’s child learning books. I proffered a marshmallow to her with an outstretched arm to put her at ease, but the country girl politely declined, impelling me to enjoy it in her stead. With my right cheek puffed in expansion from my prolonged savoring of the melted treat, I took my instrument out and began casually playing the Engineer’s theme song, which I felt apposite for the ongoing occasion. Minus the noticeable lack of sentry guns, being shot at, and briefcases stuffed with enemy intelligence anyways.
No more words were exchanged as we gazed upon the twinkling stars as each one unveiled itself. It was then and there that I realized that the unadulterated canvas of brilliance above me was truly a marvel to behold. The night sky over Concordia was beautiful, but here on Stargazer’s Hill it was absolutely breathtaking. I couldn’t even recall the last time I saw that many shooting stars dart along my vision. The others (even Twilight) quietly wished upon them, which I found charmingly rustic, but also a tad superstitious.
Undulating multicolored ribbons of aurora danced along the sky and bedazzled us. After an interval of admiring the empyrean ceiling, Twilight started pointing out specific constellations, unintentionally lecturing the rest of us about how some were named after valiant heroes from olden times, or after the tools and weapons that rendered them as legends. I’ll readily admit that I was never terribly proficient with astronomy, but it was worrisome that none of them were names or shapes that I could recognize right off the bat. Even Orion’s distinctive belt was nowhere to be found above, which evoked a melancholic sentiment in me. My face betrayed nothing as per usual, but anyone who looked me in the eyes could figure out that I felt mildly homesick.
I heard the blades of grass next to me shift as Applejack scoot over to me, “Hey sugarcube. What’s wrong? Yer givin’ off an aura bluer than the fuzz on those pancakes that I found lyin’ forgotten under Apple Bloom’s bed yesterday” She analogized in an effort to break the ice. I didn’t even want to know what breed of mold the adorable girl with the red bow tie in her hair was unwittingly cultivating.
I idly plucked at my guitar, not focusing on any one exact song, “Forgive me for asking this, but do you find yourself missing your parents at times?” I posed the question gingerly, not wanting to cross a sensitive line with the woman.
“Shucks, ya don’t hafta apologize for askin’ that!” She pardoned me with an unexpected chuckle, “A’course I miss ‘em! But I also know deep in ma’ soul that they’re watchin’ over me and mah family” She echoed the words that Annabelle said to me.
“And what if you were told that the chances of ever seeing them again were just about nil?” I disclosed in a low voice, twanging at the strings of my guitar with an imperceptible increase in volume.
Twilight was distracted with educating Pinkie (who was actually sitting still and paying attention in a manner that was most unlike her usual bouncy self) on some subject probably related to our stargazing. Why I was about to give the Element of Honesty off all people a sneak peek into my origins was beyond me. But this… inexplicable urge to talk to her about this superseded my desire for delayed secrecy.
Her peaceful expression evaporated, “Land sakes…” She began, unsure of how to process that, “…I don’t know what ah’d do if I could never see mah ma and pa again” She eyeballed me sternly, “Why do ya ask me this? You separated from yer parents or somethin’?” She broached a sensitive issue.
“Look at the stars, Applejack” She stared at me funny before she complied, simultaneously stealing sidelong glances at me, “Count them. How many of those pinpricks of luminosity do you think there are?” I queried of her.
She scratched at her unladen head as she worked it out, “Uhh… maybe a few thousan’ or so?” She eventually guessed after a minute.
‘I knew she wasn’t a fan of math, but that was kind of pathetic’
I briskly shook my head, “Disregarding how far off the mark that estimate is, let’s say for a moment that you were correct. If each of those stars counted as a mile, how many of them do you surmise would represent how great of a distance removed from home you reckon I am?”
“Ah’m gonna take a wild guess and say… all of ‘em?” Was her lackluster reply. Man, she wasn’t even trying anymore!
“Then you must forgive me when I reveal to you that it was a trick question. The answer in all likelihood transcends the very concept of distance” I explicated in a short but difficult to decipher style of speech.
She appeared hopelessly lost, “M’fraid I don’ follow yer fancy train of logic there, Zenith”
“Suffice it to say, the two people responsible for bringing me into the world… aren’t even a part of this one” I let her mull that over for a while.
“Okay, enuff of that hogwash ambiguity!” She whispered shrilly, “Either say what ya mean, or don’ say nothin’ at all!” She issued her ultimatum, evident by the folding of her arms and a stink eye leveled at me. Why did the women here use the same body language so frequently?
I sighed, tolerating her rational impatience, “Let’s just say that I won’t be seeing my parents in the flesh any more than you or your siblings will with yours”
She didn’t accept this, “But jus’ what are you sayin’? That they’re in the grave? Same as mine?”
I was taken aback by the morbid thought, “Heaven forbid! They’re very much alive and well, I should hope! It’s just that they live beyond the metaphorical cosmic veil on a world quite like this one, and at the same time, radically different from it in so many aspects” It had considerably less fantastical things, to begin with.
She goggled at me like I had grown a second nose, “Yer a strange one, Zenith. That’s fer sure” She slowly remarked, “But if that’s true, then why arn’tcha doin’ everythin’ ya can ta get back to ‘em?”
I scoffed incredulously, “You and your bullheaded straightforwardness, Applejack. It’s just not that simple” I spoke in a way that warned her to drop it.
She didn’t take too kindly to being called ‘bullheaded’ and pressed onward, “An’ why not? What’s stoppin’ ya?” She challenged, unaware of how absurd the odds against me going home were.
I tilted my head to the side sarcastically as I ceased strumming Octavia’s gift to me, “Oh… I don’t know… maybe the fact that no known magic exists that can bridge the gap between worlds, or maybe how I was possibly summoned here with the express purpose of preventing countless lives from being snuffed out, or perhaps God is just screwing with me and I’m the derriere of some sick joke!” I snidely listed off to the apple farmer, losing my cool.
She slapped me across the face… hard. On account of her being Agrarian (and an incredibly toned one at that), it hurt like the dickens, “Don’t you dare take yer creator’s name in vain! Whatever superlative reason that brought ya to us, it was a damn good one! Ya hear me? So quit yer bellyaching and man up!” She hissed at me like a diamondback, our chatting company still oblivious to the tension going on behind them. There was a spark of outrage in her normally gentle, emerald green eyes that I’d never seen before. Even though it was night, that little rant of hers was as effective as any wake up call.
To my credit, I didn’t rub at the stinging sore spot like a wussy, “You’re right, Applejack. That was disrespectful, and most unbecoming of me” I turned away from her in genuine shame. I shouldn’t have slipped like that. There was a reason why I refused to let my emotions get the better of me.
“Zenith…” Her voice softened perceptibly, “I don’t rightly know what kinda burden yer shoulderin’… but ya can’t become bitter. Take it from someone who knows where that road leads” She exhorted of me.
“I sense that there’s a story behind those words” I observed. Whether or not she imparted it to me was her prerogative.
“Sure is. Have I ever told you the story of how I obtained mah Mana mark?” She asked first, to which I responded in the negative.
It wasn’t necessarily lying that I knew in advance how those apples manifested on her hands. While I got the basic gist of it, Applejack herself never narrated to me of the tale. Heck, I sort of feel like a jerk for not asking a single instance during the time I toiled next to her for an arduous, laborious week at the Acres. But in my defense, she cracked the figurative whip hard enough that I had to utilize any free time she permitted me in order to recuperate.
She inhaled deeply before speaking, “I wasn’t always the eager farm gal that you see before ya now. When I was a girl, not much older than Apple bloom is now, bless her young heart, I dreamed of participatin’ in the sophisticated life that people led up in the city of Steelhatten”
Even though I had foreknowledge of this, hearing it from her lips still elicited a snort from me, “You? Living the high life of a city socialite? That’s a funny picture”
She thwacked her knee against mine in retaliation, “Granny’s got a photo album somewhere provin’ what I say, if ya won’t take mah honest word for it” She countered with a smirk, “Now where was I? Oh right, yearnin’ for the Big Apple, instead of the countless and borin’ regular sized apples growin’ just outside mah bedroom window”
‘There are some uncanny similarities shared between our worlds’ I noted, with the informal name of the city tickling at my imagination.
“I took mah concerns to mah Granny, who had a wise glint in her eye that I was too young and foolish to think anythin’ of back then. She arranged for me ta stay with mah aunt and uncle Orange and sent me off with whatever I could haul with me on mah back” She said, mimicking the motion of swinging a bindle staff onto her shoulder.
“Sounds like it was an adventure” I stated, having a fondness for traveling and experiencing what the world had to offer.
She fanned at the air in refute, “T’weren’t nothin’ of the sort, at least in comparison to the stuff I find mahself doin’ these days. Anyway, I took a carriage to the city and knocked on mah aunt and uncle’s door. I never knew that side of mah family very well, on account of them skippin’ the majority of our family reunions and all. But they said they found mah country charms to be ‘quaint, if not out of place’, and so they trained me how to act and speak like a proper lady” She vocalized the last part in a very convincing and refined southern belle accent. It didn’t suit her, to be candid. She pulled off the cowgirl mien tinged with that drawling accent too well for that.
“Obviously some of that training rubbed off on you, but didn’t stick” I interjected randomly, doing the peanut galleries in my mind proud.
She huffed derisively, “Ah don’t believe in that ‘nature or nurture’ horse manure anyhow, but that’s what I was to them. An unofficial experiment for mah aunt and uncle to showcase to their high class friends” She held up five calloused fingers and pulled then down in sequence, “I dressed like ‘em, ate like ‘em, talked all hoity toity like ‘em, engaged in anecdotes like ‘em, and even listened to that confusin’ opera stuff that they so were passionate about. Yet even after the hassle, they could only ever view me as some back country bumpkin from a farm whose name didn’t ring a bell in their thick skulls” Her expression was sour. It was plain that this was a touchy topic that irked her to this day.
“And now you’re an Element of Harmony, renowned throughout the country for her virtue. Shows you what they know” I gave a louche grin to articulate the ambient mirth, which spread to her in a small fit of laughter, despite her efforts to remain dour faced.
“Heh, ya got that right. But you’re distractin’ me, so quit it!” She cleared her throat, “After one particularly awful an’ alienatin’ dinner party, I realized that I made a mistake turning on mah roots and mah kin. Again, I was mopin’ by mahself next to the window when I saw a wave of colorful light streak its way across the sky. Whatever it was about that rushin’ surge of light… it awoke somethin’ in me, somethin’ mighty powerful. So by the time breakfast rolled around, I bid mah aunt and uncle goodbye, thanked ‘em for their generous hospitality, and booked it on the very next coach bound fer home”
She paused for a moment to inspect the back of her hands and the trio of apples superimposed on them with a smile that was equal parts prideful and piteous. The latter of which nagged at my inability to understand. Why would she look resentful as well?
“Mah family was there at the gates waitin’ for me, arms wide open. That was the day these cropped up and mah decision to return to the apple household justified itself in the fullest” The curve of her mouth tugged downwards as the happiness of the memory wore off.
“That strikes me as being a momentous occasion that everyone could delight in. So why the long face?” I inquired neutrally.
She sighed, “Not everyone, ah’m afraid. Ya see, I gained what every girl mah age wanted most in the world, only to lose the people I valued more than anythin’ in mah life. Mah Ma and Pa were out of town tendin’ to Sweet Apple Acre business like they always did… only they wouldn’t come home to see their daughter’s joy this time. It was only a week later that we received news about the accident on the road” She held back a sob. A choked heave was sent rippling through her chest as she preemptively dried her pre-formed tears. I would have lent her some kind of physical touch to convey my sympathies, but her posturing warned me that she would have just shaken it off.
Her visage darkened intensely, “I was beside mahself in sadness, grief, and eventually… anger. It affected me in ways that I’m quite frankly ashamed to remember. It took a slap upside the head from mah good ol’ granny to make me see that I was becomin’ a bad apple, and that I had to recant mah tempestuous temper unless it consumed me. Mah parents sure as sugar wouldn’t want me to be like that fer the rest of mah life. Meditatin’ on this, I came to realize that I had no right to act bitter about mah parents bein’ unfairly taken away from me. Sometimes these tragedies happen, and there ain’t a thing we can do to prevent ‘em. What good was railin’ against some higher authority gonna do? Nuthin’ but steamed up blood, that’s what. The best I could do was persevere right through the worst of it. If not for mah sake, then for mah parent’s sake, for mah family’s sake, for mah precious Apple bloom’s sake”
She sniffled and shifted her head to look at me, “Whatever spot of trouble you’re goin’ through now. Ya don’t have to go it alone, Zenith. The amazin’ thing about friendship is that it’s supportive. Our woes lose their sting when succored by those who we know are our dearly loved friends. We’re stronger together, ya know? A grove of apple trees resists the storm a mite deal better than a lone one” She intentionally understated, ending her uplifting tale on a humorous note.
“You’re not a half bad storyteller Applejack” I praised lightly, “A little heavy on the stressing of the moral, but not too shabby in its delivery” I added, the lion’s share of my inner critic seeping into my words.
Her nose crinkled in amusement and pronounced the numerous freckles on her cheeks, “Shoot! T’weren’t nearly as intriguin’ as that one with the robots that ya told mah sister and her friends. So long as mine has soaked into yer heart and made ya realize that you should always count yer blessin’s, I’m happy” She leaned back, using her hands as struts to keep her upright.
I laid a hand over hers, feeling the rough and yet feminine quality of her sun tanned flesh, “For what it’s worth… I think your parents did a hell of a job, if they gave rise to someone as saintly as you, Applejack” I complimented, feeling my respect meter for her jump by a whole three hash marks (That’s a lot for somebody to be making with me in such a short time, by my standards).
She beamed at me, a faint blush on her face (or maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me), “Right back at cha, sugarcube” Her eyes flicked to my guitar, being cradled and left unused on my lap, “Say… ya don’t mind if I have a turn, do ya?” She held out an open palm, an anticipatory gleam in her gaze.
I couldn’t see why not. I was out of unoriginal material anyway, “Help yourself”
I flipped it about and handed it to her by the neck, tossing the plectrum to her next like it was a coin. She thanked me tersely and began to play a country song, adding her voice to the melody and singing about having friends there to lift you up. It transformed into another one of those synchronization events that did its damnedest to seduce me into supplying lyrics for one of the choruses pertaining to myself. But I was much too stubborn for that, so instead there was an awkward lyric-less interval where Applejack had to hum my part in substitute, glaring disapprovingly at me all the while. She concluded the cloying ditty with gusto and was applauded by her friends (I golf clapped). Then Pinkie swiped my guitar from her grasp and began playing the ‘campfire song song’ in earnest.
And that… was basically the high light of my Tuesday night.
⁂
I stretched with a groan as the sun’s piercing rays of light lanced through my thin eyelids and scored a critical hit on my retinas. I lazily rubbed at my face while muttering something impolite about it’s matron under my breath. I opened my eyes, only for the greasy mop atop my head to let loose a few strands, flagrantly obscuring my view of the blandly colored rows of books that had become commonplace after the first few happenings of me being cooped up here. I couldn’t see how Twilight could stand waking up to the same sights and smells day after day and be as sane as she was (Relatively speaking). Perhaps that was just my wanderlust speaking, but Twilight could do well to spruce this place up a bit. A pinch of incense at the entrance, wallpapers that didn’t look like the interior of a tree, and some mood lighting. I doubted that it would do much to remedy her blatant lack of library goers, but at least Spike and I could appreciate it.
Speaking of the lucky blighter, he insisted against his caretaker’s wishes Wednesday afternoon that it wasn’t necessary that I take over for his duties, which was nice of him. Although I’m fairly sure that his ulterior motive for doing so was that he perceived that his number one assistant titles and all its accolades were threatened by my presence, forcing him to intervene lest he lose face. But it was considerate of him to free up my schedule never the less. To her dismay, Twilight now had no more practical ground that I assist her during the day to base her stipulations on. This was most auspicious, since I needed to finalize my choices for which projects the Princess and I were to pursue without delay. The fate of the country might hang in the balance! But for now… the balance could wait until I got my personal affairs in order.
I blew the hair out of my eyes, only for it to rebelliously flop back down, ‘That settles it. I’m in pressing need of a haircut. I should also ‘pay’ the twins a visit before they start thinking that I’m flaking out on our bet’ That, and I was too scruffy in appearance to present myself to the Princesses for my tastes. I’m not ashamed to admit that I was also very much looking forward to my next session with the sisters regardless, and not just the royal ones.
I flung the blanket to the side and swung my legs over the cot. I reached under and pulled up my bag, which was filled with priority belongings packed from my mobile home. Digging through one of the inner pockets, I produced a Siam rhinestone that I had removed from the collar of one of Rarity’s male outfits, which she designed for me in Concordia. I then channeled undifferentiated raw magic from my center and into the tip of my index finger before I blew hot air on it. I’m not entirely sure why I did so unorthodox an action, but the reddish aura flared brightly in reaction before reverting to its baseline luminance, meaning that whatever I did worked. I applied my finger to the back of the rhinestone and watched as my aura stuck to it like a wad of gum before winking out. I pressed the fake gemstone against my forehead and felt it adhere to the skin there as effectively as if I glued it on. I checked my reflection in a portable mirror and was pleased to see that I initially got it on center. I could thank my fine tuned sense of spatial awareness for that.
My reasoning for this idea should have been self explanatory. With my improvised ‘focal gem’, no one would be tempted by the need to question how I could cast magic without one. It wouldn’t hold up its disguise under close scrutiny, but it could visually pass me off as a Stellar Mage. I gave the false rock a moderate pinch and tug, nodding in satisfaction when it didn’t so much as budge from its perch. If I ever felt the need to take it off, I could just cast the opposite spell (which would have been blowing on my finger with cool breath. This subconscious knowledge of how to cast useful to mundane degree spells was weird) and have a smooth forehead anew.
Grabbing a scrap of notepaper and an ink pen (thank me very much) from a nearby desk, I wrote a notice to Twilight explaining my absence ahead of time. Desiring some autonomy and more than a little breathing room, I’m ambiguously wrote on the page that I’d be back ‘whenever’. As much as I’d have liked pulling a batman on the bookworm, I’d receive a nagging earful once I got back for ‘running out on her’ and leaving her to her lonesome (Comparatively speaking. Spike has this strange habit of melding into the background a tad too well).
I fought the urge to grumble as I slapped the paper to the refrigerator in the kitchen via another application of my adhesive spell. Why did I even have to do so? What was I, married to her? Entertaining the notion of being shackled to a woman like that reduces me to a trembling wreck. It wasn’t that I was terrified of commitments per se, but there was a free Mustang in me that needed large, open ranges to roam without fear of being confined.
‘So basically we’re afraid of making serious commitments to the fairer sex’ My sardonic side quipped, grumpy as it was from the happy rays of sunshine streaming into the treebrary in their never ending quest to interrupt my slumber in the worst possible manner.
‘Shut up brain’ I soundlessly grumbled in return. Snarky little pissant.
I snatched a simple banana from a fruit basket on the kitchen counter and was halfway done with scarfing it down as I egressed through the door and into the world. The sleepy town of Magiville was in the same process of waking up, so I thankfully had some time left to book it to the barbers before any wayward ladies spotted me. I hadn’t seen Davenport since the ‘face morphing, but not quite trading places’ incident, but I wasn’t keen on finding on how much he regretted his decision to feel young and stupid again (But mostly stupid). The barbers’ shop was in the same general area as the Town square, and conveniently enough… right across from Aloe and Lotus’s fine establishment.
I got there within opening time and was immediately serviced by an older Agrarian fellow named Smooth Shave, who owned the place. The rates were reasonable at seven bits for a haircut and ten for the full treatment involving the straight edged razor. I decided to spoil myself and make sure I was as clean cut as I preferred myself. Smooth Shave himself was an affable guy, chatting me up as if I were one of his regulars, though with the exceptional job he doing as his blade swimmingly glided across my skin, it might become true enough. He asked the usual things, how I was, what I took pride in, where I was going with my life, which woman that I was of the opinion had the shapeliest arse (You know, guy stuff). With my hair length buzzed to more manageable levels, I paid the man generously and made a beeline for the spa next door.
I emerged an hour later with a significantly lighter munny pouch and a silly grin on my face that just wouldn’t come off.
“Best three hundred bits (‘plus tip’) I ever spent” I bumptiously murmured to myself, crossing the ‘massage appointment with twins’ section off my bucket list. I aimlessly meandered around town from there, no real agenda in mind yet.
Something that would apparently rectify itself, for I found myself getting accosted not two minutes later by an angry girl in scrubs with two toned blue and white hair, who vociferously reminded me that I had a dental appointment in the next fifteen minutes that she would not allow me to be late for. She was really aggressive in her mannerisms too, all but literally dragging me throughout town with a strength that belied her smaller frame and Stellar Mage alignment. The emotionally unstable dentist that I cheered up back in the bakery known as Minuette heaved me through the doors of her dental clinic. She escorted me past several nonplussed patrons waiting with outdated magazines in their grasp, before none too gently pushing me onto a chair that occasionally haunted me in some of my lesser nightmares. I gripped the armrests of the deceptively comfortable chair tightly. I didn’t like going to the dentists, you see. The memory of those gaping, bloody holes in my mouth from having all of my wisdom teeth removed in one surgery made me irrationally leery of them.
“Uhm… didn’t you say that I wasn’t due for another ten or so minutes?” I tentatively began, glancing at the clock and indeed seeing that I had time aplenty.
She was undeterred by this, “My previous engagement canceled on me. So I’m bumping you up on the list!” She replied, accompanied by the loud snapping noise of medical gloves conforming to her hands.
“Can I cancel my appointment too?” I meekly asked with a lopsided simper, hoping against hope.
“NOPE!” She cackled with almost sickening glee as she donned a light blue face mask, “Now open wide, big boy! It’s time to see just how poorly you’ve been maintaining your teeth!” Nestled between her fingers were the pointy and reflective metal utensils used to poke and prod for presumably plaque propagated problems.
‘And people wonder why I’m wary of overeager dentists’ Holy crap, this lady knew her cliché scare tactics virtually by heart!
It was all I could do not to squeak out a whimper at the clearly insane woman in front of me. Begrudgingly, I granted her access to my oral cavity (not that kind I prayed!) and wordlessly urged her to get it over with.
She hemmed and hawed as she examined each tooth and the underlying gum line beneath with a careful precision that assured me that she was at least thorough in the execution of her duties. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed the sensation of her pushing on my teeth or probing the gaps between them with those tools of hers, but there was nothing I could do to lessen my discomfort. Unfortunately, she was another one of those dental professionals that liked to engage in conversation with their instruments shoved a quarter of the way into your uvula.
“Preliminary findings suggest that my earlier assumption about the state of your teeth was unfounded. Congratulations mister Zenith, there aren’t many in this town who manage to meet my expectations on the condition of their oral hygiene, let alone surpass them” She said in an impressed tone.
“Jush Xenith plreash” Was all I could say with my tongue depressed.
She acted like she understood me, “Right, right. So what’s your secret? How are your teeth in such pristine condition? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that they were freshly installed like the seniors in the retirement home swap in their dentures” She remarked, withdrawing the utensils far enough for me to speak normally.
‘Some uncomfortable implications there’ I mused. Was my body even the same as it was back home but altered? Or replaced entirely? I couldn’t say for sure.
“Uhm… brushing after each meal and flossing every night?” I fibbed, having used that addictive mouthwash stuff for most of that.
She nodded with approval, “Healthy habits, and I can see that you’ve been supplementing them with antiseptic wash”
“Love that stuff” I opined with a tiny chuckle, “And if it keeps my chompers a pearly white, then more power to me”
“I have a multitudinous stock of those up front, if you feel like expanding your bathroom cabinet’s inventory” She helpfully informed me.
“I’d very much like to have a look” I started to lean into an erect position, but she nudged me back down with her forearm.
She held up a finger, as if to reproach me for being hasty, “Not just yet. I still need to burnish the surface of your teeth and provide a long lasting barrier against tartar buildup”
I resisted a tired sigh. Another thing I loathed about the dentists was how in depth even a simple check up and cleaning procedure was. All in all though, it could have gone worst. Mental images of a whirring drill flickered in my mind, causing my stomach to tie itself in a knot. I gulped anxiously once I realized that I wasn’t imagining the sounds of the whirring too. It was only the fact that I could see the dab of bluish paste on the end of the buffer device that kept my heart rate from skyrocketing.
And to make matters more complicated, she insisted on talking through that procedure too! At minimum, she had the courtesy to dip her instrument in that chalky polishing chemical gunk so I could respond between monologues. Apparently, Minuette felt that she was unfairly being labeled as a ‘bad gal’ simply because she was so insistent about people keeping up with her reasonable oral hygiene standards. The reason she was attending sugarcube corner’s bake sale was to advise its customers about which amounts of sugar were appropriate to ingest at any given time. Some had openly accused her of pontificating for extra business (which she saw as being a ridiculous allegation, as she didn’t charge a single bit for primary check ups), while others saw her as an overbearing dental baroness and secretly shunned her.
Needless to say that second hand reports of the words spoken about her behind closed doors hurt her feelings. Hearing a small and innocent child such as Pound Cake demonize her (even though it was unintentional, and mostly my fault for not holding my tongue) was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She sank to her knees and cried out in an emotional break that just make her the subject of many more conversations. My intervention was ‘well timed’ according to her (this gal seemed to have some issues with outright expressing anything with a semblance of indebtedness), as it gave her some much desired clarity that not everyone was against her. I heeded that she avoided unequivocally thanking me, and while I wasn’t someone who required verbal acknowledgment to justify their actions, it struck me as a bizarre form of self restraint.
“Well maybe people would appreciate you better if they saw you under a different context. From what scant news I've heard of you, you’re kind of a workaholic” I commented, understating what I really heard.
“Of course I am! How can I rest knowing that someone, somewhere, is mismanaging the maintenance of his or her teeth? I have to be on constant vigil to conduct damage control” She stated her dogmatic mandate.
I shook my head in minor dissent, “You shouldn’t be mixing business with pleasure, set aside time for each so that a balance is established. Maybe then your life satisfaction will increase” I was no self helping guru, but even I knew that this woman was overworking herself. Her slightly bloodshot eyes and frazzled hair were evidence enough.
She gave me a confused sidelong glance, “I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Open again please” She instructed. I sank in my tongue and allowed entrance for her to use her mirrored utensil to re-inspect my even shinier teeth from all angles. She hummed in validation once she discerned that she was done.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that stress from ceaselessly concerning yourself with other people’s oral health is ironically, unhealthy for you. It results in frayed nerves that interfere with your abilities as a dentist, and that can lead to a further damaged reputation. If the public wants to neglect their teeth and eat sugary sweets, then that’s their choice. It just means that you can charge extra for when they consequentially develop problems that need more intensive work on your part” Assuming that health care wasn’t socialized here.
She neither confirmed nor denied my prior misgiving, “Your recommendation requires me to turn a blind eye and let people answer only to their saccharine enslaved impulses” She said neutrally, placing her equipment on the rolling metal cart-tray.
“It’s superior to the alternative of asserting yourself into their daily routines, results wise” I countered, “You can’t force them to hold your hand when it comes to their brushing habits any more than you can read their mail for them. You can technically do it, but it’s interloping in their lives to a frown worthy extent, and you’re in this business to promote happy smiles aren’t you?”
“A smile is the natural byproduct of a healthy mouth, but it’s not the sole aim of my profession” Her eyes narrowed by a centimeter, “Besides, I’ve heard about you as well, Zenith. They say that the sight of an upward curl on your face is as rare as a personal visit from the Princess, if not more so. Who is a stone face like you to dictate to me what makes people smile?” She pointed out with an imperceptible sneer in her voice.
Well she had me there.
“Hmmf, I know that I’d definitely attempt to smile more often if people didn’t meddle in my business so frequently” I evenly replied without missing a beat, “I’m just relating to you what stance I take on your predicament and offer my own advice. Whether or not you take it into account is your choice… just as it is for the people of this town to regard or disregard yours”
She huffed in ambivalent beguilement, “Your rhetorical skills are a refreshing change of pace from my usual gauche company” She said as she removed her gloves and mask, discarding of them in a nearly overflowing biohazard labeled refuse bin.
On her hands was the Mana mark of a half emptied hourglass (And I don’t just say that because I’m a pessimist-realist. Gravity naturally causes the grains of sand to empty from the upper chamber of the glass container into the lower chamber). While I had a decent idea as to how it was relevant to her work, I wanted to determine how close to the mark (pun intended) I was.
“So how do those hourglasses relate to the dentistry field?” I struck up to renewed conversation.
She looked so happy to oblige me, “It’s hard to tell at first glance, but those are the micronized versions that only count down by a full minute. They’re used as indicators for how long you should brush each row of teeth” She explained with a drone in her vocal timbre, as though she’d rehearsed it too many times, “And also because I like to keep a tight schedule”
“I’ve noticed” I dryly retorted, “So are we all finished here?”
“For the most part, yes” She gave the okay signal for me to sit up, “However, there’s some paperwork that we need to sort out up front. All first timers need to keep records with me so I might plan future appointments for every six months in advance”
That didn’t conform to my envisioned calendar of probable events, “I get the feeling that I’ll be out of country by the time six months rolls around” I murmured.
She shrugged, “I never said that they were mandatory. But I must know… why would you ever leave the sanctity of Arcania’s borders? The outside world is fraught with danger!” She scowled at me in non-comprehension.
I couldn’t help but chortle at that, much to her indignant confusion, “This town resides a stone’s throw away from a forest absolutely teeming with all kinds of hostile life forms, and yet you think that it’s the outside world’s dangers that are the immediate concern? That’s comedic, that is”
“Hey! I have faith in their Majesties’ government that they’ll protect us from anything that dares to rear its ugly head in our beautiful home. Besides, what would you know about the dangers of the Neverfree, tough guy?” She asked me, crossing her arms like every skeptical woman in this town did when they were unconvinced.
‘Damn, I don’t have the scars to prove anything’ Sometimes, dynamic healing can be a real let down in the persuasive boasting department.
“More than you’d speculate” I said, not caring whether she believed me or not. It’s fortunate that I’m typically humble. Otherwise I’d feel like I had egg on my face right then.
“Uh huh. So what’s your Mana mark then?” She pointed to my shoulder area, covered up by my gray tee shirt lacking a logo.
‘Crap, I was hoping she wouldn’t ask about that in return’ Quick! Gotta make up something mildly believable!
“You’d mistake it for an elongated, arched horseshoe at first” I thought expeditiously, “But upon closer inspection, you’d see a star embedded within” I weaved a plausible lie. Though it made me ponder on what mark I could have had, if only for curiosity’s sake.
“Yeah? And what does it say about you?” She inquired, sounding moderately attentive.
‘That I’m talented at talking out of my ass and getting away with it?’ I wanted to say, but wisely refrained.
“It could mean anything, really. My potential isn’t strictly defined by some mark on my skin” I propounded.
“Interesting” Minuette said in a way that I couldn’t reliably decipher, “Well then, let’s get you squared away with so I can attend to my other no doubt anticipative clients” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she herded me to the front desk of her clinic.
I signed some papers that I barely read (to ensure that I wasn’t selling my soul or anything), before politely requesting that she show me the ‘good hard stuff’ that she hoarded in the back. She frowned at my word choice (mumbling something about that being Berry Punch’s thing) but acquiesced once I patted the enlarged girth of the munny pouch resting inconspicuously on my hip. Minuette’s stock of mouthwashes was impressive, I counted no less than forty seven distinct flavors and dozens of different hues for each. Some of the text describing the flavors were kind of girly, but despite that, I was experiencing magical mouthwash nirvana. I left Minuette’s place of business with a hefty assortment of liquid containers stuffed into a burlap sack that I managed to barter into our monetary exchange.
‘I have officially changed my mind. This is the best three hundred bits I’ve ever spent! And to top that off, no tip necessary!’ Not that I was slandering Aloe and Lotus’s considerable skill as masseuses. I felt limber and fit as a fiddle! They’ve more than earned my recurring patronage.
Once I deposited my mouthwashes at home, I began to brainstorm ideas for what I could do, or else I would have to report back in to my unofficial friendship parole officer Sparkle. Ever since she swore that she’d right things between us, she’s become a repetitious fixture in my life lately. ‘Hi Zenith! Mind if I join your reading space? Got room for an extra crossword puzzle player? In the mood to be my test subject? I promise on my honor as an Element that this one’s harmless!’. Urrgh! It’s enough to reduce an asocial man to a head pounding migraine just thinking about it. Even though it would have the same effect as sipping run of the mill water, I needed a drink to steady my nerves.
I stopped in my random wandering on the outskirts of town as a light bulb switched on in my head, ‘There’s an idea! Let’s enjoy a few with Lyra. Plus, she did say that she’d be the one buying…’ I’m not so old fashioned that I’ll turn down an offer from the opposite sex for a drink. I’ll just have to be on the lookout to be sure I don’t take full advantage of it.
A half hour of strolling over to her cozy cabin nestled in the woods later saw me knocking on her door. Because it was noonish, there were no indicators such as active lamplights on the inside that would announce her presence. I caught her at an expedient time in spite of this, since she opened up looking like she had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a light green bathrobe with a damp towel wrapped encompassing her head and everything.
A delighted smile graced her lips as she saw me standing there, “Well if it isn’t my Snark Knight? What brings you to my humble, log constructed castle this side of the woods, good sir?”
I grinned, deciding to play along, “I was aspiring to seek out her most exquisite highness, in order to ascertain if she would engage in a spot of alcoholic beverages and general merrymaking with yours truly” I proclaimed with a kneeling bow, clipping my non accented voice to sound more elegant and sophisticated.
She tittered, finding my Elizabethan acting most invigorating, “Rise, my noble Knight, and take solace in the fact that your lady gladly accepts your invitation… as soon as she finishes drying off from her favored, unwinding bath time soak” She broke character as she turned away from me to tussle with the towel tangled in her mane, whipping it off to expose her minty toothpaste like hair. I hastily made to pull the door shut and look at something else once she shamelessly took off the bathrobe in my direct line of sight. I will say this though. She had some superb assets.
Lyra kind of reminded me of Rainbow Dash in that she didn’t bother with styling her hair, only brushing it enough to be presentable so she didn’t go out into the world with a coiffure that could double as a bird’s nest. Normally my judgmental side would see that as a sign of a sloppy life conduct and commence blasting the warning alarms. But Lyra was special enough for me to overlook that little tidbit. I’m more tolerant of unorganized people than most, especially when they have some extremely redeeming qualities like a charismatic personality and an enchantingly sweet voice. If it weren’t for the fact that I could self diagnose hexes automatically, I’d suspect that she put a spell on me.
Lyra emerged from her home wearing jeans and her green patched up hoodie. Apparently she had taken Rarity’s advice to get the worn thing repaired. It now looked as good as new, although it retained a majority of its character in the form of slightly lighter threads where the patchwork was located. She looked more or less the same as the first few times I met her.
“I noticed that you didn’t partake in the show I put on for you. Not sure whether I should be esteemed or insulted” She noted aloud, fixing me with an odd stare.
“I respect a woman’s modesty” Was my moralistic response, “Even if her enticing showmanship is rather tempting to watch” I added, complimenting her in any event.
“And there are some women I know who believe chivalry to be dead” She remarked with raw amusement, “You’re either an exceedingly rare catch or I’m a very lucky girl”
‘What am I, a fish? But I’ll admit that she’s certainly reeled me in’ Better come up with some memorable banter to stay on par with her.
“Not to flatter myself, Lyra…” My grin became rakish, “…but luck has nothing to do with it”
She clicked her tongue and murmured something even my well honed hearing couldn’t listen pick up on, “C’mon you clean cut Casanova, I’ll show you over to the Bawdy Bar”
How nice of her to take notice of my haircut. It was peculiar how she said nothing about the fake focal gem though.
I made a sweeping motion with my arm, pointing in front of us, “Ladies fir- ack!” She forwent the formalities and snatched me by that arm, towing me towards wherever this strangely named bar was.
‘What is it with women dragging me around today?’ I opined in mild dismay to myself as I was unceremoniously paraded into the thatch roofed, commercial area outskirts of the settlement.
The Bawdy Bar was… difficult to pin down my determinate opinion about. On the outside, it looked like your average dive bar in the west side of town with a lit sign above the door and dark colored glass obscuring what was going on inwardly. Which is funny, because it really was on the western edge of Magiville, well within viewing range of the fruit orchards of Sweet Apple Acres and a small distance removed from the local town schoolhouse. The rest of the bar’s surroundings didn’t feel anywhere near as seedy, but there was something naggingly disreputable about this place. Lyra was not deterred by the discouraged expression on my face, and she all too enthusiastically tossed me through the doors with a push of her magic when I tried resisting.
The interior of the bar was… a marked improvement in comparison to my lowered expectations from seeing the exterior. It was no Gemmed Tankard in its familial friendliness per se, but it was straightforward in its approach. There was a mahogany bartender’s counter with bronze metallic rimming, where I saw a familiar purple haired woman cleaning drinking glasses to a mirror shine. Pull back levers for beers and lagers were prominent on the right end of the counter, while glass rows of bottles containing all sorts of spirits dominated the entirety of the wall behind her. Private leather upholstered booths lined the walls for larger groups to enjoy their privacy without having to seclude themselves in the back, where smaller tables were set up. A stage could be found in the middle that looked like it would be perfect for drunken karaoke nights, or a professional singer that could hold a tune and wouldn’t stagger about like they were ready to keel over into a puddle of their own puke. At this slower time of day, there was only a trifling crowd of customers in the bar.
Even with all the differences to the one in the Krystal Kingdom, it made me miss a one of a kind adventurous, swashbuckling woman.
‘Great. Now I can’t even enter a tavern without reminiscing about my older memories with Daring’ Sure she tried soliciting me while under the influence of her booze induced haze, but I had a fun experience none the less. I put those thoughts on the backburner for now, since it would have been rude to Lyra. I still found the idea of dating multiple women at the same time to be marginally overwhelming in some regards.
The barkeep waved us over, “Welcome to my establishment! I’m Berry Punch. Park your keisters wherever you please and I’ll be right with ya!” She greeted us with a genuinely welcoming attitude. The inner critic tallied a few more points on my ratings board for this place. While this place seemed somewhat short staffed, it showed excellent regard for the customer so far.
We did just that, taking a couple of seats by the counter for faster service, “So what can I get for the cute couple?” Berry Punch asked with an ingratiating, but kindly smile.
Lyra spluttered and turned beet red, fighting for a proper rejoinder. All of her previous bravado melting once someone other than myself invoked the intimate existence our relationship.
Meanwhile, I felt vaguely insulted by the cuddly adjective, “Cute? That’s not an apposite word I’d use to describe Lyra or myself… can you instead try zesty, perchance?” I requested.
She nodded brusquely as she put away the bulb shaped glass she was polishing, “Well sure… if you two were food flavorings, and not a cute couple” She countered as she wittingly stuck by her original opinion, “So what can I getcha?” She repeated.
“I’d fancy an explanation for why this place is named the Bawdy Bar, when it’s clearly not a strip joint” I humorously commented, noting the lack of metal poles for visually alluring exhibitions. Maybe Pinkie had a monopoly on the supplier for those, among other contraptions.
“Oh that?” She snorted, “That’s because it was a less invective name than the Bitch’s Brew, which was my original choice. The Mayor didn’t take too kindly to the title when I went to her to get the building permit approved, and she required that I rename it as something more ‘tactfully tasteful’, as she basically commanded me. Unless I wanted the permit revoked, I had to comply. So I tried different combinations of catchy words so the name was easy to memorize” She spun her tale behind the name of her joint.
“Is Bawdy supposed to be a pun?”
Her shoulders hitched upwards, “If that’s how you want to see it. But it’s also that way because I know quite a few excessively naughty jokes that will have your lungs turn purple from laughter. Some of which Big Mac of all people taught me” She disclosed with a snicker.
Lyra finally found her voice, “Is it happy hour by any chance?”
Berry swiveled her head to her and smiled at her like she had asked a silly question, “Well that depends hon, are you feeling happy?” She answered with her own question.
Lyra gave me a sidelong glance and also smiled, “I am. And I owe this big lug here a few drinks because of that” She gestured to me with her thumb.
I pretended to be self conscious, “Stop it. You’ll make me blush” I told her, eliciting a short giggle from her at my antics.
Berry’s smile broadened at our exchange, “Well in that case, thirty bits gets you two all you can drink. Though I will have to cut your intake off if I feel that you’ve had enough servings. Safety reasons, you see” She politely warned us. How responsible of her.
Lyra slapped a duo of coins on the counter, “Here. I hope you’re easygoing with your standards on what constitutes ‘enough’ alcohol”
Berry scooped in the money, examining us as she did so, “I can safely judge what your limits will be just by getting a decent look at you. You can probably handle about two or three pints worth, if you pace yourself” Her eyes scanned me a lot longer than they did Lyra, “Hmm… I know your face from somewhere, don’t I?”
I was ready for this eventuality, “Most likely. You first saw me at my welcoming party in Sweet Apple Acres perhaps? I know that I saw you leaning on Big Mac for support once you both had dropped out of the drinking contest” I called to mind. The romantic nature of their relationship should have been more evident to me back then, given how she had nuzzled her face into his shirt as they made a beeline for the restrooms to vacate their stomachs.
She made a pleased humming noise as I brought up the strong and silent man, “Mmm… I love that dreamy guy” She said, before refocusing on me, “So that was you who drank Dash under the table? That’s no small feat in view of how much that crazy speedster can put away. You must have had a killer headache the morning following your victory all the same, still” She jestingly chuckled.
“I don’t believe I can be afflicted with hangovers from indulging in any volume of alcohol. I seem to have a natural resistance or tolerance to it (‘Pink elephantine phantoms notwithstanding’). My system processes it the same as if it were any regular liquid” I truthfully refuted and informed her. Even if the more fitting word ‘immunity’ came to mind.
Berry’s eyebrows shot towards the roof before a devious smirk grew on her features, “Really? Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
I looked down at my munny pouch and back at her, “I’m a tad hesitant to do that… I have no idea where most of these coins have been” I quipped.
Berry Punch just rolled her eyes before reaching under her counter for a big black bottle filled with an inky purple fluid held back by a cork. She plunked it on the surface of the counter with a loud clink that punctuated the lack of lively chatter in the room, “This is a cocktail concoction that I’ve been working on in private. It combines so many things that it could be classified as an entire bar in and of itself. Feeling man enough to prove your fustian claim?” She challenged me.
“What are the stakes? Other than the relevant weight of my future claims?” I inquired, wanting to make this a real wager.
She scoffed, but gave in after my piercing red eyes bored into hers, “If you can chug this bad boy down in one sitting and not immediately face plant on the floor, I’ll set up a generously prepaid tab for you here for a full three weeks worth of visits. If you can’t, then you’ll have to fork over fifty bits so I can replenish the stock that I used to create this. Don’t be insulted when I state that I’m betting against you… but I don’t find the chances of you enduring this to be favorable” She boasted, vaunting her own mixology talents in the process.
Before I could answer in the affirmative, I felt Lyra tap me on the shoulder, “Zenith? Are you sure you should be doing this?” She stared at the bottle nervously. I couldn’t figure out why, it’s not like she had to drink from it.
“No, but that prepaid tab is a very captivating incentive. Appreciate the touching concern though” I audaciously faced Berry, “Bring it on”
The bartender slash owner shrugged, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you” She poured me a large mug of the potent smelling, frothy drink, pushing it towards me, “Helluva drink to start off with, but it’s your body, not mine” She coolly stated the obvious, seemingly to preserve the idle talk she had established with us.
I pinched a wooden stirring rod used mainly for piercing cherries or other foodstuffs between my fingers and dipped it into the cup. I was slightly disturbed when it came out looking significantly more shriveled than when it went under.
‘This takes picking your own poison to looney tunes level insanity. Meh. It’s not the stupidest thing I’ve ever contemplated doing’
I nursed the mug to my nose, inhaling the incredibly pungent scent, “Well then…” I raised it in salute, “Bottoms up” I declared, before fearlessly quaffing it down like a maverick.
Wow was that a mistake! It was like gargling firewater that was actually on fire. The urge to hack and cough was mighty powerful, but I ignored it through sheer force of will. Tears streamed from my eyes in attenuated rivers and an odd sensation tickled my ears as I painfully gulped down the last mouthful, only feeling the tiniest bit vindicated when I saw the two women near me with their jaws practically joined with the floor.
I wiped my mouth with a forearm to stealthily suppress an airy belch, “Now there’s a drink that could strip the paint off walls” I gave Berry a lopsided grin, “Are you gonna uphold your end of the deal? My liver will still hate me for it, but I’ll be much obliged”
She regained her composure after I addressed her, “How about that? Welp! A deal is a deal, and I am a woman of my word” She conceded, “Besides, this more or less guarantees me another regular, and an interesting one at that”
“I’ll just have a mint and rum please” Lyra asked, not taking her ongoing shocked eyes off of me.
“Sure thing” Berry replied, mixing the suddenly glowing Lyrist her requested beverage.
‘Lyra prefers Mojitos? Not surprised in the least. Man, I never realized how attractive she is at this angle’ I shook my head vigorously afterwards. Where had that come from? Lyra’s magnitude of physical attractiveness wasn’t something that fluctuated during the time that I’ve known her. I peered down at the puny puddle of drink left in my mug. Either I was having a recurrence of what happened at Vinyl’s, or I was thinking with the wrong head again.
Ultimately dismissing this, I poured myself another mug from the bottle of what I decided to dub the Berry Blaster and lifted it in a toasting gesture, which Lyra reciprocated with me.
“To us!” I dedicated to our as of yet, unproven but unbreakable relationship, “May we forge new memories that we can always smile on in retrospect”
“Hear, hear!” She clinked her drink against mine as we commenced with the carefree carousing.
⁂
The first sensation that rebooted in my addled brain was unfortunately… pain perception. To put it into perspective, it was as if somebody had jammed a hundred white hot fishhooks into my brain and was yanking and jerking at the line. A second killer symptom of my already spoiled waking mood accompanied the roaring jackhammer in my head in the form of garish light. The sunlight that focused itself smack dab on my constricting eyeballs did so with an intensity that I’ve never known before. My mouth felt dehydrated and my tongue about as smooth as sandpaper. I discovered what hangover breath smelled like, and it was rank. Speaking of foul smells, my clothes had enough booze saturation in them that I feared that they might ignite. Overall, this ranked near the top of the least agreeable awakenings I’ve ever had the displeasure of going through. So much for the legendary Trifect’s immunity.
Cracking open my eyelids to see where I had wound up was a mistake that was met with even more searing retinal pain. Slamming them closed, I groaned ruefully and haphazardly tried to recollect my bearings through my other disrupted senses. The signals that flooded my receptors were mercifully there and in gear, though they weren’t arriving at the cognition center properly. I meticulously sorted through and analyzed what I did know concerning my circumstances. The air was heavily saturated with the smell of pine and pancakes, I could hear the low sizzling of melted butter on a stove pan, and I could feel that the bed I was sprawled on was a few sizes too cramped for my liking. I quickly pieced it together that I had stayed the night at Lyra’s cabin. In all likelihood I was in no condition to safely return to my home in the sky, nor would she in good conscience let me stumble back to Twilight’s (Where the abstinent bookworm would undoubtedly chew my ass out for my foolish lapse in judgment).
“Grrraaahh, my poor head” I complained as I rubbed at my pulsating, sore temples. Even the action of speaking hurt like a mother, “I could really use one of Dee’s vials of rejuvenation right now”
“Who’s Dee?” Came Lyra’s melodic voice from somewhere to my right, accompanied by the noise of a spatula scraping against metal to flip a pancake.
I evaded the potentially loaded question by credibly groaning again and cupping at my ears, “Not… so loud, please” Having both acute Valkyrian hearing and a hangover was a match made in hell.
I oscillated my knuckles against my eyes and groaned for the nth time that morning, “Dear Lord. It’s like I skipped the pleasantly buzzed stage and went straight to the ‘waking up at a stranger’s place with a debilitating headache’ part”
“Really Zenith? You think of me as strange?” Lyra said with faux hurt, she still sounded pleasant to my currently oversensitive ears.
“In my defense… we’re all a little bit strange in some aspects” I bilked her innocent indictment as I slowly got up from Lyra’s rinky dink bed that only her smaller than average frame could fit. My opened eyes still had to adjust to the light and my equilibrium fought to stabilize itself as I wobbled like a sandwich that was piled on too high.
Her lovely laughter filled my still ringing ears as she beheld my pathetic display, “Guess you weren’t as resistant to alcohol as you thought you were! Albeit Berry Punch did admit that the concentration percentile in that drink was potent enough to inebriate a Trifect and flat out hammer an average drinker into the ground, so I guess that was a given”
She stifled another chortle of laughter with her arm, “I should get you drunk more often. You’re a pretty fun guy when your reservations are uninhibited. Heavy as hell when I’m guiding you back to my home to crash, but fun”
Was she implying that I was normally boring to be around?
“I am plenty of fun when I’m sober…” I protested with a spurious trembling lip, “...just not as outgoing or spontaneous. But I’m getting off topic here. How badly did I embarrass myself? There’s a huge gap in my memory and it worries me” I wanted a damage report, stat.
She waved the spatula at me chidingly, “Oh quit whining, you big baby. Berry Punch actually found the shenanigans that arose and lasted long into the night to be so entertaining to watch, that she gave us a couple complementary vials of that rejuvenation stuff you mentioned and asked us to come back any time. She also lent me a voucher for a couple’s retreat in Vanclover for some reason” She touched upon as an afterthought.
I ignored that last morsel of news, “You have a vial!? I beseech you! Gimme gimme gimme!” I made needy retracting motions with my fingers.
She rolled her eyes and fished out a vial from the inside of her tightly wrapped, plain dyed apron before lobbing it over to me with an underhand throw. I popped the seal and guzzled down the green contents inside like one of those Lilliputian energy drink bottles, wincing at its fresh cut grass taste. It took roughly fifteen seconds for the effects to kick in, and another minute for my headache and other negative symptoms gradually receding until they were nil. As extra benefits, it purged me of my hangover breath and empowered me with an instant boost of energy, as if I had directly injected epinephrine into my ticker. My pupils dilated as I underwent a rush of exuberance that expeditiously evaporated the dour fog that had clouded my spirit.
Inhaling deeply of the scrumptious smelling food that Lyra was cooking up, I grabbed a miniature dining chair and pulled myself up to the kitchenette table.
Not wanting to give off the impression that I expected her to feed me, I echoed my earlier inquiry, “Would you kindly fill in the blanks as to what I did last night? Everything after our toast is shrouded in a haze of amnesia” I told her. Try as I might, I just couldn’t recall what went down in the Bawdy Bar.
Lyra looked at the ceiling in thought, “Where should I begin?” She tapped at her chin with the pommel of the spatula, “Well… after we toasted each other, I launched into a string of questions about the marvelous world you came from. A lot of what you revealed to me only presented me with more questions…” She shook with girlish excitement, “…but it’s so fascinating that I was left wanting to learn more!”
“Oh… that doesn’t seem too bad” Maybe my fears were misconceived.
She continued, “Then you started acting different, but in a new and interesting way. You clambered on top of that center stage and started reciting what sounded like poetry in iambic pentameter… you slurred a lot of the words though, so I couldn’t figure out what the heck you were talking about”
My palm eagerly kissed my face, “I quoted Shakespearian sonnets… and didn’t even manage to do it justice. I’m so sorry that you had to hear that. I’m miles better with prose” I apologized to her, massaging the bridge of my nose in my self targeted disappointment. I wasn’t even that much of a fan of Shakespeare to begin with. I must be a completely dissimilar person when I’m intoxicated.
“Oh no no! You were incredibly mesmerizing up there. The growing audience was practically eating out of your hands after you entranced them with your mastery over grandiloquent enunciation. And I found your baritone singing tenor to be enchanting too!” She honestly complimented with the goal of making me feel at ease, only for it to have no effect on my obstinate self.
“I sang as well!?” I moaned crossly as fragments of my waking headache began to reemerge and reintegrate themselves into my torment. Drunken Zenith is sacrilegious to the standards of his own abstemious self. Even if Lyra found him to be charming, that wasn’t a part of myself that I would be rediscovering anytime soon.
“You sure did! You weren’t terrible at holding a tune either. I think it went something like this…”
Without further ado, Lyra began a combination of singing slash humming the lines to what was unmistakably ‘It’s Not Unusual’ by Tom Jones, swaying her hips back and forth as she stacked the cooked pancakes on a silver platter. It may have been a trick of the light at this angle or my vivid imagination playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn that she was wearing skintight peach colored pants. I wrote it off as unimportant compared to the matters at hand.
‘I sang that in baritone? But the original was done in tenor!’ I nitpicked in consternation. Drunken Zenith apparently couldn’t care less about staying faithful to the original version.
Lyra finished her rendition with a dramatic flair as she carried the platter of pancakes to the table using an application of her levitation magic. She made a show of circling the tiny table, pausing as she passed by me to stroke my hair with her hand as she set brecky on the table. I looked at her backside in confusion and felt my heart seize in shock. Lyra wasn’t wearing skintight pants to go with the cooking apron like I had assumed.
She wasn’t wearing anything in fact.
Other than the smock, she was dressed in only her birthday suit, freely baring all for me to see. I averted my eyes automatically as she took her own seat across from me, a devious grin plastered on her face.
“What’s wrong, Zenith? It’s nothing you haven’t seen the other day” She drawled in an all too coy, playful voice.
‘Yesterday I wasn’t close enough to make out that she was mint colored down there too’ I sarcastically thought in retort.
She taunted me further by helping herself to her share of breakfast, tantalizingly pouring on the maple syrup and moaning in delight the moment she her teeth sank down into the crisp skin. This woman was a mischievous minx, rendering me both aroused and hungry at the same time with her seductive behavior. Her overly smug expression prompted me to put up a courageous resistance. I carved into the remaining stack of pancakes with her spare utensils and inhaled them like a human vacuum cleaner. I smirked to myself once I saw her expression falter by just the slightest amount, either at my perceptibly feigned ignorance, or my sloppy eating habits I couldn’t tell.
She scowled, “You have got to be the most ascetic man I have ever met. The only way I could be any more obvious was if I drew a written invitation on my ass!” She spouted in frustration. I supposed that it was the former.
“If it’s any consolation, I’m of the opinion that you have a magnificent posterior” I gruffly placated her as I swallowed a chunk of syrup soaked flat cake.
She didn’t look too amused, “Glad to know that some part of me doesn’t repulse you. Are you sure you don’t bat for the same team?” She tilted her head to me in question. Her tone was spurned enough to indicate that she wasn’t kidding about doubting my orientation.
I nearly choked on a wad of pancake, coughing and pounding on my chest as a means of clearing my throat, “W-what!? NO! How could you even think that?” I was unequivocally straight, thank you very much!
She held up hands in mock surrender, “Can you blame a gal for reaching hasty conclusions? You passed out last night before we could have some fun under the sheets” She said with a crestfallen pout.
‘When was Lyra this horny? She ain’t no unicorn’ I was unsure whether I should have been enkindled or aghast at this revelation.
“Okay, two problems with that” I extended my index finger, “First… I’m not the kind of guy who looks around for a casual roll in the hay. I may be a man, and therefore expressly susceptible to the temptations of the flesh. But I do a decent job of keeping my immoral hands to myself, and I’d prefer to keep that record untarnished”
My thumb shot out, “Second… your bed is an inadequate size for that kind of aerobic activity anyway”
Lyra sniggered, “I can agree with your last point. But what if I told you that I had a solution to our mutual dilemma that keeps both parties satisfied?”
I stared at her skeptically, “I’ll hear what you have to say about this solution, but if I feel like I have to jeopardize my integrity for it…” I let my sentence hang in the air.
She shook her head, “It shouldn’t” Her focal gem sparked to life as a cabinet in her dresser slid open and a curious translucent stone was floated out and over to us. It was the size of a billiard ball and just as spherical. Its outer coloration was a deep magenta, but there was a bright pinkish glow emanating from the center that I found hard to look away from.
“This…” The aforementioned object in discussion landed in Lyra’s palm, “…is what is known as an Eroti-stone. As you could probably guess, its function is to immerse the user or users in a scenario of their mutual liking where they can ‘enjoy’ themselves, and vent off a little steam before it builds till it becomes intolerable. It works by creating a mental bridge that doesn’t take away physical sensation. All the joys of sensual touch and none of the risks or hang ups that happen after” She explained, clutching it close to reverently, “They aren’t terribly common. I got this one at an enchanter’s emporium in Concordia for a few hundred bits. It took care of my baser needs when I was still under the Night Terror’s curse” She came clean to me with a downcast countenance on her face.
“So it stimulates you mentally?” She nodded a yes, “And allows two people to relish each other’s company without technically getting physical?” I got another nod in the affirmative.
“Before I give you my answer, will you tell me what I mean to you?”
She blinked, not expecting me to ask that, “You’re the one who unshackled me from the metaphorical chains of being enslaved to a horrific curse. You were the sudden burst of light in my life when all else seemed like it would remain forever dark. My justification for hoping in an otherwise hopeless situation. The reason why I’m even able to make some people remember me for longer than five minutes. You mean more to me than words could possibly convey, Zenith” She spoke from the heart, “And I also think… that you’re quite witty, caring, and handsome… on top of being my rescuer. I’d be lying not only to you about my attraction, but also to myself, if I denied that I fancied the idea of being one of your girls” She confessed, absentmindedly stroking at the length of her arm. While I was honored that she felt this way towards me after such a short time, I needed to confirm its level of prurience.
“And is this attraction towards me amorous in nature? Or lascivious?” I put her on the spot, scanning her for even a minuscule hint of deceit in her eyes or vocal patterns. I forwent using magic to assist me in this. I intuitively knew Lyra better than anyone else, having visited the depths of her innermost being. Although it wasn’t to the degree that I could instinctively read her thoughts, any more than she could read mine.
She met my gaze firmly and unwaveringly, “Mere words are insufficient for the veracity of my reasoning” She paraphrased my statement to her in the mirror, “So instead of verbally convincing you, I’ll just have to get my argument across this way”
She leaned over the table, seized my head with her dainty, soft hands, and laid one of the tenderest kisses I had ever received on my lips. The kiss itself tasted strongly of her punchy crème de menthe mouthwash coupled with the sweetness maple syrup, and while it wasn’t the greatest combination of flavors, it was delectable none the less. We detached from each other and fell back into our seats, sucking in sharp puffs of air after the extended duration of the kiss sapped us of our breath.
I hummed thoughtfully once I fully recovered, “You utilize a very unorthodox method of persuasion, Lyra” I smiled to alleviate her nervous fear of rejection, “But… you can consider me convinced”
She beamed back happily, no words needing to be passed between us, “So what was your answer going to be?” She asked after a minute, her eyes settling on the stone sphere.
“I’ve come to realize that I have figuratively held your feet to the fire, Lyra” I pushed the stone aside and pressed my lips against hers, caressing the back of her head with my hand. Her surprised squeak soon morphed into a throaty moan of delight, “Allow me to make it up to you... vigorously” I growled in a husky tone, literally sweeping her off her feet and carrying her somewhere where we could do this properly.
The door to the cabin shut with a low sounding click as I exited the cabin an indeterminate amount of time later. I left Lyra soundly asleep under the sheets of her diminutive bed with an adorable smile on her pleased face. I penned a note and dropped it by her nightstand before I took my leave. The parchment piece explained in advance that she had a special place in my affections, and that I would love to hear her play the Lyre for me again sometime in the future. I gently pecked her on the cheek in goodbye so that I wouldn’t rouse her from her slumber. Not that I really expected her to be awake until after she had rested herself. Our comprehensive ‘activities’ (which proved to be a learning experience for us both) had worn her out to complete exhaustion, and she was out cold by the end of them.
In case one was wondering, we did not go all the way, stopping shy of home base. I did go through the task of thoroughly satisfying her in my efforts however, so I don’t think she had any complaints about that one reasonable reservation. I repeatedly fended off her attempts to return the favor; politely apprising her that it would have risked crossing the one line that we had only recently parked ourselves onto. A line that I refused to pass over, as I would be honor bound to put a ring on her wedding finger and a white veil over her golden eyes. That… was a commitment which I was just not ready for, not with this impending prophecy of uniting the world against some unspoken evil, dark omens of arms buildup and war looming on the horizon, and finally the hampering weight of my own insecurities about being capable of caring for those whom I love.
I stood on the front deck of the cabin with my eyes on the orange skies. I had spent more time with Lyra than I initially estimated, for the Sun was not far away in its course from setting in the sky. With a flap of my wings, I immersed myself in that blue welkin, the briskness of the air chilling my nostrils in a vivifying fashion. The cloud cover was obscuringly thick enough that I chanced the possibility of somebody spotting me in the air as I flew back to my cloud house to change into new clothes. It was also so I could consolidate my defense project choices to bring to the capital city the day before the sleepover, which was the day after next. I pondered about the relationships I was fostering with the good people (especially some of the ladies, if you know what I mean) of Magiville. Almost all of them, with the exception of Golden Harvest, were courteous and approachable… and any crises between them were resolved in such a manner that it regularly improved their friendships afterwards. Such a congruous concept was familiar to me, but to see its influence in action for myself was educational.
I made it home (was not quite feeling the word, no matter how frequently I used it) at a hurried pace and to employ the services of my shower, as well as my robes and their accompanying armaments for another occasion. I hadn’t gotten them fixed by Rarity yet (I did enact measures to wash them clean until then, scenting them with cologne withal), but they were still serviceable. Burnt and torn in some areas, but more than adequate for the purposes that I had in mind. I also used that unburdened time to explore my Master Suite bedroom, which was simply put, extravagantly opulent.
Stepping out onto my porch with a languid stretch, I took a long walk off of the short pier, falling through the air until my wings flared out to slow my descent. The grassy space underneath my home was open enough for me to conveniently spar with my shadow opponents. The clearings between the copses of apple trees at the Acres were sufficient when I was working there, but Applejack didn’t like me training so repetitiously where Apple bloom and her equally naïve friends could stumble upon me and put themselves in danger. It cut into my opportunities to hone my fighting skills, but I placed a higher emphasis on their safety over my combat priorities. The tall knee length turf that composed the glade screened in the shade cast from my sunlit house was not a bother, now that I wearing my boots.
Channeling my magic from my core, I shaped several indistinguishable shadow men and filed them in front of me for imminent modification and behaviorally adjustment. I didn’t arm them right off the bat, taking time to deliberate what weapons they would be using against me. After facing the fire mage, I charged one or two of them enough juice to enable them the ability to cast projections that would imitate the fast fireballs that Phoenix flung at me like a madman back in the Neverfree. Six of them were equipped with your standard swords, spears, daggers, and axes and given the aggressive mannerisms of an infantryman. The last three I made into crossbowmen so I could replicate the expected conditions that I might face out in the world.
The next part was setting up the scenario. I commanded the ranged fighters to hang in the rear while the melee soldiers took a closer position near to me. I spread them out reasonably well so that I was more or less surrounded by them, but not ganged up upon. While the shadowy men were enthralled to me no matter what, I had the presence of mind to give them enough leeway to think and react like a soldier. They wouldn’t attack mindlessly and would calculate their chances of scoring a hit on me, which would register as an uncomfortable sting on my body if they succeeded, so I was encouraged to be nimble and quick on my feet.
Not every scenario went the same way whenever I trained. I would either set up an objective of sorts where I would have to capture a point by myself and hold it against the odds, or where they would have to protect a VIP shadow from myself. My rate of success was moderately high, but I wouldn’t content myself with just that, so I pushed myself to make the challenges more dynamic so it would force me to either fight harder… or fight smarter, often by using the environment to my advantage. My shadow clones almost surprised me with how on the ball they were when I commanded them to be. They would set up ambushes for me when my weapons were undrawn and score first blood, or think like a hive unit and attempt to outflank me in tandem, which worked many a time when I was deadlocked with the ones I gave additional strength.
Not that I was flaunting my incompetence on the field. There were plenty of matches where I tore them limb from inky limb, usually on days when I was stricken by a foul mood and needed an outlet for venting my wrath out on. I never liked the idea of overwhelming, ostensibly insurmountable challenges such as inhibiting myself to using just a small fraction of my capabilities, but I realized that there would come situations where I couldn’t show my full hand until the timing was right. I knew all too well that secrecy could be a weapon in its own right. Less obvious a weapon perhaps, but devastatingly subtle in its impact. And on those instances when I went full battle mage made out of meat and rage? Forget about it.
Today however, I was spaced apart from my close range opponents by a distance of fifteen feet, while the long range soldiers in the back were about double that radius. I conjured the sound sphere to provide some background music in the form of Skrillex’s Reptile’s theme. The signal to initiate the fight was always the same. I would hum a melody of four short notes, followed by a long one that I would repeat twice. I did this mostly as a reference that no one else in this world should have been able to recognize (With the probable exception of Pinkie, in all likelihood) and I could derive amusement from.
The two footpads with the dirks were the swiftest in reaching me; they split around and converged on my rear while I was in the process of drawing my Tantō. I sank back from a jab to my stomach from one while the other made to knock me off my feet. I hopped like a rabbit and slammed down on the leg of the shadow, pinning it in place for the lone second that I needed to disperse it with a stab to the neck. I grabbed the second one by the arm and spun it about to take the axe that was meant for me, dispersing it and giving me a split second vulnerability where the drawing back of the axe left the shade who brandished it open to attack. I capitalized on that by slamming a fist into its gut and making it recoil backwards (Extra strength shades took more than one physical hit, even taking my robust strength into account, to lay low. This was to simulate opponents that wore blunt shock mitigating armor).
I was given no time for breaks, since a spearman shade swung the staff portion of its weapon against my unprotected back. The blunt force of the attack was only potent enough to mildly stun me, which threw off my balance as the shade reared back to prepare a lunging strike. I sheathed the Tantō in favor of an unarmed tactic as the shade thrust its spear towards my midsection. With a fluidic movement, I sidestepped the attack and grabbed the business haft of the spear with my right hand, meanwhile hewing down on the center of the shaft with my left, breaking it in twain. I pivoted around and, using its own weapon against it, found purchase in the shade’s neck. I had to duck to avoid a string of shadow bolts from the mages in the rear and speedily assembled Dichotomy to bat away the rest before clashing with the sword wielding shades.
The sword wielding shades were always a wild card for some reason. They were either cumbersome or heavy handed in manner, like they were pretending to wield greatswords, or they were agile and lethal with the preciseness of their strikes. The two facing me appeared to be an even mix of those. I deflected the faster one’s lunge and rolled on the grass to avoid the other belligerent, slower shade, which swung wide like it was chopping at a tree. I was barely able to get back on my feet before I had to deflect several lightning fast slashes and jabs that were probing the stoutness of my defense. My steadfastness did not deter the fast shade from driving me back into swinging range of the slow one, who aimed to take out my legs. I engaged in acrobatics with a backflip and landed a kick on the back of the slow one’s right knee, forcing it to kneel on the injured limb.
I heeded that the mages were preparing another wave of shadow bolts and hooked the crook of my left arm around the slow shade’s neck, effectively turning it into a body shield, while at the same time minimizing the area of me that was exposed to their fire. The sudden influx of shadow bolts peppered the slow shade, dissipating it. I used the moment before it did so to unsheathe a dagger from its chest pocket and hurl it at the fast shade as an impromptu throwing knife. Knowing that it was alert and coherent enough to deflect the attack, I followed it up with a swift and powerful hack of my sword, imparting centrifugal force on it by spinning mid strike. Unable to get out of the way in time, it futilely tried to block my attack, but the power behind the mighty blow sheared its weapon and its featureless face clean off.
It was a shame that facial expressions couldn’t be added to the shadow soldiers, the look of fearful surprise would have made the fight much more engaging.
The shadow mages had recharged at this point, and were tossing blackened bolts at me left and right. Whichever projectiles I couldn’t stop with Dichotomy’s nullifying edge were evaded with graceful sideway somersaults as I made headway towards the range and support oriented enemies. The mage class wasn’t being too innovative in this scrap so far from what I’ve seen, but I hadn’t trained with them for long enough to innovate and codify their appropriate behavior, whereas I tinkered with the other classes to the point where I was, for the most part, satisfied with their performance compared to what I had seen of the real deal. Their pattern of attack had run its course when I tore into them, slaying them without trouble and sending their forms back into the magical aether through which all ambient magic springs forth.
I hastily scanned the bushes of the natural enclosure for the crossbowmen, unable to detect them until it was too late. They covertly enacted their ambush plan hidden from my sight (and therefore safe from immediate reprisal), equilaterally launching their arrows at me from three angles. Each of those arrows hit their mark and I hissed in minor pain as the surge of stinging agony assaulted my brain. I raised a balled fist to signal them to cease their activity while I crouched to my knees and brooded over my situational defeat. Debilitating wounds like that would spell disaster for my well being if I didn’t decisively prevail in my skirmishes. I couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that in the heat of the battle if I wished to remain an effective influence in any future disputes. While I knew that if I had permitted myself to use magic to augment my senses, I could have uprooted the guileful crossbowmen and made short work of them. But that would have only defeated the purpose of preparing for arduous circumstances. My responsibilities would doubtlessly be onerous, and it usually paid to be ready for anything.
‘Damn… I always did have a weakness against sneaky opponents attacking with ranged weaponry’ I resolved to do something about that before it could come back to permanently bite me in the posterior at an inopportune time. I was so occupied with these thoughts that I didn’t even register the fact that I had live company.
“Zenith?” Came a benevolent, if not subdued voice from behind me.
Acting mainly on trained instinct, I whirled around and had Dichotomy leveled mere inches from the speaker’s throat. I was so swift in my movement that Fluttershy couldn’t even ‘eep!’ in fright before my blade was all but grazing the skin on her neck. However, much to my puzzlement, she remained placid, looking me in my fiery red eyes with her watery oceans for orbs. I felt the raging inferno in my soul extinguish, and recede into indistinctness instantly. The Element of Kindness just had that kind of effect on me.
I found it within me to speak, “You shouldn’t sneak up on me when I’m in the warrior mindset, Fluttershy. I could have grievously harmed you or worse! And that would have destroyed me inside” I admonished her, but only because I cared about her wellbeing more than most.
She smiled shyly at me, “It’s okay, Zenith. I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me. I could tell because there wasn’t that aggressive spark in your eye that some of my animal friends have when they’re on edge or feel threatened. I’m sorry for intruding on you though… and for not catching your attention through other means” She sincerely asked to be pardoned, while I pointlessly observed to myself that she was eyeing my robes with fascination. Regardless, she made no comment on her opinion about them.
I would never forgive myself if I had a lapse in judgment to such a degree that I would purposefully injure a pure woman such as her, “By the Sun and Moon! You’re forgiven a thousand times over! May the Almighty strike me down if I ever intentionally cause harm to an angelic woman like you” I shatter-sheathed my weapon as my words elicited a pinkish blush on her cheeks, “Still… it’s unwise to be in the vicinity of someone training themselves to fight more efficiently with might and or magic” I advised her, in the event that she sought me out in this setting again.
Fluttershy looked appalled, “Why would you want to, though? Violence isn’t the means to an end” She protested, being fundamentally peaceful at heart.
I gave her an aside glance as I dispersed my remaining shadow soldiers with a flick of my hand, “You’re absolutely right, Fluttershy. It’s a means to an end. Not the first one that I want to use, mind you. But one that I should ensure my proficiency at, should a situation turn for the worst” I thumped my chest with a fist once, “We’re classic examples of the dimorphic stress response, pretty bird. I’m fight and flight, while you’re tend and befriend” I listed in juxtaposition. She and I represented those words with eerie aptness, in fact.
She stared somewhat sadly at me, “You must carry a heavy burden if you continually find yourself in such severe situations” She remarked with pity.
‘If only you knew’ I mused regrettably, remembering all the living beings that I had to put down in order to survive. I hid my inner grimace from her despite this. Fluttershy didn’t need to get caught up in that noise.
I gave her a halfhearted shrug, “I’ll manage, Fluttershy. I have little choice in the matter”
She closed the distance and embraced me, shocking me with her unexpected assertiveness, “You don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, B- I mean… Zenith” She corrected herself, almost calling me by my real name, which made something in my feels center twitch. Whether it was from wistful disappointment or suppressed yearning, I couldn’t discern for sure.
I gradually returned the warm hug, my lower chest squishing against her impressive bust (‘Gah! Go away naughty thoughts! We’ve already had our consensual sexy times for today!’), “I know… Thank you, Fluttershy. You’re much too kind” I joked lightly, prompting a delicate giggle from her. There was something about seeing her happy… that was indescribably beautiful.
I pulled away from her, “You want to know something weird? Applejack told me a similar truth last Tuesday night” I arched an eyebrow at her in mild accusation, “Are you sure you girls don’t have a list of uplifting things to say prepared in advance?” I inquired with a semi serious inflection. I was on the verge of uncovering a friendship conspiracy here.
She grinningly shook her head, “Not even Twilight does anything that detail specific in regards to her favorite subject. Not that I feel it even could be packaged and pamphleted like that. We each speak from the core of who we are, Zenith. If we tell you the same thing, it is because we have respectively learned it for ourselves” The demure woman patiently explained to me.
“Well… repetition does breed familiarity” I conceded, rolling my hand in emphasis. It’s unfortunate that it still has not bored its way into my thick skull yet.
“So what brings you by my airborne abode?” I asked, shifting the conversation towards more relevant topics.
“Have you forgotten the cheesecake? O-oh, that’s okay, I understand if you were too busy” The upset tremor in her voice was enough to wrench at my heartstrings.
I looked at her like she was being silly, “Me? Forget the cheesecake?” I chuckled, “My dearest Fluttershy, that was one of the very first priorities I made for myself when I was staying in Concordia with Rarity, unexpectedly establishing myself as a single event male model on the side” I included in afterthought.
“Oh my, you were a model too? I still remember my time under Photo Finish’s thumb. She’s a nice lady, but too passionate about her work to see that it’s often done at the expense of other’s comfort” She let out an nervous laugh, her face contorting as she perceived what she said as ill spoken (Even if it was all too true).
“And how!” I agreed vehemently, “I had to put up with both her and her rival. Their disagreements over everything was funny for the first few minutes, but got stale fast once I had to stand in place for hours on end”
“Yeah…” She involuntarily concurred, even though there was a flicker of failure to recognize the other person I was referring to.
Foreseeing the dreaded awkward silence ahead of time, I extended an open hand to her, “How about you and I go enjoy some of that Concordian cake?”
“I’d love to” She accepted gracefully, ennobling me with her company as we ascended up to my home for dessert.
Our dinner date was your average affair, all common traits taken into account. We talked, ate some slices of cheesecake (still fresh after so many days), and talked some more after that. The shy woman was actually quite gregarious once you got her speaking about things that interested her or engendered that caring spirit of hers. The animal caretaker relayed to me that she had a recent influx of critters that had needed her help preparing for the full on winter weather that was scheduled to be just around the corner, which was also why she came to me for our date just now, since she had delegated a less busy day’s work to Angel’s supervision. Provisions like food was something that they could accumulate on their own, but not all animals had the organizational skills necessary to get the most bang for their buck. They came to Fluttershy because she had a long standing food rationing system worked out that allocated resources where they were needed, and even had a side effect of getting the animals to work together in cooperation. Something that I would just not see happening back in the homeland. The plus side to winter time was that most of the animals that Fluttershy felt obligated to care for would revert to their hibernation states, so her workload would level out before dropping as the first snows fell. It agonized me that I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I might not always be around.
We relocated ourselves to my porch area after our date, just watching the changing firmament and telling each other anything we felt like. She implicitly trusted me, and unsurprisingly, that was a sentiment that I shared in regards to her. Almost out of nowhere, I was struck by the urge to express how I felt to the world at large. Being sober came with the advantage of retaining conscious control over my actions, so I did nothing to indulge in that urge. The sensation only got worse with time the longer I refused to do what it wanted me to. In spite of my attempts to keep my bothersome woes internal, it began to show outwardly to anyone with a functioning brain and empathic perception.
Fluttershy noticed that I was bottling something in, “What’s the matter, Zenith? Are you suffering indigestion from the cheesecake?” She guessed offhand. Were this my old body, she would have been correct. As it was though, I was being resistant to the spontaneity of the synch event, and the harmonious magic in the air was discouraging me from doing that accordingly.
“No, it’s worse than that. My heart is asking me to sing, but my mind wants nothing to do with it and dismisses it as nonsensical, but that impulse to put how I feel into words just won’t go away!” I fretted, my face a rictus of vexation. Why wouldn’t this world take no for an answer!? I only sang when I was the one who was initiating!
A twinkle of amused disapproval flashed across her face, “Zenith… what have I told you about expressing ourselves from the heart?” She tilted her head at me as she upbraided me.
I winced, “That it was natural and nothing to be ashamed of?” I restated sheepishly.
She nodded, “Mhm hmm. So then why aren’t you singing yet?” She asked rhetorically.
I sighed explosively, not wanting to lose face in front of her, “Fine!” I swept her up into my arms, surprising her with a small shriek.
Once she realized that I was dancing with her while singing about ‘Sweet Wings of Love’, she visibly relaxed and let me lead, cheeks flushed with blood the whole time. All the mental parallels I made of this world with those envisioned by Disney were punctually regretted and justified all in that capering instance. The only thing missing were the butterflies providing the echoing chorus. I supposed that Fluttershy’s Mana marks would have to suffice.
“Let’s keep what just happened between us, okay Flutters?” I requested of her once the urge to cavort had burnt itself out and I was free of its damnable influence. Fluttershy had loosened up over the course of our dancing (likely because it was far from any prying eyes that would silently judge her), and managed to have fun, whooping and laughing as we rotated in circles like the mad teacups ride in the Fantasyland section of a particular theme park. Which made one of us, really. I was more of a space and thunder mountain kind of guy anyhow.
“I won’t breathe a word of your romantic singing voice to anyone” She promised with a titter as she made a zipping motion across her lips.
She smiled joyously by my side as we beheld the sun set in the distance before dipping below the horizon, the purple crepuscularity before the moon’s ascent made it the prominent astral body creeping into the sky’s features. Our fingers were entwined together as yet another day made the metamorphosis into night, the brightest stars slowly unveiling themselves one by one.
⁂
Saturday was to be my productive day. Having had almost a full week to mull it over, I was now mostly certain on what projects to submit for undertaking. I wrote my choices down on a card to personally hand in to the Princess. The selections had a number written next to it that corresponded to the page it could be found on in my original submission (I can be most meticulous when I want to be). I also took the liberty of transcribing a few more innovations, such as the concept for a ‘conductive coil orbited by a magnet’ simple electric generator, for use as a backup to their magical based brethren. Included with that stack was the tablature for the songs I intended to play at the opening ceremony of the games alongside the Star Seekers.
I traveled light, only toting the card and my armaments with me as I headed for the train station to catch a ride, seeing that flying there on my own power would have been tiring and I was a lazy git at times. Tickets for the ten o’clock were inexpensive (only ten bits), and my robe’s hood obscured enough of my face that nobody would be able to recognize me visually as that ‘Rogue who was devoid of respect for traditions’, as one older chap with a bowler hat had profiled me in a newspaper that followed not long after the fashion show which had made me equally famous and infamous. It wasn’t that I actually let public opinion about me affect my functioning, but I habitually preferred to stay out of the public eye, and media articles that either whined about my nonobservance of established etiquette or praised me for my bold progressiveness were definitely not helping on that front.
The tooting whistle of the train arriving in station mercifully rescued me from my mental irritation. A sizable mass of passengers and myself promptly boarded the iron horse and settled into our plush seats as the metal contraption pulled past the boarding ramp and out of the railway station as we embarked on a journey to the palatial capital of the country. I had my ticket punched by that same conductor guy from my last trip before turning my eyes to the window and watching the passing sights in peace (‘And with no Rarity to spoil that for me’). My hood and general aura of solitude subconsciously alerted people not to bug or otherwise interrupt me as I self isolated, so I had the whole seat section to myself. I could come off as really unfriendly without even the slightest of effort, something that was both a boon and bane for me at times.
Even though the capital couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty miles removed from the less bustling town of Magiville, it still took the steam driven train about an hour to get there. It could be chalked up to the steep slopes that the metallic beast had to climb so it could align with the altitude of the skyward city, but I still felt as if there was something incongruous about the constant speed we maintained and the inconstant amount of time that it took to reach the turnstiles at our terminus. I mused about this as I alighted from the public mode of transport and made a beeline for the gates of the palace. Ducking and weaving around the thronged streets using a method of predicting the mob’s movements like a connate pro, I found myself at the gates of my paramount destination. Remembering what Luna had informed me about the hilt of my Mage-blade doubling as my badge of office, I pulled it out and flashed it to the guards. I was moderately taken aback when they deferentially bowed to me in respect before granting me passage to the palace grounds.
Of course, this late in the morning there was a huge line for admittance to the day court’s proceedings, and while I really wanted to exploit my position to once again gain expedient entry, I refused to become the kind of person who held their entitlement over the commoners (Or about as common as the nobles and aristocrats were in this city). Power was a privilege, and could be just as easily taken away as it was given. So with every patient fiber in my being, I waited for my turn, politely rejecting several attempts by the people to my front and to my rear to engage in pointless small talk and gossiping (These people were generally not receptive to the aura that served me so well on the train). Needless to say that it was agonizingly boring and irksome for me to act nobly. I would have passed the hours by with the sound sphere, but that would have attracted too much attention for my liking, especially from inquisitive Stellar Magi, who were the majority population in the capital. Concordians were a very nosy bunch, and that ticked all the wrong boxes in my books, which made me glad for the change in both scenery and personalities that I have found in Magiville.
I resisted the urge to shout in joyous glee as the court herald called me in next. The fancily dressed man was understandably confused when I told him that he could take a rain check on announcing my many illustrious and overinflated titles to a monarch who honestly couldn’t care less for pride, especially when it was wasn’t warranted. I brushed past him and into view of the Solar Princess, whose rehearsed smile became a little more authentic when she saw me stroll into her domain. She asked me why I didn’t just use the balcony window that she showed me from before. I told her my reasons and she was pleasantly impressed by my humility, but humorously quipped that it would be suitably acceptable for me to simply ‘drop on by’ whenever I felt it prudent.
Mildly embarrassed by a notification which I should have figured out for myself, I automatically cleared my throat and seized that moment to hand her my card and the additional transcribed papers. Accompanying this action with words, I presented her with my logical reasoning behind my choices, elaborating on the advantages and whitewashing the drawbacks. She waved me off before I could really get to the cool stuff, teasingly comparing me to her student when she used to yammer on and on about her findings when all Celestia wanted was the message cut, dried, and centered on the overall conveyance.
I promptly shut my trap for a moment, before succinctly asking where I could find Discord in a flat tone. I smirked a tad victoriously when I saw her amused expression mutate into something vaguely resembling worry as she asked why in the world I would desire to speak to him. I replied to her that it was my little secret, and if she wanted in on it, that she would have to ask Discord to spill his guts (Something I’m sure he was viscerally capable of. Without the downside of gruesomely dying anyways). She grudgingly pointed me in the direction of his office and I was on my merry way.
Half and hour later, I was practicing in the training room where Luna first taught me to use magic. I was decked out from head to toe in clunky, unwieldy body weights, had a magic distorting circlet on my head, and was too confined by the low ceiling to make full use of my wings. Despite these handicaps, I was doing quite well with the Claymore in my hands, holding my own against several smoke colored shadow dualists conjured repeatedly for me by a helpful Stellar Mage guard aptly named Smoky Marionette. One of the reasons I was doing so well was because I was fervently working off stress caused by the crap that the Lord of Bureaucracy subjected me to in order to speak with him about that favor he owed me. The worst of which was the endless hallway of trivial banalities that looped in on itself (yet it had something new to show me every time) no matter how many doorways I passed through. It had cost me a few minutes to come to the understanding that the only way to move forward in that blasted hallway… was to go backwards and out the way I came. Discord’s twisted logic never failed to reduce me to grinding my teeth to dust in frustration, much like how I was currently grinding my boot against the spinal column of one of Marionette’s puppets.
Having a second person controlling the puppet’s made sparring more effective. Marionette never used the same tactics twice, and was more than happy to hand me my ass on a silver platter when I slipped up. He was a quiet and analytical fellow like myself, so to recite an old expression that was the same in this world as it was in mine; we got along famously like two peas in a pod. I took a quick liking to the Claymore, it had a long reach backed by a lot of power behind the blade when it bit into simulated flesh. Only the puppets with more imitated and often ersatz armor were able to absorb the brunt of two or more blows from an on target swipe by me. The grand weapon’s few flaws were easily rectified by playing it to its strengths and utilizing unconventional methods to amend its weaknesses into something useful.
Even with the heaviest weights the royal barrack’s armorer could strap onto me, I was still light on my feet, with only my turn speed really getting de-buffed. They also came with the unintended benefit of allowing me to put the hurt on someone if I body slammed them into the wall, with devastatingly results, as many of Marionette’s poor puppets found out for themselves. The guard occasionally gave me advice as I fought, warning me when I was slacking in checking my peripherals for foes or if I wasn’t maneuvering frequently or wisely enough to keep his puppets from swarming and overwhelming me with their sheer force of numbers. I learned a lot in the hour or so that ticked by faster than I would have liked, in anticipation of the Athletic Championship that would be hosted in the ensuing month. I wouldn’t rate myself as raring and ready to dominate anyone who would challenge me in the ring of honor, but I was slowly yet surely improving my baseline fighting ability.
Events took an odd twist in direction when Prince Blueblood sought me out on the training grounds of the palace and threw himself to my feet, where he noisily begged for my forgiveness in front of dozens of guards. To their credit, none of the golden helmed warriors ceased in their drilling routines to watch the unprecedented spectacle of Blueblood humbling himself before me. If anything, I was the one who was embarrassed by his rash behavior. I roughly dragged him by the collar to some place that was out of sight where I reprimanded him for not formally asking to speak to me instead of debasing himself on the filthy floor.
He continued to apologize profusely, making me idly wonder if the real Blueblood hadn’t simply been replaced by a changeling spy (Which I was sure most people would have considered an improvement contrasting with his old narcissistic self). I thought better of it and asked him what his act was for, since I had trouble buying it after the hostile way he treated me when I first came to the palace. He reassured me that his efforts to atone for his atrocious mannerisms from when he was what he sardonically dubbed ‘Badblood’ were entirely genuine.
I perceived his words as an unspoken challenge for me to test his claim, so I asked him if he would accompany me to a place I knew of where wealthy and common folk alike could convene to partake of aliments and ale. He twitched at first at the mention of loathsome commoners, but lowered his eyes and nodded his consent, garnering some essential esteem from me. Just to be sure wasn’t lying about his intentions; I thanked him for his willingness to treat me to few drinks, chuckling to myself when I caused him to wince as if struck.
Not really having knowledge of other joints worth looking at, a commonly dressed Blueblood (at his own insistence, done to avoid unwanted attention. Which I could understand perfectly) and my regularly robed self were pounding back drinks on the mezzanine of the Lofty Lounge restaurant and jazz club. The bar on the second floor that overlooked the performer’s stage was something that I missed since there were curtains at the entrance that obscured the stairs leading to it. Blueblood was relieved that I had chosen a place that managed to meet the lowest of his standards, clearing his throat and nervously looking away from me once I sent a pointed half glare his way for relapsing into his horrid habits.
The eccentrically voiced owner and proprietor of the place; Smooth Jazz, happily announced that one of his on and off cellists had offered to do something radically different with her skills that night. He grinned knowingly and pridefully stated that he had the honor of employing some supremely talented people, and that he hoped that we the audience would see what he meant by that shortly. With a melodramatic flourish on his part, the curtains parted to reveal a phenomenon that I never thought I would ever see.
It was Octavia.
The classical musician was clad in an eye catching, scintillating backless black dress that caught the light and managed to refine it into a more pleasing form. Or maybe it was the alluring way that the dress hugged and accentuated the rather shapely curves of her body. Her arms were sheathed in midnight black evening gloves that added a layer of depth to her persona that I was appreciating immensely. She was standing on the stage with her signature stringed instrument nowhere in sight, positioned behind an old fashion metallic microphone that reminded me of those used in the forties era.
She languidly bowed her head to her audience before she cued the band to her left to start playing. She tapped the surface of the stage with one of her heeled shoes until it came time for her to sing. The tune was not something that I recognized by name, reminding me of ‘Blues in the Night’, but I instinctively knew that it was a classic in its own right. She swayed side to side as she grasped the microphone stand and caressed it like she would a lover. Her velvety voice bounded off the coffered ceiling and was soothing to my ears, making me momentarily forget of all my worldly worries. The marvelous woman taking my observance on the smoothness of her voice and trying her hand at singing caused an upward curl of my lips, as I enjoyed another Mojito (Lyra had some fine tastes) on Blueblood’s dime.
I cheered loudly once she finished, wolf whistling to catch her attention when she looked for the person who thought so highly of her performance. Her eyes widened considerably once she saw me raising a drink in a toasting gesture. She composed herself for her applauding audience and curtsied to them before leaving the stage. She casually made her way up to where Blueblood and I were presently getting our buzz on (Well, Blueblood was anyhow. Only Berry Punch could concoct a drink concentrated enough to get even me intoxicated).
Blueblood himself was all too eager to drown his troubles in torrents of alcohol. Once his inhibitions were sufficiently loosened and before Octavia crested the stairs, I grilled him on what he had been doing to curry favor with those he longed for forgiveness from. When I did, he broke down into a sobbing mess. He confided in me that his efforts to right things with the people he had besmirched have been met with disgust and scorn. He then gave me an awkward, stumbling hug and asked me why I was one of the few to even spare him a wink of their time instead of rightfully spitting in his face. He raised an interesting question, and I had to meditate on my response.
“Maybe what you needed instead of self validation… was a shoulder to lean on. In other words… a friend” I said to him, stealing material from the guidebook that I was sure the girls were keeping a secret from me.
“W-we’re f-f-friends?” He stutteringly pulled back, sniffling as he stared hopefully at me.
At that bizarre moment, Blueblood was an utter wreck of a royal family member to look at visually. His hair was unkempt and messy, his face was getting streaked from tears, his clothes were ruffled, and he was coping by drowning his miseries at an establishment that served alcohol. He looked nothing like Arcania’s most eligible bachelor prince, and I bet his reputation would be in ruins if he wasn’t dressed in ‘commoner’s clothing’ (They were still pretty damn fancy, all things considered). If anything, he looked like some lost man-child who had finally realized that he was a wretch of a person, and that the road to reparations was not an easy one to walk. Despite my less than cordial history with the man and my acquired disliking of him, I took pity on my fellow prince.
I shrugged and finished off another mojito steeped with maraschino cherries piled on floating toothpicks, “That’s a work in progress, but I’d safely say that we are acquainted drinking buddies at this point”
He tripped toward me and I was compelled to catch him in my arms, “Heh, I’ve never had a *Hic!* drinking buddy before… it’s nicer than I thought it would be” He contentedly hummed aloud as he used me as a pillow. He hadn’t even touched his second glass of gin! This dude was a flyweight.
“You’re drunk, Blue” I took his arm and held it over and around my shoulder before helping him onto his feet, “C’mon, let’s get you back to the palace so you can pass out in your own room instead of on the wooden paneling”
He mumbled something unintelligible and took that opportunity to rudely fall asleep. I paid the straight faced barkeep (what a consummate professional) out of my own pocket for the last round of drinks and carried the conked out prince slung over my back like an expensive sack of potatoes.
‘Why is it that everyone I get in friendly with in this city has drinking issues? I guess the capital city’s lifestyle is just stressful that way’ I contemplated advertising sojourns to the countryside to stressed out city dwellers, but decided to delegate it to someone else with the know how to pull that off.
“Zenith!” Octavia called to me once she was in hearing range.
I jerked upward to get a better grip on the unconscious prince as I regarded the second woman to capture my affections, “Hey beautiful. You were incredible up there” I truthfully lauded her.
Her face heated up at my praise, “You really think so? Smooth Jazz needed me to cover for one of our singers who came down with strep throat. I remember what you said to me about my voice and I volunteered after memorizing the lyrics and auditioning for him. He claimed that he was ‘In awe’ of my hidden talent, but I personally didn’t think I was anything exceptional” She bashfully brushed the accolades aside, “Who is that?” She asked me, eyeing the man slumped against my shoulder. She couldn’t recognize Blueblood at this angle since he was facing the floor, and his ridiculous feathered hat shielded his platinum blonde hair from view.
“Somebody who owes me five bits that I intend to collect the next time that he’s awake” I answered as I leaned towards her, giving her a kiss that she enthusiastically returned with an elated moan.
‘With interest, no less! Was that a tongue prodding at my lips that I detected?’ This girl was already trying her darnedest to get me randy, and she was precariously close to succeeding. It was too bad that I had human luggage that was inelegantly getting in the way.
“Oh my! How cutthroat of you” She dryly remarked with a smile as she disconnected from our osculation.
“Yup” I played along, “I’m a legendary loan shark when I want to be” That wasn’t an unfounded boast either. I was somewhat infamous among my family and what few friends I kept close by for consistently reminding them that they owed me that quarter or dollar that I had spared them during that instance where they were short on funds to buy something.
“And is this legendary loan shark available to see me tonight, in my abode?” She asked with an impish gleam in her dazzling eyes, “I might have a surprise for him that he will no doubt, savor… for quite some time to come” She puckishly apprised me.
“I’ll consult him and see if he’s free of any imperative duties” I joked, before turning serious, “But I’m inclined to believe that your chances of seeing him tonight are all but guaranteed in your favor”
“Mmm… I’ll patiently endure every second until he does” She uttered in that ever classy melodic voice of hers, bidding me a fond farewell as I lugged Blueblood back to his quarters at the palace.
It was early into Luna’s night, and her moon provided only the scantest of illumination as I walked the back alleys to avoid the main street’s foot traffic and people who might recognize even the commonly dressed prince, who was mumbling to himself in his sleep over my shoulder. I was halfway down one of the alleys when three silhouettes emerged from the shadows, one cloaked figure to my rear and two to my front. Sensing that danger was close, I heaved the prince into a nearby and opened garbage dumpster to the side and slammed the cover shut with a flash of my magic. I was counting on them being focused on me, and not him. It would be a shame if my newly acquired drinking buddy was kidnapped and held for ransom at the hands of low life thugs.
“Something I can assist you gentlemen with?” I kept my voice steady and even, meanwhile accessing how to best emerge from the situation with a minimum of danger.
“Yeah” One of them, a portly fellow, rasped in a low guttural tone from behind me. He drew what looked like a dagger from the inside of his sleeve, “You can bleed!”
He rushed forward with a lunge. In the split second that this happened, I analyzed his attack. I discerned from the sloppy footwork and the arrogant glint in his eye that it had no semblance of a tactical plan backing it. So with this in mind, I fleetly sidestepped his stab, coiling my right arm around his arm and karate chopping at his vulnerable Adam’s apple with my left hand like Liam Neeson. This stunned him severely and forced him to drop the knife where I could kick it out of reach. The other two stared at each other worriedly as their comrade doubled over, clutching at his neck and struggling for breath. I may have forgotten to magically blunt that last strike. He’d live through it… I think.
“What?” I held out my arms in challenge, “Weren’t expecting me to put up a fight? That I would be easy prey? Screw that, screw this, and screw you!” I obstreperously declared with the one finger salute.
“He took out Pork Chop!” The larger (and stupider, if his numbskull voice was anything to go by) of them hissed, “The contractor didn’t say he could fight!”
‘Hired thugs?’ That’s just great. Somebody in this town had it out for me.
“I don’t care! We don’t bring back proof that he’s taken care of and we don’t get paid!” The other harshly whispered back, turning to me he shouted, “Together we can kill ‘em!”
They both charged towards me. The dumber of them brandished what was likely some kind of blunt mace, while the other extended four pronged claws from over his knuckles that reminded me of the main villain’s final weapon from the movie Enter the Dragon. The smarter one (likely the leader of the bunch) swiped at me aggressively and kept me on my toes as I backpedaled, while the larger one prepared a heavy handed downward swing that I dodged with a leap. The clumsy weapon cracked against the stone floor of the alley and rebounded off of it, smacking the squatting oaf in the head and benumbing him. His idiocy bought me some valuable time.
It was time that I exploited to make the switch to my hidden blades and catch the leader’s next claw swipe by inserting my left blade’s edge into the claw’s prongs. I twisted it ninety degrees away from myself so the smarter one couldn’t pull out of the trap and stabbed into his exposed arm with my right blade, causing him to scream in pain as he unstrapped his weapon and recoiled away from me. My fist was the last thing he registered before it was lights out for him. I didn’t get the chance to turn around before I felt a heavy weight slam into my back and knocked the air out of my beleaguered lungs, launching me into the air by a few feet. I fell face forwards and rolled to the side to avoid another smash that was aimed at my skull. Not holding back at this point, I blindly lashed out with an unencumbered kick, fortuitously striking the big oaf square on the left shin and breaking the bone. He howled in agony as he collapsed onto his side and nursed at his shattered leg, muttering curses all the while. It was pardonable of me to assume that he was out of commission.
After I could suck in air through my teeth, I hopped to my feet and made sure there was no one else who wanted a piece of me before examining which of these thugs was in the best condition to extract some answers from. I winced as pain flared in my backside, stopping and bending over for a moment to recover. Big dumb and ugly over there hadn’t been playing around with that mace of his.
“Arrgh! I’m going to be feeling that one in the morning” I griped to myself. Rising back to my full height, I dealt with the one responsible by delivering him to the realm of restless sleep with a swift kick to the cranium via my steel shod boot. It might have been petty of me to kick someone who was already down, but he probably wouldn’t have the information I needed… and my back was sore because of the bungling moron.
That left only one other thug for me to interrogate. The man whose neck I tenderized was only just in the beginning process of recovering his oxygen when I bore down on him.
“Here piggy, piggy” I taunted the fat man.
‘Time to work on my terrifying presence perk’ What I was about to do was not for the faint hearted. The boundaries of morality were always in the back of my mind, trying to constrain me. But I was not afraid to exercise the right to suspend them whenever the situation called for it.
“Who sent you?” I asked in an unnervingly calm voice.
“Piss off!” He spat back defiantly, which earned him a kick in his pudgy gut and his lungs re-vacated of air.
“I won’t ask a third time” I warned him, “Now who sent you!?” I demanded in a deep growl.
“That… the… best you got?” He eked out, entitling him a one hundred percent discount on the next two jabs to his collarbone and solar plexus regions. I was about to prepare a shock spell to ignite every pain receptor in his body when he caved in.
“Her name’s Melody!” He wheezed, surprised by my draconian brutality. I did not mess around when it came to attempts on my life. You order a hit on me and I’ll go Jack Bauer on the lackeys you send, and then I’ll hunt you down.
‘I knew that snake in the grass wouldn’t stay gone from my life’ I brooded. Perhaps I should have made my meaning to her a little clearer back in the auditorium.
I grabbed him by his thinning ruddy hair and emphatically introduced his face into the alley’s stonework, “You’re going to carry a message to her for me” I compelled the man, just daring him to argue with me.
He spat out a chipped fragment from a tooth, “An’ why should I come crawlin’ back to ‘er with my tail between me legs?” His angrily asked in his salty, accented voice.
“You’ll do it… even if I have to carve it into your flesh for all to see!” I seethed in a tone that brooked no contradiction, lest I make good on my very real threat.
The man took heed and began struggling in my snaring grasp from fright, “Alright, alright! I’ll do it… What should I tell ‘er?” He yielded with an ease that almost disappointed me. But I wasn’t a sadist, so I harmed him no further and released him from my clutches.
“Tell her that if she ever pulls a stunt like this again, I’ll find her, tear her ovaries out… AND PROCEED TO FEED THEM TO HER! AM I UNDERSTOOD, YOU PISS BORN TRASH!?” I might have lapsed into the Royal Concordian voice right there, but I was too furious to pay it any mind.
“Yes yes! We’ll tell her to leave you in peace!” He more or less cried out in compliance and fear, which was my ultimate objective in this exercise.
“Feel free to quote me on that!” I cheerfully spouted, “Now rally your friends together and get out of my sight… before I change my mind” I said in an ominous voice completely devoid of emotion. He perfunctorily nodded and obediently hobbled over to check on his incapacitated comrades, frenetically urging them to get the hell out of there.
I fished a significantly more odiferous Blueblood (who had slept through the entire exchange) out of the dumpster, wiping the rotten food chunks off his person and holding him with my magic since I didn’t want to become dirty myself. Showing no fear whatsoever, I ambled past the thugs who were licking their wounds and out of the alleyway, giving them arrant access to my exposed backside. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t have my extra sensory perception spell active in case they felt like getting in some cheap shots, but none of them dared to lift a finger against me. Too fearful were they of the unassuming man wearing robes, and the vindictive monster that he restrained within.
I made good time back to the castle and left the heavy sleeper of a prince in the capable hands of the gate guards on duty. Their perturbed outcries were mollified once I truthfully explained that the man only had one too many drinks with me and suffered a mishap with a dumpster. They summoned some of the palace servants to bear him to a bath so he could sober up and clean off the filth that stubbornly clung to his matted locks of hair.
With that insipid business all in order, I hightailed it back to Octavia’s place, spurred on by curiosity as to what sort of surprise she had prepared for me. I entered her apartment complex and knocked on her door to announce my presence. I heard some shuffling from inside before she gave me the okay to make my ingress. I dramatically inhaled deeply in suspense before twisting the knob and pushing forward. I must admit… Octavia’s surprise for me was sexy as all hell. I’m not sure where she acquired it, but she was wearing a maid outfit that was wrapped up with a magenta bow that matched the pretty color of her eyes. She had positioned herself by a large mirror, facing away from me with a polishing cloth in her hands and showing off her plump posterior. She seemed to be into the art of role play. And boy, could she play.
‘Oh… Octavia, you certainly know how to tempt a man’ I felt weak kneed as I beheld her lithe form, the great Zenith about to be laid low by a woman. His woman in fact, but the irony was pertinent regardless.
She ditched the cloth and strutted over to me with a sultry gait, “I recall you made a promise about performing for me?” She said with a frisky bounce in her step, pulling me down into a passionate kiss as she spun me around and closed the door behind us with a hooking motion of her foot.
⁂
I awoke enveloped in Octavia’s warm embrace. I was supremely tempted to just lie there for the rest of the morning and stroke at her lustrous hair, (the wretched sunlight couldn’t penetrate the cellist’s thick curtains. Something I was very grateful for) but I remembered that Sunday was sleepover slash movie night at the treebrary. After extricating myself from her iron grip, I wrote another note using the almighty ink pen explaining that I found her company to be most pleasurable (pun intended. Still didn’t compromise on my no home base rule) and that I would visit her as frequently as I could given my present circumstances. Planting a kiss on her snoozing brow in goodbye, I got dressed and hurried to board the first return train to stop at Magiville.
As soon as I stepped foot onto the platform, I scrambled back to my home in the clouds and to change clothes and isolate myself within its confines until it came time to indulge the others in both my origins and my movie collection. A note from Twilight that was posted to my door informed me of when I was expected at the library in a detached tone, likely because I had been giving her the runaround for the past few days. Shrugging to no one in particular, I occupied myself until then by taking advantage of my semi anechoic musical chamber to rock out, playing songs that I had never tried before and using different instruments than my trusty guitar. I put the world’s harmonious synchronization events through their paces in those jammin’ hours.
Day once again morphed into night and soon I was impelled to congregate with the others at Golden Oaks. Thanks to my keenly honed sense of punctuality, I was the first guest to arrive. Twilight welcomed me by zapping me with a stupefying spell (which was ineffective against me, but I pretended like it worked so she would feel empowered. I’m a giver like that. A deceitful giver, but a giver none the less) and giving me an earful for disappearing on her, which I bore with the expression that I used to seem like I was listening when I really wasn’t. Having vented her frustrations out on me, she recomposed herself to be cordially welcoming to her five other best friends.
Once we were all settled in, they wasted no time in grilling me on who I was and where I came from like I had promised them I would. They were shocked that I came from another world, and initially had difficulty believing me. Twilight wasn’t as flabbergasted, as she admitted that she had rifled through my belongings once and couldn’t recognize many of the objects she found, nor their foreign inscriptions (China didn’t have an analogy on any of this world’s maps). Even though I had already suspected her of doing this in the past, I still experienced a pang of disappointment at her meddlesome inquisitiveness. I withheld revealing what my birth name was (except for Fluttershy, who knew beforehand), giving them my reasoning for doing so. But I did promise to tell them all someday when I felt it befitting the occasion.
They couldn’t even process the idea of my world’s Sun and Moon being out of the control of any one person, and were utterly flummoxed when I explained to them that gravity was their master. To illustrate my point more effectively, I asked Twilight for a bed sheet, a paperweight, and some marbles. Having Applejack and Twilight hold the sheet to the extent of moderate tautness, I explicated on how the sheet represented the fabric of space and time. I subsequently dropped the paperweight in the middle and told them how the object with the greater mass had a correspondingly greater gravitational pull on lighter objects, before taking the marbles and rolling them around the stir-fry shaped bowl demonstrating the orbits that the planets took as they made their way around the sun. Twilight appreciated the demonstration immensely, and eulogized my example after she had mentally thrown out her concepts of the influence of magic on that system.
After the questions and answers portion of the sleepover was finished, we moved on to the socializing part. This part I decided to skip while I busied myself with setting up the main entertainment. Unfortunately, the others would not concede any breathing space for me to do this. Applejack demanded a word about being loose lipped with Rainbow and apprising her about the occasion that she tried to trick me into thinking that I slept with her. Her timing for this confused me, but I chalked it up to wanting to appear justified in front of her friends. I could have turned it on its head by reminding her that Rarity was the one who schemed that up and Applejack was just an accessory, but I let the apple farmer have her ostensible victory over me.
Somehow from there, everyone crowded around me as they began telling me things that I approximately knew about them, but had never heard about in their own words. I learned for a fact that both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were only children much like myself, though they considered each other to be sisters after a fashion, since they had known each other for such a long time. Pinkie revealed in a fit of giggles that she still kept all of the spent confetti from the very first party she ever threw as a memento and sometimes bathed in it (She’s so unusual!). Applejack relayed to me how she could count the number of big official places that she had been to outside of Magiville on one hand, and seemed indifferent as to whether or not she wanted to see more. Twilight disclosed with flushed features that she kept a steamy series of novels hidden behind inconspicuous tomes back in her tower as a guilty pleasure whenever she had free time.
I smirked as she said that, “My personal favorite scene was when Courtier Heartthrob finally gave up his skirt chasing habits to confess his endless love for the relatively low born Scribe Midnight Oil, even though he could have had the hand of any noble lady he so chose. Those little doodles of yourself in the place of Midnight Oil that you drew on separate sheets of paper crammed into the back were adorable, Twilight”
“Y-you… you read my romance books!?” Twilight shrieked, looking like she was about to hyperventilate and faint from embarrassment. Score one underhanded point for me.
“And legitimately enjoyed some of them” I shamelessly averred, “But enough of that! It’s time to break out the movies!” I pulled out my prized laptop from my satchel and set it on a low lying table in the main atrium and signaled the girls to pop a squat behind me.
“What the heck is that thing?” Rainbow Dash asked aloud.
“I don’ rightly know. But ah can approve of its logo” Applejack piped in, nodding at the Apple symbol on the screen. It’s probably for the best that she didn’t claim that it represented her family in general; otherwise I was afraid that the Apple Corporation would traverse the cosmic veil just to file a lawsuit. Even if they did, they would quickly find out that copyright claims don’t exist on this side of the reality.
“Are you sure we can’t engage in at least one round of spin the bottle?” Rarity asked me with a sigh. I ignored her, because I knew that she only wanted to get gossip worthy dirt on everyone else, and to rope me into more uncomfortable situations.
“Do you fancy cinema films, Rarity?” I directed at her.
“The last motion picture I recall spending two hours watching was Con Man, the one with the spy who infiltrates evil organizations and brings them down from the inside?” Rarity sighed dreamily, “Such suave class… and those Tuxedos! I dare say that I couldn’t do much to improve on them if I had made them myself!”
‘Huh, must be this world’s version of Double O Seven’
“High praise, coming for you” I remarked offhandedly as the screen booted up.
The device that they had never laid eyes on before, and it was only on the home screen, awed the girls. If I showed them what this baby could really do, their minds would chase their literal tails ad infinitum. I tapped the iTunes icon and scrolled over to my movie tab, displaying my impressive list of digital titles worth perusing. My mother had obsessed over collecting high definition movie discs and their additional digital copy cards, so I had plenty of material that was imported over from the home sharing network. To be fair though, I taught them how to use the touch pad (the coveting glister shining in Twilight’s eye was cause for some concern) to scroll up and down so they could vote on whatever they might like to see.
Something that I almost immediately regretted.
“What’s this one? …Frozen?” Twilight uttered curiously, scanning her eyes over the title.
“NO!” I rushed over at speeds faster than I thought myself previously capable of and snatched my laptop away from her, “We’re not watching that… ever” I suppressed a shudder, I could already envision them singing along to those damnable songs and driving me into an early grave.
‘The last thing I want is for frozen fever to spread here’ I should delete that movie as soon as possible and save the world from at least that scourge.
“New idea! I’ll do the picking, and you sit pretty and watch. Alright?” My tone made it clear that it wasn’t up for discussion.
“What was wrong with Frozen?” Twilight confusedly inquired.
I shook my head, “Not talking about it… nope” I hummed thoughtfully as I found one that they might like, if only for the comparative symbolism. I set the laptop down again and put on the eighties movie Legend. Over the course of the film, I was gauging their reactions. Twilight was watching my laptop more so than the movie itself. Rarity and Applejack watched attentively. Pinkie and Rainbow Dash were horse playing before they noticed me staring disapprovingly at them and cut it out. Fluttershy was smiling at me once it showed the excessive nature scene, like she thought that I picked this movie with her likings taken into account.
“Well? What were opinions of it?” I surveyed them once the movie was over.
“It may have coincidental, but I was drawing parallels between the protagonists' struggles, and our struggle against the Night Terror, who also sought to bring about eternal night” Twilight studiously said.
“Unicorns? Ridiculous! Simply ridiculous” Rarity criticized with a huff. I couldn’t help but snicker at the situational incongruity of her words.
“And just what are you grinning at?” The seamstress narrowed her eyes at me.
“The sheer irony permeating the atmosphere right now”
“That demon was scary…” Fluttershy meekly spoke up, just at the threshold of my exceptional hearing.
“If you think Tim Curry was scary in this movie, you should see him in the rocky horror picture show. That was Grade A weird” I told her with a chortle.
Oh nuts, I just realized that I never should have mentioned that to Pinkie.
“Ooh Ooh! Can we watch that one next!?” Pinkie pleaded with her usual fervor, waving her hand in the air like a kid in class.
“Maybe next time” I gently put a damper on that, selecting the Nightmare before Christmas at the next film on the list. I entertained the girls by whistling along to the songs. Now that was material worth doing unorthodox things for. Reactions to this movie were generally positive. The girls cheered Jack Skellington on as he rediscovered his passion for Halloween and when he battled boogie to rescue his friends.
It was getting late when I made one last choice before we had to turn in for the night. I scrolled to a special, almost hallowed section of my media library and put the first Star Wars movie on the screen for their viewing enjoyment. I also did it for myself, since Star Wars was the heart and soul of my favorite futuristic fantasy epics. I loved practically everything about it, the vast and beautiful setting set against the backdrop of the stars, the conflict of the noble and resourceful Alliance rebelling against the evil Galactic Empire, and the personal story of the unassuming moisture farmer becoming a hero destined to save the galaxy. It took all these amazing storytelling elements and blended them together in such a way that it captured my love forever onwards. Furthermore, I think I might have also converted Twilight in the process, because she watched this movie with rapt attention, absorbing every detail and committing it to her deepest databanks for reference. Halfway through the tale she began sketching something on a pad of paper that I couldn’t see at my angle. I just dismissed it as Twilight taking notes and thought nothing more of it.
All things considered, it was a superb way to conclude my Sunday.
...
“That was… nice” Fluttershy opined to me, after the credits screen rolled around.
I was pretty sure that the sound of shattering glass was my core breaking apart as I gaped open mouthed at her.
Chapter 25: Academic Amelioration & Athletic Games
“Hmm?” I hummed. My right forearm propped behind my head as I leaned back against the sleeping bags that Twilight provided for us. There was something about ‘camping’ indoors that never ceased to confound me whenever I thought about it, so I didn’t.
She cleared her throat apologetically, “Do forgive me for inquiring, darling, but there is one thing about what you revealed to us earlier that has been nagging at my innermost curiosity. Well, more than one thing, truthfully. But there is a single mystery that stands out to me amongst the rest”
I cracked open an eyelid to regard her slightly darker silhouette contrasting with the blackness of the library as she lay beside me, “And what might that be?”
I saw her shadowy head look away for a moment as if to debate how to phrase her question, “Why is it that you named yourself as such? Was it improvised so that you could better blend in with Arcanian society? Or is there another explanation?”
“Of all the things you want to ask me after I disclosed the fact that I’m from a land worlds removed from this one, you want to know why I call myself Zenith?” I incredulously balked to her.
“Well I can safely speak for most of the others when I say that we are nothing less than astounded by this unexpected revelation” She faintly chuckled, “Although it does clear up many a mystifying aspect about you”
“I take that as a compliment” I dryly said, “So you think there’s an underlying story behind why I chose that alias?” She nodded in affirmation, “Well you’re partially correct. There is an abundance of reasons as for why I call myself that, to be honest. But the simplest one that I’ll relay to you is that I prefer being on top of things” I told her, glad that she didn’t have the crude humor to twist that comment into something ribald like a certain adventuress I was enamored with.
I couldn’t actually see the motion on her face without magically augmenting my eyes, but I was sure she was cocking a brow, “Ah, so it’s a tribute to your personal skill then?”
I hummed low in disagreement, “Not quite. It’s a moniker that I identify with on a level that I just can’t reliably relate to you. But suffice it to say that I expect to live up to that self granted name to the best of my ability. Failing that, I’d at least retain a name that stays disyllabic” I naturally shrugged, not really caring whether or not the woman could see it.
“Yet another detail that boggles my mind. Why do you insist on keeping your birth name from all of us? Are you ashamed of it? Or do you have ulterior motives for hiding it?” She sounded almost accusatory, as if insulted that I would deny her the pleasure of knowing the name that I answered to on another level.
‘Who says I hid it from all of you?’ I wanted to wisecrack, but prudently refrained from doing so.
“I’m not ashamed of my name in the slightest, Rares” I refuted, noticing her visibly twitch at the nickname, “It’s just that using my real name would, more often than not, attract undue attention, and I do so enjoy my life free of unnecessary interruptions”
I saw her brush away a stray curl of hair with her hand, “Very well. And was this person with the unusual name different than the one currently in front of me?” She posed a perplexing inquiry.
Now that was a very interesting question indeed. How much exactly, have I changed since first waking up in Crystal Clear’s care? I’d have to think about this. Personality wise, I’m pretty much the same guy that I always was in the relatively short span that’s passed. But at the same time, so much change has occurred in my life that I never thought I’d experience. I mean, I never once imagined that I’d romantically connect with more than one woman and yet see each one as being desirably unique and lovable in her own right. I was also capable of things I could only dream of back home, to say nothing about the evolution of my magical abilities.
I settled for a culling from both column A and B, “I myself am resistant to change, but overall I would have to answer that question with a yes. My life has changed much since my transition, though my subdued reaction to it all remains the same, no matter how outrageous the things I bear witness to on a daily basis are” I mordantly stated, “But I feel like I should elucidate further. I am Zenith, yet Zenith is not necessarily me” I paused to let that contradictory statement sink in.
When her head tilted sideways in flummoxed confusion, I continued, “Allow me to clarify on that point. The name Zenith is reminiscent of a Stellar Mage’s appellation, correct? Well that’s mere coincidence, really. The meaning behind the name is both symbolic and arbitrary on my part”
“Assume me to be ignorant to your meaning, darling. Do explain it to me in unfettered description” She patiently requested.
“Gladly. Semantically, to be at the zenith of something is to be at the apex in height, success, or power. That is, relative to something else, mind you. I suppose that the name fits me symbolically since I am one of the few Trifects to walk this Earth and therefore incredibly powerful by nature (‘And unless that breech loading design deal falls through, I suspect I’ll soon be moderately wealthy as well’). Less profoundly, it fits in an arbitrary sense because I liked the catchy way it rolled off the tongue” I concluded somewhat ineloquently.
“Hmm… yes. I always did believe it had a nice ring to it” She said, whispering my name under her breath as if sampling its flavor, “Thank you for telling me this… Zenith. I feel as if I understand you better now”
I gently shook my head, “You’ll never truly understand me, Rarity. But to be perfectly candid with you, I don’t even understand me much of the time” Not entirely in accordance with fact, but it was meant to console her, not myself.
“Perhaps we should work on rectifying that. Say… this Tuesday night at Le Petit Cheval Bistro?” Rarity suggested with a hopeful voice, before artfully disguising it under the guise of business, “You can even consider it my price for repairing the robes that you’ve managed to damage so quickly. Just remember to drop them off at my Boutique whenever it suits you, darling”
“Why Miss Rarity, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were asking me out to dinner” I fanned at my face with a hand melodramatically.
She huffed indignantly at the gesture and turned her nose up and away, “Well! Forgive me for taking a proactive role in this relationship!”
I held out a placating hand, “Relax, Rarity. I’d love to treat you to dinner that night. I only ask that you do not order the most expensive, elegantly named item on the menu… and that the only wine we partake of is a fortified dessert liqueur” The last stipulation was more for her sake, as I didn’t want to carry an inebriated Rarity home.
She comprehended the implicit meaning behind it, “I’ll have you know that I am no lightweight, darling. Nor do I entertain any notions of drinking more than a proper lady should” She upheld her refined demeanor with that classy (though obviously not inborn) accent.
“Good. That means I get to finish the bottle” I glibly replied in jest, “What time shall I come knocking?”
Rarity thought for a minute before answering, “No later than seven in the evening, Zenith. I require at least an hour to ‘spruce myself up’, as it were”
I snorted in disbelief, “It takes you an hour to do all that? Heck, I’d just throw on my spiffiest outfit, spritz some cologne on my wrists and collar, comb my hair maybe one or two times, and I am out the door in under ten seconds flat”
“Don’t let Rainbow hear you say that, lest you find yourself contending against her. Although I’m doubtful about how efficiently she could groom herself” Rarity teasingly ridiculed her friend, “Furthermore, unless things happen differently wherever it is you come from Zenith, women in this country like to take the time to appropriately beautify themselves” Rarity explained with an unamused tone.
“I don’t see the point of that. If I can’t appreciate a woman’s natural beauty, then how could I be worthy of her to begin with?” I interpolated, speaking my mind on the subject.
She made a cooing sound, “That’s sweet of you to believe, darling. But women don’t always apply cosmetics simply for others, sometimes they just want to feel glamorous when they see their reflection in the mirror”
I’ve heard an adage like that before, ‘Superficial self flattery, is more like it. But I’ll leave her opinion unchallenged’
“There is… one other thing I need to ask of you, Zenith” She tentatively supplicated after a brief lull in our conversation.
“Ask away” Was my clipped response, for weariness was tugging at the edges of my eyesight.
She noticed my flagging coherence, “Perhaps I better tender my request in the morn-”
“Ask me, Rarity” I was in no mood for her obliqueness.
Even if I couldn’t see it, I was fairly sure that she was scowling at me, “My precious sister, Sweetie Belle is supposed to present a unique exposition along with her friends in class tomorrow afternoon”
“In what context? Is it a show and tell? Or a different breed of presentation altogether?” I tiredly brought up.
“From what my sister has apprised me, Miss Cheerilee has given them free reign, so long as they have an intriguing demonstration for the class that the others can write about in their notebooks”
“Is Miss Cheerilee always so liberal with her assignments?” I cynically spoke, mildly envious. I never received such leeway when I was in grade school.
“Not at all! In fact this is somewhat of an aberration from her typically assigned work” Rarity noted offhand with a downward intonation, as if this was an infrequent development.
“Okay. So why tell me this?” I drawled, cutting to the chase.
She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “I was just getting to that. You see… Sweetie Belle and her friends had one of their brainstorming sessions in Applejack’s old childhood tree house at the acres over the weekend. Despite their best efforts though, none of them seemed to come up with anything solid… or didn’t deviate into their infamous Mana mark acquisition ideas” She audibly stifled a wince as she said that, and to be honest, I did the same.
“Perhaps they should have tried for liquid then? That way the ideas would flow out of their creative centers naturally” I quipped, not really taking this all that seriously.
She gingerly pushed on my shoulder reproachfully, “This is not a joking matter, Zenith! Sweetie Belle was most distressed about this!” She hissed harshly, expressing legitimate sisterly concern. How touching.
I scoffed, “Well what do you want me to do about it? I’m not the one who should be responsible for their school work”
“Actually… if you were to be in their presentation, you technically would be responsible” She amended my statement.
“Huh? Rarity, of all the harebrained schemes…” I trailed off, too exhausted to think of anything witty to tie along with that.
“It is not harebrained!” She protested with a rise in pitch, “After that demonstration of how gravity could theoretically serve as the primary force behind the day and night cycle of your world, it was to be expected that I would come up with this solution” She judged, as if it were a foregone conclusion.
“So? Does that automatically make me a source for interesting scientific expositions in your eyes?” I could not believe that she would all but volunteer me to be her sister’s academic savior. Learning is a lot like art to me. It’s continual suffering until you finally get it! Pain might be strict, but it is an effective instructor.
“Please, Zenith? I’m sure my dear sister would appreciate you lending them your varied expertise in unexplored fields immensely” She pleaded, her eyes somehow sparkling in the pale moonlight that a parted cloud let stream in through the library window.
‘I do technically owe her a miniscule debt for not ratting me out to her sister for the hair prank’ I mused, resisting the small urge to cackle at the memory. Rarity still had some traces of greenish dye left near the roots of her coiffure that she had missed.
I waved my hand in the air in begrudging consent, “Ugh… fine, fine! I’ll devise something worth showing and worthy of my ken”
“Oh thank you Zenith!” She exclaimed, before leaning over and giving me a grateful peck on the cheek, “I’ll inform Sweetie first thing in the morning” I saw her outline reach into her dress shirt pocket, pulling out what had to be some kind of notepad to remind herself to notify her sister of the good news.
I surreptitiously rubbed at the spot where she kissed me when I knew that she wasn’t paying attention, “Where is your sister staying tonight anyway? Certainly not by herself at the boutique, right?” That would be just asking for trouble. Despite how sweet the girl is; she can be remarkably adept at unintentional disassembly of valuable objects, a quirk that she shares with her schoolmates.
“Certainly not!” She affirmed, tucking the notepad away, “She and the other Mana Mark Maidens are having a sleepover at the Acres under the watchful eye of Applejack’s brother, Big Macintosh” Rarity dreamily sighed at the name, somehow sparking a sensation of jealousy in me, despite how tepid my own affections for the seamstress were.
“Alright then. I best be getting on with my sleep” I articulated with some annoyed heat burning at my face that was proving more difficult to contain than I preferred. I was about to lay back and let sleep overtake me when I picked up someone speaking in hushed tones from across the room. Rainbow Dash’s raucous snoring made it difficult to discern at first, but after she rolled over and mashed herself into her pillow, it became all too apparent that we weren’t the only ones still awake.
“Subject Z, albeit true designation is unknown, converses with Subject R on a variety of topics, some of which provides perspicuous insight into Subject Z’s mysterious origins. Subject Z altruistically offers to help Subject R’s younger sibling with scholastic endeavors” An academic voice murmured just above the lower limits of my hearing.
I twisted my head to speak in her direction, “Subject Z also possesses an incredible aural faculty range. Go. To. Sleep. Twilight” I commanded in a no nonsense tone. Twilight let out a surprised yelp and expeditiously buried herself underneath the many layers of her sleeping bag and extinguished whatever light she was using to illuminate her notes.
Rarity and I shared a lighthearted chuckle before settling back into our ‘beds’ ourselves. Her distraction proved beneficial in taking my mind off my earlier enviousness. Before long my eyes drooped shut, with the transition to blissful sleep soon to follow in its wake. I was gladdened that I strategically picked a spot by the eastern end of the tree base, where it would prove impossible for my least favorite waking call to occur. I smirked a little before succumbing to my dreams.
‘I’d like to see the Sun try to blind me awake this time around!’
⁂
A light shining directly on my face rudely pried me out of my sleep.
“Gah! What the heck!?” I cried out, bracing my arms against my eyes in an effort to stave off the vile light.
“Shh! Not so loud! You might wake the others” Twilight hushed me, “C’mon, get up! I want to show you something” The blasted light cut out, as did Twilight’s magic while she lowered her hand, where a wavering glow could be seen fading out of her fingertips.
‘Great, if it’s not sunlight being the cause of my rude awakenings, it’s some other form of light’ I can’t ever catch a break, it seems.
I stifled a yawn as I sat upright, “All right, all right. Let me just recuperate for a moment” I told her, smacking my lips together.
“This had better be good Twilight” I groused, rubbing the sand out my eyelids.
She giggled at my display, “Oh trust me, will you? I promise that you’ll get a good kick out of this” She assured me with confidence.
“I’ll hold you to that” I muttered as I stood on my feet and looked around to survey my surroundings.
The dawn hadn’t yet arrived, but I could feel that the sun would be rising soon enough. Everyone else was still asleep for the most part, though I could see that Applejack had already come around (years of getting up at dawn to do farm work tends to ingrain that in you) and was just snoozing until she had an official reason to stir herself from her catnap. Rarity’s sleeping bag had mysteriously migrated close to mine and I had an inkling that if I had remained a half hour or so longer, then she would have inadvertently tried to suffocate me with her bulk (Not that I’d ever phrase it aloud that way in her presence). There were indistinct vocalizations emanating from Pinkie’s sealed up bag, like she was talking in her sleep, or at least I hoped that’s what it was. Fluttershy on the other hand, didn’t make so much as a peep as she slumbered between Rainbow Dash (who was still giving off the impression of sawing away at wood with her congested breathing) and myself. I tore my vision away from her, still feeling a little bit irked at how she had fulfilled one of my secret fears. She genuinely liked each of the digital films she saw last night, but it was more of the principle of the thing that got to me.
“Are you going to just stand there?” Came Twilight’s almost impatient voice to my flank. She was standing by the door, looking about ready to tap her feet against the floor in irritation, but was restraining herself.
“I’m coming” I joined her outside, where she led me around the trunk to a sort of back yard area.
The first sight that attracted my notice was a flat table setup with a wooden base stand supporting a large dark grey ball of folded and mashed up pieces of paper with a identifying dimple on the northern hemisphere. It was sizable as well; over three meters in diameter and sculpted with intricate detail in mind. There were even a series of trenches lining the surface of the sphere!
I could hardly believe my eyes. Twilight had made a faithful to image, paper mache replica of the Death Star from last night’s movie.
“This is my take on that Death Star from last night!” Twilight spouted gleefully, “I couldn’t tell based on first glance what the actual scale factoring would be, but I’d estimate it to be at a three to the two hundred and sixteen thousand scale ratio! I spent the last thirty minutes before I woke you crafting it from a combination of memory and my notes on the motion picture!” She announced, circling her creation with an unmistakable glint of pride in her eyes.
I held my chin in my fingers as I appraised the crudely painted paper model of my favorite space station slash expeditionary battle planetoid, “You’re not quite correct in that scaling assumption, but incidentally you’re not incorrect either. But I can safely assert that the original is the size of a small moon”
“Oh, I forgot to write that down!” She blurted out as she thwacked a hand against her forehead, “But anyway, what do you think of it?” Twilight asked me in a hopeful tone.
That was a toughie. This was likely a foolhardy attempt by the bookworm to get back in my good graces, which I’d normally reprimand her for. However, because of the amount of effort that went into this duplication, which to me spoke volumes about the sincerity behind the gesture, I supposed to myself that I could overlook it. Just this once.
“I think…” I let hang in the air, for added suspense, “That you just bumped yourself up on my list of favorite people. Twilight”
The relief in her eyes was nearly palpable, “I’m so glad to hear that! Tell me. Out of curiosity, where does that place me on your list?”
I narrowed my eyes, “You don’t even make the top ten. Don’t push your luck, Twilight” I warned. She was still treading on thin ice around me as far as I was concerned.
She held her hands up in a placating fashion, “Right, right!” She said, before clapping her hands together and regarding her creation, “Imagine it though, a weapon capable of annihilating an Earth sized terrestrial planet in one fell swoop. I know I should be aghast at such a thing even existing in the realm of fancy, but I can’t help but wonder just how powerful it must be to do that” She audibly pondered. Luckily she had me to provide some erudite input.
“With the explosive expansion rate shown in the movie, it lies somewhere along the lines of two and a quarter multiplied by ten to the thirty second power in joules” Twilight whistled long and slow at the monumental number, “To put it into laymen’s perspective. That’s more energy than Celestia’s sun puts out in an entire week” I recited from my inner geek database of all things technical.
“Wow… it’s a good thing no such weapon exists huh?” She asked, giving me an odd sidelong glance.
“Not here, at least” I muttered, “Anyhow, you got the North and South Pole patterning all wrong. What did you even use to scratch in the designs, a shoddy stencil?” I grabbed a pencil from the table before unfolding a nearby tall stepladder to begin ‘fixing’ several mistakes that I felt needed to be rectified. A nagging part of me suspected that these mistakes were intentional and that Twilight was using them as an excuse for some bonding time between us, but I dismissed it as me being irrational.
We used our mutual liking of the Star Wars story world as a way to pass the time before Twilight’s friends were up and about. Twilight would ask about how such a space station of doom could possibly power itself and I would educate her in that fact that it had a hypermatter reactor, which used exotic tachyonic particles and constrained them inside of a reactor, where they would accelerate to infinite speeds in real space and that would generate the phenomenal amounts of energy necessary to reduce a life filled world like Alderaan into space dust.
It was a Monday, so I didn’t expect that anybody was going to be sleeping in too long. Fluttershy had to tend to her soon to be hibernating animal pals (which she invited me to assist her with because the animals had deemed me trustworthy in the past), Rarity had a sister she needed to deliver some uplifting news to, Rainbow Dash had her weather duties (that she would more than likely finish at the very last minute), Applejack had apple related chores at the orchard (big surprise, I know), and Pinkie Pie had parties to plan and confections to bake.
“How do you know so much about this anyway?” The bookworm asked me, as we sketched in additional details that she had glazed over, “It’s like you’re passionate about it!” She sounded legitimately surprised.
‘Hey! I can be passionate about some things!’ I took offense to her mild shock. This girl had much yet to learn about me. We might as well start with this.
“Twilight, if there’s one thing you should know about me. It’s that I am a Star Wars fan boy at heart, through and through. Just like how you possess a love of books, I retain a love for all subjects relating to the universe depicted in that movie and others like it” I carefully explained to her.
“So much about you I don’t know…” She spoke under her breath to herself, “And you’ve memorized even the smallest of minutiae about this?” She looked at me in mixed awe and bafflement from her position a few feet removed from me.
My hand ceased its movement for a moment, “Well, no one can be perfectly knowledgeable about a subject. But yeah, I’d say I come close to memorizing even the most pointless minutiae” I began to poke in dots on the surface of the papery sphere to simulate where the turbolaser towers would be.
I heard a noisy yawn erupt from behind us, “Hey, you two” Rainbow’s voice greeted us and fluctuated in pitch as she conducted morning stretches, “What in the world is that thing?”
Twilight regarded her friend with barely concealed exasperation, “Rainbow! Are you telling us that you weren’t paying attention during last night’s film? This is a mock up of that Death Star!”
Rainbow snorted and shook her head, “And the first thing you do is recreate it the very next morning? You two are such nerds”
“I dispute that classification!” My face scrunched together in insult, “I happen to have passable social skills for your information. Why are you being so critical anyway? Are saying that you didn’t enjoy that badass trench run with the X-wings or the flashy lightsaber duels?” I jabbed at her. I remember that she was second only to Twilight in how glued to my laptop screen she was, doubly so once the swashbuckling action kicked in.
“Yeah, it was all right, I guess…” She folded her arms across each other and peered the other way, “A shame that was the only one, though. I might have gotten into it if it were a series like the Daring Do novels”
I grunted with self assurance, “Huh! You’ll be thrilled to know that it’s a trilogy then, won’t you?” I would keep the prequel version under wraps for now, the newer trio just couldn’t command the same magic as the classic set.
“Really!?” Rainbow Dash exclaimed with visible excitement before catching herself and feigning disinterest, “That’s cool then. I might have to crash at your place to see the rest in that case”
My face contorted, knowing her record with rough landings all too well, “So long as you don’t take it too literally. I’m uncertain if my place is insured against forced entrances” I remarked with a chortle. Now that I think about it, I doubt my home in the sky was insured against anything.
“Whatever” She expressed with a slight scowl, “Anyways, I gotta dash. See you nerds later!” With that, she took off before I could get in a retort edgewise.
“Gotta dash? Seriously? Truly… Rainbow’s humility is astounding to bear witness to” I swayed my head side to side in riled acceptance before resuming with my sketch work on the uneven exterior.
“She’s gotten better in all actuality. Especially since the costumed ne’er do well incident” Twilight said to me, before putting the finishing touches on her portion of the sphere and sighing, “It’s a shame that I don’t have space in my library to store this, and crumpled paper never did react well to shrinking spells. I expect that I’ll have to dispose of it later” She regretfully told me.
“Trash it the boring mundane way? Do this miniature Death Star some justice Twilight! Drag it out to an empty field and explode the hell out of it!” I bombastically suggested as I hopped down from the stepladder to head back inside.
Twilight cringed as she joined me, “That seems a bit violent and excessive, doesn’t it?”
She stared back like I contracted a bad case of the crazies, “Okay… I’ll just detonate it then, happy?”
“Very” I replied in complete seriousness, before waving to a departing Applejack.
Inside the library, I found that most of Twilight’s friends had awoken and left to get back to their own lives, with one exception. A drowsy looking Rarity was in the kitchen making use of Twilight’s coffee supply. Because she forwent proper sleepwear and didn’t apply any pre-sleep implements, her hair was messier than I’d ever seen it (Not that it made her any rougher on the eyes). In the company of friends though, she didn’t seem to fuss over it as much. The pale, almost chalk like, powdery complexion of her skin made her appearance similar to a wraith in the light of the dawning sun. Her dress shirt was unbuttoned down the second stud and her eyes had imperceptible drooping bags under them. Rarity in the morning was a far cry from her usual self. Not that I minded.
“Morning sleeping beauty!” I addressed her as she nursed at her mug of caffeinated beverage, “How was your rest?” I inquired as I grabbed a loaf of bread of butter from the pantry nook and sat myself at the table.
“I could do with some make up, dear. But thank you for taking an interest in my well being” She said as she took large (and some might claim ‘unladylike’) gulps.
“You look fine to me” I regarded her with a raised eyebrow while I sliced up the loaf with a butter knife, “But I suppose that next time you should focus on getting some shut eye instead of needling me before bedtime” I criticized her as I took a sizable chomp out of my breakfast.
Rarity face was a rictus of distaste as flecks of bread crust were ejected out from my lips, which wasn’t really my fault since I always chew with my trap shut. Secretly, I was hoping that with displays like this, I could dissuade her from trying her chances with me romantically. Rarity meant well and was a beautiful woman like so many others I’ve come to know, but there was something about her that just screamed ‘high maintenance drama queen that brews up her own stress and has the gall to whine about it’ personality type that just repulsed me. At times I wondered if my consent in dating her was merely a façade, or if I was challenging myself to overlook a person’s worst in order to see them at their best as an ulterior motive.
She fluttered her natural length eyelashes at me innocently, “I was not needling you, Zenith. Merely satisfying my curiosity. I also recall that it served a practical purpose, for you did agreed to help my sister and her friends with their school project”
I all but slapped my forehead at the reminder, “That’s right! I still need to come up with some deeper thought provoking material. What time do I need to be at the school house?”
She huffed as she exhaled a breath across the steaming cup, “Be there no later than midday, and be sure to inform Miss Cheerilee what you intend to do also. I’ll be eagerly awaiting my sister’s no doubt contented report on your assistance” She made it overtly clear that she would be using this as a means for evaluating my worth. It kind of irked me, but I wasn’t doing this for her, so it could be overlooked as far as I cared.
I levitated my bag of belongings in from the adjacent room, “I best start conducting my research now then, eh?” Was my muffled response, thanks to a buttered roll of bread wedged between my teeth.
I retrieved my laptop from its carrying satchel and flipped it open, the home screen bright and welcoming as always. Rarity watched the device chime with the same rapt attention as the previous night. With a few flicks of my finger, I was online and perusing the search results from multiple websites. I still had no clue as to how my computer was able to connect when it no longer occupied my routered desk at home (to say nothing of the infinite recharge cycle. Perhaps the magically saturated atmosphere passively pumped energy into the batteries?), but it was times like these when I didn’t really care about this baffling providence. Rarity left not long after, off to bring the news of my decision to her sister and rekindle the flames of hope in her young heart (There’s me waxing poetic again).
Within a few minutes of browsing, I had compiled a number of neat ideas that would require some household items and a special solidified gas that I was betting that Twilight had in her science oriented article storage. I wrote down what I’d need on a scrap of lined paper and tore it away from the pad before rummaging through the kitchen cabinets to collect the items I would need. Twilight was amicable enough to see where I was going with my plan and granted me access to her basement stock room, along with a specialized baggie to store the chunks of solidified gas that were kept in a freezer bin. Once I had accumulated everything and stored it in a crate that I found in the kitchen, I stood back and scanned my mental checklist for any discrepancies.
“Hmm…” I tapped at my chin with one of my digits. Once it came to me, I snapped them together with an audible click, “That’s it! I’m lacking a cheesy outfit to complete the image!”
“You need an outfit for your school presentation?” Twilight asked me, addle eyed and with a spoonful of cereal in her maw.
“Well I don’t need it, but I’d like to have one” I clarified, before staring at her, “Say… you wouldn’t happen to have a lab coat and simulacrum of Starswirl the bearded’s pointy wizard hat, would you?”
Twilight’s eyes traced lines in the ceiling as she ran inventory in her head, “I might… hold tight for a minute”
She left to go fetch me what I sought, returning exactly a minute later with an immaculate white cotton coat in one hand. In the other hand lay a navy blue, pointed wizard’s hat with golden bells stitched into the brim and on the tip. Crescent moons, blazing comets, and twinkling stars were emblazoned on its velvety construction. It was by all definitions, the spitting image of a wizard’s hat.
“This is my personal duplicate of my long time role model’s famous headwear. Enchanted to match the original incarnation that it was based off of to the best of my ability” She handled it almost reverently in her grasp, “I expect that it will be returned in the selfsame condition?” Her fingers caressed the brim, tingling the bells attached to it and filling the air with a mysterious jingle that silenced all other sounds in its coming and wake.
“Circumstances permitting, I intend to” I answered in heedful honesty, not really understanding her unease. It’s not like I was taking it with me on some grand journey of self discovery. That would be ridiculously insipid… not to mention tiresome.
“Then I feel much better about loaning this out to you” She said, casting her eyes to the side and offering it to me. Some part of my mind drew parallels between her surrendering her first born with how hesitant she was to part with the ornately embellished piece of clothing.
“Relax, Twilight. I’ll bring it right back as soon as the school gig is done” I took it and sat it atop my noggin, where it somehow struggled to mold around my larger cranium (Form fitted for Twilight in mind, I’ll bet). I was about to snidely quip about it having a tight fit when I felt the rim of the hat expand and proceed to devour a fourth of my skull before it gradually accepted its new bearer.
‘Huh… some useful enchantments, indeed’ Starswirl was without a doubt a very resourceful fellow if he actually foresaw the need for others to don his signature headgear.
“Huh…” Twilight echoed my thoughts, though with different reasoning, “I’d say that hat suits you. And not only because you have more magic flowing through you than most Archmagi could ever dream of achieving within their lifetimes” She spoke factually, and without an iota of envy in her voice. The bookworm was being purely objective about it.
I shifted my head to the side, the bells on the hat jangling in response, “I didn’t exactly earn that attribute. For curiosity’s sake though, why else then?”
“Your affinity with spell-work itself of course!” She replied, elucidating further when I arched a brow questioningly, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your conjuring trick with that audio emitting projection sphere that you seamlessly envisioned and brought to life when we dusted the shelves in the library together. That’s an on the fly, innovative feat that only the great Starswirl was ever known for” She sent me her accolades, flicking an index finger at me in emphasis.
“It’s simply designated as the Sound Sphere. But thanks for the compliment” I tried to give her my best impression of a smile… I really did, “Anyways… midday will arrive sooner than we might expect. I should probably get going. See ya Twi!” I bid her farewell as I took hold of the coat and buttoned it on while I departed the library with my crate of simplistic science goodies in tow. The coat was larger than I would have guessed, probably a ‘one size fits all’ item that would seem big on shorter people and a tad constricted on taller folk like myself.
The town of Magiville was only half awake as I meandered between thatched houses and shops with my levitated container behind me. This time of year, most people were just shoring up for an extremely brief, but chilly winter interval. Chattered opinions about the upcoming period of snowfall were mixed from what my ears were picking up. The adults looked at it as a necessary encumbrance that came once a year, while their little ones saw it as a chance to have snowball fights, drink hot chocolate, and partake in other kinds of quaint winter activities. Thinking back, I would likely be in the latter of the two general opinions. I loved the snow, even though it was a physical impossibility to see it naturally occur in the Mediterranean climate where I had lived. The few locations it could thrive were in the higher altitudes of the mountain ranges of my state, where my family and I would infrequently visit. I subconsciously straightened out the collar of my coat as I began to sense more eyes on me for my strange choice of attire. Quickening my already considerable pace, I hightailed it to the western end of town and blocked out the disparaging comments that were hardly supposed to affect me at all in the first place. I sincerely hoped that I wasn’t turning native out from under my own nose.
I arrived at the schoolhouse with about an hour or two to spare before Sweetie Belle and her friends were supposed to submit their assignment. The place of learning itself was a reddish color like the kind in the stereotypes that I was picturing in my head, though that was where most of the similarities ended. It was femininely designed, with garish pink hearts decorating the arches hanging over the windows and on the exterior molding. Curlicues of varying complexity were carved into the walls and even etched into the roofing shingles. They were features that I’d noticed a lot of other buildings in this land had in common. Albeit, given the greatly skewed gender ratio of this country, it wasn’t far fetched to deduce that most of the architects it employed were female.
Moving on from the estrogen inspired wooden sculpting. I twisted my head to take in the sight of everything else. An eggshell white picket fence lined either side of the dirt path leading to and from the building’s perimeter for many meters (I surmised that it was for ensuring that the rowdiest wayward children would know their boundaries and not wander off). There was a striped, dual rotating tetherball pole planted into the earth next to some swing sets and a seesaw on the left side of the schoolhouse, presumably for recess time. It was odd to me that no children could be seen at play during this hour, though perhaps the school systems here functioned under a different timetable. A wooden welcoming sign that depicted an open book with light streaming down from above was nestled in front of me in its own stone planter, while artistically trimmed bushes resided near it and close to the school’s personal flagpole. A smallish banner that one would recognize as the twin Sun and Moon emblem of Arcania, flapped and flew in the morning breeze at the summit.
‘Such an American style school building, and yet the banner it flies under belongs to that of an oligarchical kingdom’ I mused to myself. I was by no means harboring any brand of dissent towards their most Royal Highnesses, but to see a symbolic structure like that operating at their majesties’ leisure felt… like a perversion of sorts to the ideals I’ve always upheld.
The sound of the bell ringing three times in its tower steeple broke me out of my random ponderings. The doors burst open and I could make out the chattering of excited children flocking out of the classroom and away from the school in droves as they pushed past me (Some of the impudent snot nosed imps had the chutzpah to make mocking remarks about my hat in passing). They were a lot younger than I had presumed them to be, barely ten years at the most. It then occurred to me that a system of differing times for the different grade levels would have to be in effect, since the town only had a single school building and a scarcity of teachers to staff it. Even before I officially met with her, I had a lot of respect for Cheerilee for taking on that kind of intense workload.
The woman in question was standing by the doorway at the top of the steps and waving to several of her students as they made their way home with a smile gracing her features. As a rule, I have never approved of children peregrinating anywhere without a trusted supervisor watching over them like a hawk (For both their safety and everyone else’s in the catastrophic case of the Mana Mark Maidens). They weren’t my kids though, so their homecoming arrangements weren’t really any of my concern. Weaving through the last remnants of the jumping juveniles, I made my way towards her.
“Morning!” I called out to her, “Are you Magiville’s esteemed children’s instructor?”
“Oh!” She expressed in mild surprise, somehow missing the plenitude of my bulk skulking about the school grounds. Sometimes I feel as if I can be a bit too stealthy for my own good.
She recovered quickly and turned her head to deal with me, “Why, yes I am. Though that’s a title I rarely hear from anybody” She tittered. Her voice was nurturing, like that of a mother, and her eyes sparkled with a laughing joy that was all but infectious in its fervor. Big Mac should consider himself a lucky man to have intimate connections with such a woman.
She stuck her hand out to me, which I gently shook, noting the moisturized softness of her palms. A Mana mark showing a trio of smiling generic flowers were magically stamped on the flip side. I idly wondered why she was a schoolteacher and not a gardener, but contemplated nothing more of it. This ‘Mana mark corresponding with your life’s calling’ business never did properly compute with me.
“What brings you by? I mean no offense when I say this, but you seem a tad young to be the parent of any of my students” She asked me as she gestured me inside, to which I obliged and crossed over the threshold.
The interior of the aged (though not worn) schoolhouse had a… talent fostering atmosphere I would say. The air was warm and smelt of books and chalk dust from the blackboard, but was not stuffy due to a slanted window allowing for some circulation, since ceiling fans apparently weren’t an established invention here. The walls had several posters and papers thumbtacked onto them, displaying crude art works or excellently written essays about what made the country of Arcania so special in big, bold, and colorful letters. Portraits of Celestia and Luna smiled and neutrally regarded all those who gazed upon them respectively, twisting the knife that there was some subtle indoctrination going on in this place of learning.
Shelves lined with textbooks encompassed the corners of the room, on their tops were a myriad of objects like globes of the planet (mostly mapped out), telescopes, microscopes, and a gigantic hourglass for a sense of novelty, given the clock that was ticking away above the blackboard. It seemed as if there were only enough books on the shelves for the classroom’s occupants to share amongst themselves instead of take home to study there. It really did remind one of the olden days when schools took on an appearance that was touched by the students who had attended there.
Creaky wooden floorboards bore the weight of several rows of nineteenth century bench desks that had folding seats, about twenty in all. I withheld a grimace once I realized that they would offer no back support to the poor youngsters that sat in them. I could never see the appeal of such a brutal design. Was it to force children to pay attention and not doze off during lectures? If so, then I was gladdened that I was raised in an era of forward thinking and lumbar cushioning. I immediately felt stupid when I saw how the desks were lined up so that the flat portion would coincide with the chair behind it like pieces of an uncomplicated puzzle. The ceiling wasn’t terribly high, so I had to mind my head when moving about, lest I bump into a random article like a terra-centric model orrery of the Sun and Moon orbiting the Earth hanging by threads.
I returned my awareness to the two toned pink and white haired teacher, “None taken. And I do not wish to insult, but I’ll make it plain as day when I say that I didn’t drop by for the mere purposes of socializing” I absently answered, brushing my hand against the teacher’s desk, feeling the individual grains as I levitated my crate of supplies over to rest upon it.
“I could deduce as much, given your… intriguing choice of attire and that container you’ve brought with you” She sounded like she wanted to describe my outfit as something less than savory, but held back for the sake of tact. How polite of her.
“That’s for the presentation I’m to conduct by midday’s time. The one concerning your assigned work for a trio of young girls who’ve yet to discover their Mana marks?” I clued her in.
It clicked in her head once I alluded to the Maidens, “Oh! Well why didn’t you say so?” She hummed in afterthought, “I don’t recall specifying this as group work, however” She verbalized with a frown.
“Did you specify against it?” I counter questioned, anticipating this impediment. If it didn’t work, then at least Sweetie Belle and I would be even.
“Well… no, I didn’t” She admitted with a slight outlogicked slump, before her shoulders hitched back up in agitation, “But I’d expect my students to comprehend implicit meaning by now” She said, crossing her arms together in minor annoyance.
I scoffed, “Try telling that to the politicians, or the news press” I scathingly wisecracked in reply.
Her eyes widened in dismay, “If you referring to the Gabby Gums incident, I assure you that it was mainly a student led endeavor and I did not expect it to get out of hand the way it did!” Her tone was apologetically frantic. She more than likely received a lot of heat for that from the community.
“Relax, I do not hold you accountable for their misuse of civil liberties…” I sympathized, “Who would have thought that Evelyn had pink hair this entire time!” I joked with a fake gasp that I covered up with a hand. I would act the part of the forgiving fool if it meant that Cheerilee would stay cheery, because I’m a nice guy like that.
Cheerilee calmed down as she laughed at my theatrics (made all the more laughable by my ludicrous clothes, no doubt), “Don’t let her catch you saying that. The Mayor is quite sensitive about that tidbit of information. I heard that she never did manage to put an effective spin on it in the town’s formal and accredited gossip column”
I smirked at how they legitimized printed libel here too, “I will definitely shy away from doing so, Miss Cheerilee”
She humbly wagged a hand at face level, “Oh please, just Cheerilee will do” She then inhaled sharply, “Mercy me! I haven’t even asked you your name yet!”
“No need to work yourself up about it. I’m Zenith” I bowed with a Sith salutation to her in formal introduction.
“Zenith…” She uttered as she scoured her memory banks, “Were you the one that Pinkie threw a welcoming party for in Applejack’s barn at the acres?”
“The very same” I nodded sagely, “Unless you know any other Zeniths” I remarked offhand, “So how will these presentations work? Is there a list of students who go first?” I asked, wanting to know how I’d fit into this.
She deliberated on the matter, “This is all so very last minute… so I believe it best that you go last” She dictated to me, “Will it be an informative presentation? It’s not a stage show I’m running here, you know” She joked with a suppressed giggle.
“I think you’ll find it to be a little different than what you’re used to. But it will educative none the less” I responded, shrouding the crate with a shawl that was stuffed into one of my lab coat’s pockets. This was done so no one would be tempted to tamper with the materials kept within.
Cheerilee glanced at the hands of the clock hanging above the blackboard, “It will be at least another half hour before the children are due to arrive. Would you mind assisting me in preparing the room for them in the meantime, please?” She made to enlist my services.
“Gladly” I agreed, wanting to make myself useful until it came time to shine.
So Cheerilee had me place and stack books in the baskets beneath the desk seats, cover the surfaces with lined paper, and other mundane pre-class setup work for the remainder of the half hour. At the ten minute mark before class would be officially in session, Cheerilee pulled a lever near her desk connected to a network of ropes and pulleys. I felt a mechanism above us grind and crank before the bell rung out and signaled everyone within hearing range that school was about to begin anew. A looksee out the windows would reveal small groups of older children converging on the grounds, happy to stultified expressions ranging on their faces. I scanned their ranks to see if I could pick out the three that I would essentially be championing for, picking them out at the rear echelon.
Sweetie Belle had a nearly relieved air about her as evidenced by the healthy bounce in her step, while her two companions seemed more downtrodden. Had Sweetie Belle not told them in order to keep it a surprise? That’s just cold. They each carried their school supplies in single strap bags and satchels that had lunch boxes hanging from them by strings. It made me wonder why backpacks or rucksacks weren’t more ubiquitous.
“Could you wait in the back please? There should be a bench next to the literary works shelf that you can sit on” Cheerilee requested of me.
I nodded silently in assent and walked towards the back of the classroom to the aforementioned bench positioned in between the curtains. I pulled out a random book from a shelf to occupy myself with as the students filed in through the door. I took off my hat and put it aside as I sat down to scrutinize the features of the hard cover. My eyebrows automatically rose up as I read the name of the author on the bottom, printed preposterously as ‘Check-off’.
‘No way…’ I promptly flipped it open and began to rapidly digest everything written within, paying only a minimal amount of attention to what was going on outside of my ‘sphere of solitude’.
I idly registered the sounds of footfalls against the floor as the children shuffled inside and made for their desks. I saw one or two stare at me in confusion from my peripheral vision, but did not let their vision linger for long. More than a few of them held trays, dioramas, or other manner of displays to showcase their projects in front of class. I swapped glances between the pages and class environment when I felt it prudent so I could stay aware of the goings on around me. The Maidens’ eyes practically lit up when they saw me, and they came rushing to the back rows to plop their keisters down where they were closest to me, indicating that there was no pre-assigned seating arrangement.
“Good afternoon my precious pupils!” Cheerilee welcomed them with a genuine, heartfelt smile, “I trust that each of you enjoyed a good weekend?” A general murmur in the affirmative answered her.
She clapped her hands together, “Excellent! As you all know, today is when we demonstrate our knowledge of subjects that we may or may not have learned in class” There were some collective groans from the less prepared and or enthusiastic students, but most of them seemed happy to share what they knew with their peers.
Cheerilee gestured to a redheaded, curly haired girl with thick rimmed glasses in the first row seat directly in front of her, “Twist? Would you like to go first?” She proposed to the nerdy appearing tween.
“I’d love to, Miss Cheerilee!” She spoke with a noticeable speech impediment, as if she had serious nasal congestion. She got up from her seat and carried her tray to forefront of the room where she set it on the teacher’s desk. On it were candy canes of various stripes and coloration. I could hear the smacking of lips as some of her hungrier classmates began fixing their eyes on the sweets that she bore with her.
“As some of you know, not that long ago I discovered my calling!” She exclaimed happily, flashing one of her hands to exhibit her crossed peppermint candy canes in the shape of a heart, “Anyhow, since that time I’ve been resuming my apprenticeship under Miss Bon Bon and assisting her in and around her candy shop”
“Fascinating!” Cheerilee seemed legitimately interested, “And tell us, what will you be showing the class today?”
The young girl did not answer right away, “A lot of people come into the shop to satisfy their sweet tooth, and my custom made candy canes are often one of the higher selling items” Twist explained with some confectioner’s pride, “But most of them have no idea how the tasty treats they buy are made, so today I’m going to tell you all about the means for making candy canes! First you’ll need to mix some sugar, water, and corn syr-…”
Her voice became little more than white noise as I tuned her out. Not out of blatant disinterest precisely, but I had watched a television program back home detailing this particular process, so hearing how they made it on a smaller scale wasn’t all that appealing to listen in to. I found Check-off’s literary short story works to be much more fascinating, especially with how closely they mirrored his Russian counterpart.
“Psst!” Came Sweetie Belle’s not so subtle, surreptitious beckoning, “Zenith!”
“Hmm…?” I absently hummed as I dabbed my tongue with a finger for better traction and turned a page.
“My sister told me that you were coming to our rescue!” She whispered with a smile.
“Did she use those exact words?” I replied just as quietly, my eyes sweeping across the pages instead of meeting hers.
“Well… no, but you knew what I was getting at” Her smile sagged, my distant, almost clinically cold attitude likely dragging her down, “The Mana Mark Maidens appreciate this noble gesture, and our memory is long. Are you sure you don’t want to join our organization?” Her voice squeaked in offer.
I closed the book and flopped it on my lap with a slow exhalation of breath, “For the last time Sweetie Belle, I am neither a maiden, nor am I interested in receiving a Mana mark. I’m more than happy (‘Quite the opposite, really’) to watch over you and your friends as you try out different activities for the sake of discovering your destiny… but please, keep me out of it!” I tiredly urged her, having had this invitation extended to me on several different occasions in the past.
“Okay…” The girl’s fingers anxiously gripped the back of her chair, “But if you ever change your mind, the girls and I would love to initiat-”
“Sweetie Belle!” Cheerilee called out reproachfully, causing her to yelp and jump in her seat, “It’s very rude to disregard your fellow students when they’re talking, especially when they’re going through the trouble of presenting us with their passions” She admonished her.
“Sorry Miss Cheerilee, sorry Twist” Sweetie murmured dejectedly, both of whom nodded their acceptance of her apology before Twist fittingly resumed making twisting motions of her hands to simulate the procedure behind the striping of the candy cane. Some students were even taking notes like knowledge hungry intellectuals, which I found rather admirable for their age.
Sweetie Belle was not the only one who should have been keeping their eyes turned forward. Apple bloom and Scootaloo frequently snuck peeps back at me with questions manifesting in their eyes that Sweetie Belle refused to yield to them. Two others still were mutedly chatting about the ‘weird visitor in the back’ and making derisive observations about me with no rhyme or reason. I’ll give you one good guess as to who they might have been. I haven’t even spoken to them yet, and already I was growing an aversion to the ‘better than you cause I’m rich’ girls sporting the ostentatious jewelry on their hands.
Twist concluded her instructionally vague demonstration with a little bit of advertisement snuck in, bribing her classmates with free samples of her products (Or less cynically, she was simply being generous with older, reject candy that wasn’t sold and was going to be tossed out anyway). The next up was a short and tubby kid who introduced himself as Truffle Shuffle. This unassuming lad pontificated about the finer points of what made for exquisite cuisine using skillful terminology and methodology that was frankly unexpected by everybody, as evidenced by the several dropped jaws from his associated classmates and a knowing smile that threatened to split Cheerilee’s face apart. Following his esoteric act was a girl solely named Archer, whose lightly shaded purple eyes settled on me for a few too many seconds. They glinted with something I could narrowly identify as a need to inquire about some subject that only I would have the faintest inkling about, though it bothered me that I only had conjectures as to what that might be. She went on about a topic that unusually did not directly relate to her Mana mark talent, which was depicted as a drawn back golden bow and arrow. She explicated on the dynamics of wind affecting the trajectory of a projectile (known to me as external ballistics), be it a gliding bird, a thrown rock, or predictably… an arrow shaft in flight, using charts and graphs that she had drawn up herself.
‘Goodness me. There’s going to be some tough acts to follow here’ I had to admit that the intelligence that Cheerilee’s pupils were exemplifying so far was nothing short of remarkable.
The steady passage of time proved otherwise, however. The consecutive presentations after the strange girl were more lackluster in quality (I made an exception for the one about pirates though, since its shorty of a speaker did an excellent job of dressing up as someone resembling a dwarf version of Jack Sparrow), and failed to capture and hold my interest for more than thirty seconds. In the intervals between interesting, well thought out projects, I entertained myself with Check-off’s take on The Lady with the Dog, finding it to be mostly identical with the exclusion of the locale names, the embankment scene, and the implied shameful adultery.
And while I hated to do it, I additionally forced myself to listen in on Diamond Tiara and her brown nosing friend Silver Spoon’s presentations, both of which were too well done (mostly stuff about economics with supply and demand mixed in. They orated succinctly and orotundly, as if they were giving a dictation) and orchestrated to have been of their own making. The flash cards that they often peeked at before moving on to the next sentence were also a dead give away that they were half assing it at best. Cheerilee’s expression skirted the line dividing being accustomed to this behavior and flat out disappointment that it happened none the less. But I could figure out that there wasn’t much she could do on her end to discourage it, beyond arranging futile parent teacher meetings that wouldn’t amount to anything. I couldn’t tell what the Mana Mark Maidens were thinking regarding their adversaries’ pompousness, as their backs were turned to me and they made no bodily shifts that would indicate their mood whatsoever.
“Thank you, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon for that… informative lecture on why Barnyard Bargains and Sterling Silver’s Metallurgist’s Market have a corner on the grander market at large” Cheerilee’s ability to act shone brightly as she successfully feigned gratitude for her most troublesome student’s clear slacking on this assignment.
“Uh huh. Hope it was as boring for you as it was for us to rehearse” Diamond disrespectfully commented as she and her friend returned to their seats, “Beat that, bland hands. Even you even have something to show us, that is” They sneered at the Maidens, two of whom shrunk back hopelessly, while the third was smugly unaffected. This hostility went unnoticed by Cheerilee, but not by me, adding to my increasing dislike of them.
“And last but not least…” The instructor announced, her eyes roaming towards me.
“Wait, Miss Cheerilee!” Apple bloom interjected as she held up her hand, “I brought a gift! A Pink Lady fresh from the orchard for your tasting pleasure!” She pulled out an apple so thoroughly polished that it had a mirror shine. She ran up to the desk and placed it next to a basket filled with student homework that was pending an official grade.
I rolled my eyes, ‘Why am I not surprised to find out that Apple bloom is an apple shiner? Wait… Actually I shouldn’t think that, she might have a distant, obsequious relative named as such for all I know’ I wish I could say that I was joking. The Apple family tree’s roots were that vast.
Cheerilee’s smile became lopsidedly bemused, “I appreciate the gift, Apple bloom. Even if you didn’t need to do that for me. I bought more than enough pecks worth of fruit from Big Macintosh just last week at the market”
“I know Miss Cheerilee, ah was there helpin’ him remember? Still, it’s the thought that counts… right?” Apple bloom said with a nervous chuckle.
The teacher’s smile regained its former splendor, “It does” She concurred, “Our last presentation involves a guest speaker. As I’m sure many of you have worked out for yourselves” She pointed out. The more oblivious students swiveled their heads to look in my direction and were taken aback by my presence, which came as a shock to them.
“Zenith here has valiantly offered to represent three of your fellow students in class, taking time out of his busy schedule to stand before us today. So how about we give him a nice, warm Magiville welcome!” She began clapping, an action that was gradually copied by her underling slash pupils. I liked how she inflated it so it would appear as if I was more saintly than I actually was.
I grasped at the wizard’s hat by my side and stood up, some of the students gasping at my impressive height as I strode to the front of the room. Many of them were whispering among themselves as I lifted the crate next to the desk by the handles and set it down of the flat surface.
I faced the instructor of Magiville’s youth as she sequestered herself to the side, “Do you mind if I use your desk for this? I promise that none of your things will be affected. The sheet covering this serves a dual purpose in that regard” I requested permission, which I was granted with a downward bob of her head.
Clearing the table of obstacles, I uncovered the crate and utilized the same sheet to wrap over it, setting up my supplies last. Some students leaned up in their chairs to get a better view of what I had to offer, most of them frowning when they saw nothing out of the ordinary. I resisted a smirk at the preliminary, unenthused reactions. Man, were they in for a surprise.
I addressed the classroom assembly loudly, projecting my voice in such a way that even the kids who thought they could nod off in the back would be tricked into thinking that I was standing right next to them, “Good afternoon, youngsters. As was previously mentioned, today I’ll be speaking on behalf of a trio of endearing lassies who are still in the process of discovering who they are talent wise… you’ll get there one day, I promise!” Apple bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo all perked themselves up from my encouragement, “Your wonderful teacher here already did a bang up job of telling you all my name, so I’ll skip the introductions and get right to the good stuff”
I straightened out my coat and donned my pointy hat before bowing to my audience with a flourish of my hand, “Boys, Girls… and Lady” I grinned at ‘Cheery’ as Mac had affectionately nicknamed her during our guy talks, “I present to you… Magic-less Magic Tricks!” I waited a beat before deadpanning, “Alternatively known as Household Science”
I don’t know why, but for some reason my mind kept conjuring up mental scenes of Twilight busting the door down with a manic gleam in her eye, before asking in an excessively creepy voice ‘Did somebody say science?’. A shiver crept up my spine as my consciousness restored itself to the present moment. I had the strangest tangential thoughts sometimes.
I kept a close eye on my audience, gauging their opinions based on their facial expressions alone. Right now they were the consistency of half and half. One side was unimpressed off the bat, while the other side wanted to see where this was going.
“A quick disclaimer” I put out just to be cautious, “Don’t reattempt any of the tricks I’m about to display without strict parental supervision” I did a short double take, figuring that their parents would be just as unknowledgeable to this, “In fact, it’s best if you don’t recreate any of these stunts at all”
A student with sandy brown hair raised her hand (which had a vintage handheld mirror on it as a Mana mark), to which I motioned for her to speak, “Why not? Is it dangerous? I really like your hat by the way!” She graciously complimented me offhand.
I nodded, pleased at her spirit of inquisitiveness, “Thank you! And it can be hazardous to work with dry ice, yes. If handled improperly, you can get a nasty frostbite or asphyxiation from carbon dioxide buildup” I fanned at nothing with a hand, “But both of those can be easily avoided by wearing gloves and working in a well ventilated area” I jabbed a finger to the open window that was letting in a slight draft of wind, “That’s one of two already covered” I pulled out the gloves from the crate and put them on, “And that takes care of the second precaution”
Diamond Tiara tore her gaze away from the window and spoke up without raising her hand, “While this is all very fascinating, what is this supposed to teach us?”
“That’s a good question, Diamond Tiara” I replied with a fake smile, “Simply put. I’m going to show you that not all observable wonders stem from the usage of magic itself” I told her, unsealing the baggie with the dry ice pellets stored inside and pinching one in my fingers for examination.
“And you’re going to prove this by showing us ice cubes? Right…” She snorted, clearly skeptical.
I continued, undaunted by her poor attitude, “Not just any old ice cubes. Dry ice cubes” I corrected, though from her upturned nose, she would have none of it.
I began allocating my science supplies like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that would soon be fitted together to create a beautiful picture. I dropped a hefty amount of pellets in a round glass bowl, before pouring a jug of water that I warmed with a flash heating spell when everyone was distracted by looking at the window that I intentionally misdirected their attention at. The water went to work at dissolving the pellets, resulting in a white smoky mist that started to froth up and lick at the rims of its container. I could hear the student’s breath hitching as they witnessed this. I was quite drawn in myself the first time I saw the ghostly fog that dry ice was capable of producing.
“Neat, isn’t it?” I saw many heads bob their awed agreement, “Want to see what happens when you put a bubble over it?” I grinningly suggested, getting the same wordless acknowledgment.
“Using ordinary water and dish detergent” I pulled out a liquid measuring cup filled with the mixture, “I can take this strip of cloth, dip it in the cup until all of its surface area is fully soaked, before doing this…” I ran the strip across the brim of the bowl, leaving behind an iridescent film of soap that prevented the fog from escaping.
“As you can see, you can use the soapy strip to create an impermeable barrier to the gases, effectively trapping them inside the bowl. The sublimating reaction inside the bowl continues unabated however, and soon something has got to give”
Scoots held up a hand in question, “What’s sublimating mean?” She asked.
“Another good question!” I praised her out of habit, “Sublimation is a phase change from solid matter… such as the dry ice… to a gas like the type you see before you now, thereby bypassing the liquid stage” I explained to her, though her crooked neck told me that she still didn’t get it. Oh well, must’ve been my badly simplified vocabulary.
By now the bubble had expanded to the degree that it resembled a dome. The captivated students collectively held their breath in anticipation. They were rewarded when the bubble reached its breaking point, bursting and creating a wispy wave of gas that spread out in all directions, blanketing itself over the edges of the desk and onto the floor by the closest children’s feet. They ‘Oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ in enchantment, hypnotized by what many of them wrote off as being another un-engaging lecture by an adult. Even Cheerilee seemed highly impressed, making me ponder how much in the way of science she taught the children. I did know for certain that Arithmetic was a subject she broached upon (and Apple bloom repeatedly tried to recruit my help on when her mathematically gifted brother was too busy), but was unsure of how in depth she went beyond basic algebra.
My reception among the kids was nigh stellar once I hooked them in with the dry ice bubble, their applause ringing in the air (except for Diamond and her pal, Silver. But I couldn’t give two hoots about what they thought). My sensitive ears sifted through the clamor of the vox populi and discerned the individual reviews.
“That was so cool! I didn’t know you could make fog with just dried ice cubes and water! I totally know what I’m going to ask my parents to do for next Fright Night’s decorations!” A boy roughly the same age as Button Mash spouted (where was he anyway? Maybe his was the empty seat next to the window? I would liked to have seen his undoubtedly video game oriented presentation), writing it down as to not forget.
“Neato!”
“Very enlightening, to be sure”
“How come Miss Cheerilee doesn’t teach us stuff like this?” I heard Apple bloom mutter to herself with a pout, propping her head up with an arm on the desk.
I held up an ungloved finger and tapped it on the rim of the bowl as the dry ice expended itself, “That… my dear hearts, is only the beginning!” The cheer that I got in response to that highlighted their renewed vigor for learning.
I cleared the table of the round bowl and reached into my crate of common household goods for my next trick. No longer were their eyes glazed over as I retrieved a normal looking wax candle and a box of matches. Because the draft flowing through the window had gotten stronger, I shut it manually, not wanting it to interfere with my ‘reigniting candle’ prestidigitation. Cheerilee fidgeted in the corners of my vision as I struck a match against the sanding strip on the matchbox, but trusted me to light a candle enough not to make a fuss out of it.
“This one I suppose you could try for yoursel-” I spotted Cheerilee shaking her head side to side vigorously, “Nope! Same rules apply!” I hastily amended, drawing some disappointed moans from my viewers, “Anyhow, this is less showy than the last trick, but should mystify you regardless”
With that, I promptly blew out the candle with an expelled puff of breath. I let the thick stream of vapor climb upwards enough that it came into contact with my still lit matchstick.
“There’s an idiom where I come from” I asserted to no one in particular, “Where there is smoke, there is fire. But I’d like to put my own spin on it for this… Where there is candle smoke, there can be a flame reborn”
There was a delay of a few seconds before the vapor disappeared and the candle reignited. There were yet more gasps and eyes alit with childlike wonder, and in that moment, I gained a firm understanding as to why Cheerilee was so passionate about her job. Hands instantly shot up in question, but I had predicted this response and spoke up right away.
“If you’re all wondering how I just did that, it involves the smoke leftover from the blown out candle. To give you a summarized overview of the nitty gritty components, there is a chemical reaction that results from the combustion of the candle’s wax, which converts it into carbon dioxide, water, heat, and illumination. You see… there’s still some ignitable fuel left in the vapors, so if you take a light to it, the flame will ‘revive’ itself on the wick. It’s a helpful thing to know when you accidentally snuff out one of your candles and want to relight it without wasting a match”
“Cool… I could use that at parties to impress my friends” Remarked a girl with a cherry topped cupcake adorning the skin above her wrists. She had the right idea. After all, I had gotten the ‘inspiration’ for this demonstration of simple science from intriguing party trick videos online.
I didn’t even bother clearing the desk for the next one, since it was only a single candle and didn’t take up that much space by itself. Cheerilee snatched it up anyway, perhaps feeling a need to seem useful. While I was occupied with more setup work, I posed a deceptively mundane question to the classroom in the meantime.
“Let’s say you wanted to extinguish your lit candles wicks, how would you typically go about accomplishing this?” I inquired, to which several hands sprouted up from their desky soil. After a period spent deliberating, I called on a lanky Stellar Mage boy with freckles and teal hair, “Yes…” My eyes tweaked to the side as I paused, taking a moment to recall his name, “…Snails?”
He gifted me with a toothy smile, either for my remembering of his name or for being selected, “By blowing on them, eh? Or using a candle scissor snuffer like my friend Snips owns” He answered in a slow, accented voice that made him sound kind of Canadian. The aforementioned friend of his swished his hand over his head at me in greeting.
“Correct” I acknowledged both his response and his portly compadre with a nod, “But… what if you were challenged to put them out without using either of those methods, or visibly interfering with the flame at all?” I countered, placing a long strip of stubby candles on the desk and subconsciously lighting them with a snap of my fingers and a flash of thermal magic. By the time I realized that I had just used magic in a magic-less magic show, it was too late. There were those in my audience that murmured among themselves (especially the two strife sowing rich girls) at the hypocritical action, but they said no more, electing to watch me like a hawk.
“Errgh… uhgg…” He hesitated as his mind worked overtime to find the answer.
I spared him the trouble, “Don’t fret! I am here to shed some light on the answer to that very question, metaphorically speaking that is”
I took out a clean glass measuring cup and emptied a generous dollop of baking soda into it. Following that, I uncapped the lid to a bottle of vinegar and tipped it over into the cup, a stream of the heady smelling fluid mingling with the powder and reacting straightaway. I held my hand over the glass to allow for a repeat buildup of carbon dioxide gas to aid me in making another point.
This time, Silver Spoon spoke out of turn, “I think I can see where this is going. But how are you supposed to douse the candles without visibly smothering them with something physical like water or your fingers? I can’t see anything in that cup that would do the job” She remained dubious.
‘What would this girl know about snuffing candles with her fingers? She probably has servants do that without wetting their fingers whenever she’s feeling notably cruel’ I cynically thought.
“Just because you cannot see something, does not necessarily mean that it is not there” I replied evenly, removing my hand and lifting the cup in the air for all to see. The students leaned forward in their seats and squinted, trying to make out whatever was now inside the measuring cup.
“Watch closely” I instructed them, tilting the cup over the candle strip and keeping it a few inches away from the wicks. Slowly, the flames wavered as the carbon dioxide in the glass choked their oxygen fuel before flickering out of existence.
“Most unexpected…” The boy named Truffle Shuffle observed, “…and all using materials that are commonly descried in a kitchen pantry” He eloquently stated.
Silver Spoon said nothing, brooding to herself as her expectations were subverted.
“How did you do that?” Cheerilee actually asked for this occasion.
“You can’t possibly be telling me you’ve never had a student create a baking soda and vinegar volcano diorama before!” I expressed in disbelief.
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about” She shook her head, “You’re saying that simple baking soda and vinegar can be used to put out candles?”
“Yes. In case you didn’t know, baking soda and vinegar result in carbon dioxide gas, which is heavier than the air under ideal circumstances. It’s also non flammable, so the fire in the candle cannot burn it like it can with natural air. Add enough of it to the candle and it will have nothing to fuel itself on” I explained loud enough for those in the back to hear.
She hummed in consideration, “And you can make an imitation of a volcano with this? I think I have an idea for a classroom project that the kids will all enjoy”
“A baking soda volcano will take more than just vinegar and baking powder to work, there’s other materials required for it to be realistic” Lava colored food coloring was important, for one, but I elected to make it to seem more intricate than it was.
“Then perhaps I might need to keep you on as a consultant for academic activities that the children will enjoy” She half joked with a delightful giggle. I was flattered that she and the kids thought so highly of that which was deemed inane back home. But then again, different world… different expectations as to what makes for entertaining learning.
“I, err… my schedule is not that flexible at the moment” I understated, scratching at the back of my head, “But tell you what. I’ll write down a list of things that you can use to inspire these children and I’ll attach the instructions for how you can carry them out on the back. How does that sound?”
“That sounds most agreeable, Zenith” She gratefully smiled at me, which I halfheartedly mirrored before turning to the eager children.
I used my showman’s voice to wrap my role up, “And that concludes today’s demonstration of… Magic-less Magic Tricks! Otherwise known as…?” I rolled my hand in the student’s direction as an invitation for them to fill in the blanks.
“Household Science!” They smilingly chorused in unison. I expertly hid a frown. They were supposed to do it in a deadpan delivery, but I guess it couldn’t be helped with how stoked they were.
“I’d say that the Mana Mark Maidens made an excellent choice when choosing someone to represent them for this” Cheerilee gave her accolades, “With that finished, let’s move on t-”
“Woah woah woah!” I interrupted her, “I never said I was finished!”
She stared at me in confusion, “But you just told us that your demonstration was done” She contended, flustered features on her face.
“Precisely! My demonstration was concluded, but I’m not done teaching these whippersnappers things they know little to nothing about! With your permission, I’d like to bore them a transient while longer” I requested, jesting as an aside.
I initially wanted to substantiate to them how a non Newtonian Shoggoth was born. But that would have required said fluid and a subwoofer, and I don’t think Vinyl was too keen on lending those out to just anybody, even to those she owed for her new selection of music to toy with at her nightclub.
She rocked her posture to the side and placed a hand on her hip, “And what else could you possibly educate them on in the next ten minutes before I have to ring the lunch bell?” She asked me, gesturing with a thumb to the lever mechanism.
“Oh… nothing much…” I dismissively shrugged off the question as I grabbed a stick of chalk and expeditiously started to illustrate a chart detailing the Federal structure of the United States of America, taking special care to separate the three branches of government into a triangle of Montesquieu-esque checks and balances, “Just a prominent example about a minor thing called Democracy” I vocalized with a knowing smirk curling at my lips.
⁂
Once I believed I had sufficiently versed Cheerilee’s assemblage of confounded children in matters of politics, the thoroughly nonplussed teacher rung the bell and signaled the beginning of a thirty minute lunch period before the last two hours of class. Over a dozen hungry juveniles shambled out the door in a disorderly fashion before setting their waypoints for the wooden picnic tables available in the back end of the schoolhouse's yard, lunch boxes in hand and ready to fill the holes in their stomachs with their mothers’ homemade meals to go. Cheerilee politely requested that I wouldn’t touch on sensitive topics like the type concerning disparate forms of government in the future before brusquely shooing me out. I sighed to myself as I absently shifted the crate under my arms. I guess Cheerilee was another one of those Arcanians that believed that the Princesses could do no wrong and were always in the right, even if they weren’t. It was sad to see such an intelligent, rationally thinking woman act so unreceptive (I dare say blinded) to the truth that while the Princesses had the best of intentions at heart, they were just as capable of mistakes as any other person; they’ve even admitted to me that much themselves.
I was stolen away from my musings by the sensation of being tackle hugged by the Maidens. Dropping the crate, I fell back onto the grassy earth next to a leaf shedding tree as the combined weight and momentum of the girls brought me down low.
“Zenith you were so awesome back there!” Scootaloo shouted, which was a commendation customarily reserved for her longtime idol, Rainbow Dash. I blinked at that. I didn’t think she would be that beholden to me over something so mundane.
“I was so worried that we would fail that assignment! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Apple bloom was so elated I momentarily feared that she might kiss me.
“I never had any doubts” Sweetie declared confidently, “You have our eternal thanks for coming to our rescue” She primly exalted me.
I sighed forbearingly, wrapping an acknowledging arm around Scoots and Apple bloom, “Think nothing of it… actually, scratch that. You girls need to devise your own mind blowing presentations in the coming times, so that I don’t won’t have to do this sort of thing again. Not that I believe I even could, as I have a feeling that I’ve recently gotten on your teacher’s bad side” I rolled my eyes. Liberty Prime would be ashamed of how heavily suppressed democracy was here. Eh, at least there are no communists.
Sweetie’s noggin swayed from side to side, “Cheerilee doesn’t have a bad side!” She insisted, her voice cracking adorably as she did so.
I quirked an eyebrow, “Oh really? Are you telling me that you three have never caused your teacher to scowl once with your antics?”
“Err… well… that is” Apple bloom struggled to maintain a straight face once I brought that up.
“This isn’t about us!” Scootaloo hastily deflected for her honest morally imbued friend as we all got to our feet, “Heh, you know for a killjoy… you sure know how to bail us out of a tight spot when you want to. I don’t know what to make of that Fiddle System you talked about in the end, but I kind of like the idea of a government where every voice is heard when it comes to the big decision making”
‘Good, she’s taken the bait. I can only hope the other children will give it some consideration themselves’ I thought quietly. Sowing even the tiniest seeds of democracy in tilled soil was oddly satisfying.
I adjusted my hat, jingling the bells by doing so, which had been knocked noticeably askew by the Maiden’s charge, “It’s pronounced ‘Federal’ System… but the point of that exercise was to notify you younger minds that there’s more than one way to run a country beyond vesting all authority to a few individuals and trusting them unquestionably with that power” I held up a finger, “Remember girls… there must always be a standard of accountability held in place. I respect their Royal Highnesses very much… but realistically, they are only ultimately answerable to themselves, instead of the people over which they rule” I turned the finger inwards to my chest in emphasis. It was a mere statement of fact, with intense implications.
“An’ how’s that a problem? I met Princess Luna once during Fright Night, and she was amazin’! In fact, she’s my favorite!” A cockney accent piped in from the side.
I turned to regard this new voice, finding it in the form of a smaller than average lad with darkish brown eyes like the kind I used to own. He wasn’t listening in on us on purpose. The book illustrating ancient pirates on the cover that was in his hands provided evidence that he was minding his own business and reading before we came along.
“I have myself… Pip Squeak” I cordially spoke to our eavesdropper, “Both of them (‘technically three’), in fact. They’re admirable women, the lot of them. But they’re also human, just like you and me. You can’t tell me that you’ve never made poor calls before”
“Sometimes…” Pip demurely admitted, “But Luna is the infallible mistress of the moon and everything it shines over!” He shouted, using big words like a big boy.
‘You wouldn’t be so quick to say that if you knew about the consequences of her actions first hand like I did, boy’ I opined wordlessly, phantasmal memories of that first night in the decrepit ruins of the Neverfree Castle rerunning themselves in my brain.
“No one is infallible kid, not even the immortals this society seems to hold in such high esteem” I monotonously said to him, “But don’t take my word for it. Next time Luna comes to visit, you be sure to ask your favorite Princess if she’s done things and regretted them in hindsight”
The diminutive boy stared at me with a hard look in his eyes, the kind you would see after callously revealing to them that Santa Claus’s gifts are actually the result of their parents opening their wallets, or that there is no lucky pot of gold on the other end of the rainbow (which is physically possible to get to here, much to my befuddlement). But there was also a flash of vacillation across his face. He wrinkled his brow as he grunted something unintelligible and turned his back on us.
“Woah! You’ve interacted with the Princesses before?” Scootaloo burst out as the boy walked away, his slow stride and curved posture indicating that he was locked in deep introspection.
I gave her a sidelong glance and chipper grin, “Of course I have! You could even say that I’m a member of their innermost circle” I dramatized, putting it mildly.
Apple bloom tilted her head questioningly, “Wow, really!? Then how come you’ve never told us this before?”
“Because you never asked” I bluntly replied, causing her to blink.
“Hey, bland hands!” Came the obnoxious voices of the Maidens' archrivals. The three of them groaned together as they mentally prepared themselves for another barb trading session.
“It figures you would need to enlist the specialty of someone with a chemist’s Mana mark for help! I think Cheerilee should have given you a failing grade like you deserved, useless bland hands!” Diamond Tiara jeered, repetitively using the same insult despite how overused it was to begin with.
“You be quiet! I saw the looks on your faces! You were just as blown away as we were by that ice bubble!” Scootaloo pointed out.
“Dry ice bubble” I interjected, to no one’s heed.
“I’ll have ya’ll know that Zenith here is blank jus’ like us! And he’s one of the most capable people ah know!” Apple bloom protested while gesturing at me, using me as a reference, much to my minor annoyance. I was touched by her faith in me though.
Diamond Tiara looked at me and scoffed, “An adult? Devoid of a Mana mark? That’s ridiculous. You’re just lying to make yourselves feel better about forever being useless bland hands with no direction in life” She crossed her arms in a condescending fashion.
Apple bloom looked at me pleadingly, forcing me to evaluate my options. I could either be a jerk, denying her claim and therefore humiliating the young girl and her friends in front of their worst antagonists. Or I could reveal to yet another person who didn’t need to know, that I was lacking their visual rite of passage and was ‘blank’. I should think that anyone who knew me well would have instinctively known what I would do in this situation.
“Precious Apple bloom here is right. My shoulders are as bare as the day I was born” I authenticated, rolling up my sleeve to show the bratty children that the young fruit farmer spoke truth. If anyone had the gall to think I would have taken the easy way out, I would have very much like to have slapped him or her upside the head to instill some sense in them.
Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon stared open mouthed at the pale, clear patch of skin that was being exhibited to them. Their expressions rapidly warped from shock to confusion and finally settled on disbelief.
“That’s impossible…” Silver Spoon whined, “Every Arcanian eventually gets their Mana mark before becoming an adult!” Diamond shook herself out of her funk to glare disapprovingly at her lackey of a friend, “I-I mean, with the exception of these three failures” Spoon corrected herself with a nervous simper.
“It’s a trick! He’s one of those Stellar Mages who knows how to cover up their marks with magic!” Diamond accused me, still not accepting the fact that I was as flexibly talented as I was without a stamp to represent it.
I walked over to them and leaned down so that I wouldn’t have to literally speak over the petulant welp of a child, “Personally, I think that singular specialization in any field is overrated and represses one’s true versatility. A competent human being should be able to change a diaper, push the envelope, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a defensive wall, set a broken bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, ask dangerous questions, pitch manure, program a computer, make clever yet obscure references, make obvious references, cook a tasty meal, broker treaties, show no fear, fight efficiently, and die gallantly” I listed off, the two girls in front of me reacting to all this like someone took an egg beater and whisked their brains into oblivion.
I shifted my head in such a way that my eyes appeared like crimson razor thin slits, “Specialization is for insects. Let’s take you for instance, what does your mark even mean?” I asked, crooking a finger at her hand jewelry. She fought for words to respond with before scowling at her inability to do so right away. It seemed that no one had ever really had the courage to call her out on this before, catching her off guard.
Her teeth grit and her blood pressure spiked, “I-it m-means that I am superior to these useless twerps at the very least! They don’t even have one!” She stammered out angrily.
“Yet… they don’t have one yet” I mutedly asserted with confidence, making Diamond angrier.
“And neither do you for that matter!” She snarled at me, “If you aren’t tricking us then that makes you even more of a failure than they are, if that’s even possible!”
My eyes narrowed at her blatantly continued display of tetchy petulance, “I am not defined by some mark, girl with the gaudy jewelry on her hands. My potential is boundless” I stooped lower until I was fully eye level with the bratty hell-raiser, “In case you’re somehow unable to translate that, it means that I am whatever I damn well please to be… and you would do well to remember that”
My lack of hesitance in standing up for myself stupefied her, “Y-you can’t talk to me like that! My dad practically owns half of this town! He can make your life a living hell!” She spat back, an irate fire burning in her eyes.
I snorted in vague amusement, “That’s right… go crying back to daddy when you don’t get your way, like the spoiled brat you are” The Maidens behind me uttered an ‘Ooo!’ in unison.
I didn’t stop there, “Your father doesn’t scare me, you pernicious, pretentious little hellion. Especially not when he signs his documents using the same ink pens that I ushered into the vast majority of this town” A bit of a presumption on my part, but Tiara did nothing to refute my words regardless, “Alternatively, you could try proving me wrong about you, and cutting them some slack for a change” I gesticulated with a thumb back at the Maidens.
“Why should I!?” She sneered, “It’s not my fault they’re a bunch of useless bland hands!”
‘Blank flanks has more of a bite to it’ I idly thought to myself.
“Okay, first off… they’re not useless. Apple bloom alone has probably done more for this community on weekends than you have in months just by doing her chores” I held up a second finger, “Secondly, you seriously need to diversify your insults. Excessive reiteration only dilutes the strength behind your words, and makes you come off as a simpleton to those who possess an entire lexicon for ignominious communication to tear people down with” A third digit joined its brethren, “Third and lastly, I want to know why you antagonize those three so much when they’ve done nothing to you to warrant it”
“They have not done nothing to me!” She shrieked, her face red as a beet, “They started this by humiliating me at my Mark-ceañera party!” She pointed an accusing finger at them, and they shrank back, “Those stupid, bumbling idiots had the nerve to make me look like a fool at my own party!”
“Which you likely instigated on yourself by inviting them over to begin with” I turned my head to speak to Apple bloom, “What was Diamond’s real purpose for extending an invite to you anyway? To rub in the fact that she had her Mana mark while you didn’t? To make fun of you some more in front of your peers?” Apple bloom wordlessly confirmed what I expertly pretended to guess at with a brief nod.
“You’re just taking their side because you’re their friend!” She screamed at me, not appreciating how expeditiously I was chipping away at her perceived moral high ground.
“Actually, I’ve been quite objective about this, while you on the other hand have only gotten more and more emotional with every passing second” I corrected her none too gently, pressing my advantage, “Perhaps somewhere deep inside, you realize that you’re in the wrong, and you simply can’t stand that. So you lie to yourself and weave this pitiful story painting them as the villains and you as some kind of victim giving them their just desserts by running them down and ridiculing them all the time. Well guess what, princess. You’re no more of an avenging angel than King Sombra was a Saint with good intentions in mind” I acerbically compared her to the deceased tyrant ruler of the Krystal Kingdom.
I haven’t even read about the atrocities committed by the mad Krystal King, and yet I knew that it was people like Tiara that had the potential to become like him. Perhaps I was being hard on her for doing so, but vaunting yourself over your fellow being for a perceived ‘weakness’ treads a very fine line between prideful arrogance and outright wickedness.
Diamond Tiara glared balefully at me, even baring her teeth at me like some feral animal, which did not help my image of her in the slightest. Silver Spoon however showed me that she retained a shred of common sense by pulling her friend away by the arm, knocking some tallies off her score by reassuring her that nothing I said to her mattered, but saw the wisdom of retreat before her friend tried something she would regret. I begged to differ, but would not waste any more of my time bickering with children too set in their ways to see the folly of their practices. I would get in one last jab though.
“And another thing concerning your presentation! You two need to remind your fathers that purposely underselling their wares in order to run poorer rival businesses into the ground is unethical!” I called after them, smirking to myself when Diamond began to thrash against her fleshy bonds in a rage. Silver had a strong grip though, and hauled her lesser half away kicking and screaming profanities that were most unbefitting for a girl her age.
“Dang, I’ve never seen Diamond get that angry before. Not even when we received the nomination to carry Magiville’s flag during the openin’ ceremony of the games” Apple bloom commented as silence filled the air in the absence of their usual aggressors.
“Never mind them, you three. And never follow my example like that… I’d rather not know that I’ve veritably been a terrible influence on you” I commanded them, not wanting the Maidens to become overly confrontational with their problems.
Offhandedly, I was struck with an idea for a way to both honor and instruct them on how to deal with critics during the opening concert of the games. I would have to submit my amendments to the opening concert play list to Celestia the next time I saw her. Royal connections with some of the most powerful beings on the planet were… a very advantageous benefit to have in your repertoire.
“Why not!?” Scootaloo demanded to know, “You told them what for and sent them away like you should. You can’t tell me that they didn’t have it coming! I’m usually the one to defend our group and I’ve never been able to rouse Diamond like that!”
I shook my head in the negative, “Inciting your enemies to anger just to make them go away rarely works Scootaloo, and it only exacerbates the existing problem. Now I’m not telling you to turn the other cheek here, as they would doubtlessly exploit that to hurt you with their acidic words some more, but you should be genuinely attempting to make nice with them. Always try to forgive those who would do you wrong. It not only proves that you’re the better person, it also confuses the heck out of them” I advised with a clipped chuckle.
“That sounds kinda namby pamby if you ask me” Scootaloo crossed her arms, “But… we Maidens owe it to you for ensuring that we didn’t get a bad grade on that assignment… so I guess we’ll try to follow your advice. But I won’t be held accountable if those two bullies cross a line!” She warned heatedly.
“That’s all I can ask of you, truthfully” I exhaled, picking my crate back up to return what was left of the dry ice pellets to Twilight, “Tell your sister that I’ll drop off my robes later today, okay Sweetie Belle? Oh, and inform her additionally that we’re still on for Tuesday night”
She dipped her head, “Okay, I will… but what happens on Tuesday night?” The curly haired girl inquired as she succumbed to her curiosity.
“That’s between your sister and I” I rakishly responded.
“Hey, Zenith?” Apple bloom spoke up.
“Yes, Apple bloom?”
“If ya don’t have yer Mana mark, then how come you’ve got a focal gem now?” She expressed, poking at her forehead to emphasize her point.
“That’s so I can use my magic in public without the eagle eyed questioning why” I explained, subconsciously pulling at my hat to hide the rhinestone.
“But… isn’t that lying?” The farm girl’s brow knitted itself together in moral indecision.
I shrugged my shoulders dismissively, “There are two major types of lies, Apple bloom. Neither of which your sister would approve of, but I’m going to clarify them for you anyway. A lie of commission is a direct mistruth that you tell someone, which your sister ardently opposes the usage of very much. A lie of omission is just that… you omit information, or refuse to clear up misconceptions about something when you know the real truth. As far as I’m concerned… the latter of the duo can be perfectly acceptable when necessity dictates it”
“Ya sure do take a likin’ for using all kinds of fancy words, Zenith” Apple bloom dazedly remarked after failing to interpret half of what I’d told her, my propensity for elegant articulation stumping her less than well read brain, “And yer right, my sis would raise a heckuva fit if she heard ya saying that to me”
“Which is probably why it’s best if you don’t impart that particular tidbit of knowledge unto her, savvy?” I vaguely quoted a certain pirate that Pip Squeak reminded me of with his swashbuckler’s presentation. I shuffled the crate in my arms for a better grasp on it as I made to leave the school grounds and return to the library.
I wasn’t even able to get ten paces off when that girl with the bow and arrow Mana mark accoste-, I mean, hailed me, “Hey Mister, Mister!”
I stopped and stifled a sigh, an old song from the eighties playing in my mind thanks to the girl’s unintentional cueing, “I don’t fancy being referred to as a Mister, little miss Archer. I’m not one for titles or anything of the sort unless it is absolutely proper. When it isn’t, I prefer to simply go by Zenith” I entreated of her as she ran up beside me.
“My deepest apologies, Mist-… Zenith” She atoned with a prim bow of her head.
We walked in silence for a few seconds before I realized that she would not deign to continue this conversation by herself.
“Is there something you wanted to discuss? If it’s about my opinion of your presentation, I found it to be quite erudite for a girl as young as you. You should be proud of yourself” I complimented her, dispensing with the niceties.
“It’s not about that, but thank you!” She exclaimed happily, “I first wanted to say that I’m glad you stood up to those mean bullies Diamond and Silver. They’ve been persecuting everyone who hasn’t earned their Mana mark yet, and even taunting those who have! Seeing them rebuffed like that filled me with such a sensation of relief. You didn’t even so much as flinch at their insults!” She praised me.
“And why would I, their elder by more than a few years, do so? I do not trifle myself with the opinions of those I hardly know, because that would imply that I care about what they have to say, which by extension implies that I care about them as people… which I casually don’t” I icily stated, people like Diamond and Silver left a bad taste in my mouth just by thinking about them.
“I wish I was that thick skinned” She said wistfully before perking up, “Hey, so you’re the one that’s going to be representing all of Magiville in the opening ceremony of the Arcanian athletic games right? I was at the bakery when Rainbow Dash was telling everybody about how she was going to get you to agree to participate in the games, even if it was only indirectly”
‘Dash… you and your big mouth’ I groused, the clown haired girl getting on my nerves even when she wasn’t here. Still, without her encouragement, I don’t believe I would be doing anything other than spectating at the games.
“I did” I answered before holding a hand to my face like I was letting her in on a secret, which I suppose I was, “But just between you and I… I’m also going to be directly participating” An endeavor that I would feel a lot safer with undertaking as soon as I got more practice with the Claymore against a wide variety of opponent types.
“Really!? In what category!? Ice Archery!?” She shot off in rapid succession. I had no idea what ice archery was… but I could figure out what it entailed based on title alone.
“Duelist’s section” I apprised her, “Though I used to practice archery in my spare time. I owned a recurve bow that was rated for a fifty pound draw weight, which is nothing to sneeze at for unaided, raw string tension. Although somebody of my size could get more of a fifty five pound draw weight with it. It was a good bow, had great accuracy for a traditional recurve” I left out the fact that it was before I was spirited to this world, anyway. I’d never entertain the thought of using one for combat purposes though. I was only a consistent shot when it came to targets that weren’t going to shoot back at me.
“That’s super cool! My dad Straight Shot is going to be competing in the archery division!”
I gave her a sideways glance, “Is that what has you so excited? Why tell me about it?”
“My dad and I have team spirit!” She spouted, like the answer was that simple, “You’re not excited about representing our town in the games?” She asked, cocking her head to the side questioningly.
I clicked my tongue, “Can’t say that I am. And I’m not actually doing this for the town… no offense meant to you or anyone else living here” I added, not wanting to figuratively step on anyone’s toes.
I stopped walking, since that would take us beyond the school grounds, and the girl showed no sign of the invisible boundaries discouraging her from following me. I didn’t want anyone to think I was encouraging truancy after all. I made a bad enough impression with Big Mac’s lady friend as it was.
She was puzzled, a lock of dark blue hair blocking one of her gentle eyes from sight, “Then what are you doing it for?” She needled me for information, brushing the obstructing hair out of the way.
I paused, her question making me reflect on exactly why I was going to do it, “I dare say that… I’m doing it for my friends, honestly” Partially to shut Rainbow up and to ensure that Celestia won her mysterious wager with Cadence, and mostly for an outstanding woman who took me into her care when she was under no obligation to do so, “My friends are the ones responsible for inspiring (‘otherwise known as heckling’) me to do something with myself instead of sitting around like a sedentary couch potato. I rarely go out my way to act on another’s behalf when there isn’t a significant reason that I can provide myself. Doing it for my friends and knowing that they appreciate my efforts is rewarding enough for me” I inflated my embellished motivations for the impressionable young lass. I forwent telling her that having an incentive on the side never hurt though.
“That’s… most noble of you” Archer breathed out in an introspective fashion, “Just like my dad. He’s not doing this for personal glory or even for the nice shiny medals! He only wants to show the world that folks from our humble town are capable of keeping up with the major league players, be they from Stratopolis or even Gryphondria!” She relayed to me, a resplendent smile stretching across her face.
My eyebrows rose once she revealed that there would be foreign competitors in the games. Perhaps they should rename it to resemble the International Olympics from my planet? Arcanian Athletic games felt conceited and insular to me.
‘What are we, discussing baseball?’ My lip line crinkled in amusement at the thought.
“And I’m sure that we will, miss Archer” I affirmed with conviction, “Now if you will excuse me, I have a previous engagement located at Golden Oak’s library”
“Okay. Farewell! See you at the games!” She called after me as I walked the dirt road leading back into the town.
⁂
The first snows fell on the beginning day of December, covering everything in a powdery blanket of white. It wasn’t anything heavy, averaging a depth of a foot to two feet at its deepest. I recall Dash once telling me that her kin up in Stratopolis spend a better portion of each year meticulously preparing for that one month of winter so that it was just right, not too cold as to be unbearable, but nippy enough that people would have to don their thicker clothing for prolonged periods outdoors. The town’s denizens regarded it as just another yearly occurrence, but for me it was something truly exceptional. As I’ve stated before, where I came from, snow was something that you’d have to travel for in order to see in person. To step outside and see snowflakes drifting onto the ground from the cloudy sky above was quite the spectacle to me.
During this chilly period, I spent much of my time juggling social obligations in Magiville with each of the Elements (including assisting Zecora in gathering herbs and other exotic plant material in the otherwise untouched, snow free Neverfree. This was done because she hadn’t fully recovered from her burns yet, even with her medicinal remedies. In exchange for my assistance, I got to learn a few things about the unique properties of various herbalists’ ingredients on those trips into the forest too. I also discovered that Zecora did not resort to her usual rhyming in her written explications), practicing for the opening ceremony of the athletic games (I went a tad overboard on that one, practicing music and flash memorizing tablature for songs I wouldn’t even officially use. My music chamber just had too much to tempt me with, and it wasn’t like I had any neighbors to complain about the noise), training for those very same games up in the capital palace of Concordia and going to reputable taverns with a constantly disguised Blueblood to drink and listen in on the ‘unofficial’ news being passed around (I couldn’t halt a vicious grin from forming on my face once I heard the local hearsay of that slattern Melody booking it from the capital to her vacation home in Delphia with atypical haste. My very specific warning had finally gotten through to her it would seem. Which was assuredly for the best, as I’d hate to have to deliver on it), as well as checking in the initial progress being made with our secretive developments (with Gizmo securely onboard as a consultant for engineering difficulties. His expertise was really helping to get some of those projects off the ground. Moreover, I had finally received that metric boatload of bits from the breech loading schematic deal to go along with a new account at the bank of Concordia. In the first safe deposit box that I opened there was also a note from Celestia that notified me in her own writing that I was now off ‘The Royal Gravy Train’ as she so humorously put it).
Speaking of the city, I was ambushed there by Octavia during one instance, who implored me to meet a special someone who was visiting her in the city. That was the time I got to meet Octavia’s birth mother, Viola Philharmonica (who looked very much like her, save for the violet hair striped with grey streaks), who was herself an accomplished musician during her day. Her choice of instrument was pretty obvious, but it was intriguing to find out that she was also a virtuoso with the Piano (which she regularly chided her daughter for never taking an avid interest in). A charming woman she was, her graceful mannerisms making it clear which side of the family her daughter got her class from. The only negative opinion that I formed of her was that she made me extremely uncomfortable with her shrewd subtlety, throwing in hints of expecting ‘vibrant fruit to be borne of this relationship within a years time’. Octavia flushed in embarrassment and squirmed from her position on the tassel pillowed sofa, while I sat there nonplussed with a stony expression composing my features. Needless to say, I was wary of my potential mother in law, even if I visually hid this concern from my blissful ladylove (whose bimonthly orchestral concert I managed to attend. Incredible performance it was, the passionate black haired Agrarian woman created breathtaking, colorful art along with her colleagues… all using a different kind of brush stroke. Getting an iced coffee with her after a tough afternoon of training with Smoky Marionette’s hard hitting conjurations was also most enjoyable).
But I’m getting ahead of myself here. For not everything devolved into the humdrum routine preceding an important event. I had one or two heart to heart conversations with some of the Elements in the days preceding the onset of the games. The first of which was with Fluttershy, whose offer for helping her with coordinating her animal friend’s pre winter preparations I accepted.
It was a Wednesday morning when I arrived at the caretaker’s cottage to bear witness to an interesting sight. If I thought her front yard was filled with critters from all walks of life under normal circumstances, then it was positively overflowing in the days before winter fell. Dozens upon dozens, perhaps even hundreds of furry animals chittered among themselves as they waited for the Element of Kindness to listen to their various pleas for help. I watched my steps in case there were even tinier creatures loitering about beneath my feet. They seemed to understand the purpose behind the dirt road though, and for the most part kept out of my way as I treaded past them.
I ambled up to the door and raised my arm, knocking twice on the wooden paneling to signal my arrival. There was a long pause before the knob on the door slowly twisted and pulled inward, unlatching the portal to reveal the large form of Garrett the Grizzly bear. The gargantuan ursus snorted his greeting to me before asking why I was there with a low guttural growl.
“To support Fluttershy with the soon to be dormant animals of course, I figure she could use someone else who can roughly understand your speech patterns” I replied, looking down at him. I still had no idea how I could innately parse what the local wildlife had to say, but I wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t nearly as fine tuned as Fluttershy’s understanding, but I could get the general gist of what the oddly humanlike animals communicated to me.
Garrett nodded his understanding before backing up and swinging his head inwards, inviting me into the cottage. I crossed the threshold into the naturally constructed building, where unsurprisingly; even more animal activity was taking place. Squirrels scampered across the floorboard, taking their share of stockpiled nuts and other aliments to bring home. Teams of birds carried bags of seeds in their beaks as they hovered from a storage closet stocked with feed sacks to the outside. Raccoons hitched themselves to miniscule carts loaded with all kinds of supplies for surviving the winter and hauled them into the backyard. In the middle of all this organized chaos was Angel bunny, who wielded a pair of carrots and directed the ground and air traffic using them like the illuminating beacons of a marshaling official or traffic cop. Fluttershy wasn’t kidding when she claimed that her methods for helping the animals prepare for winter inadvertently caused them to work together for the good of all. It was… uplifting, in a way. Here were all these animals, some of which would normally be preying on each other, working in total coordination. The life forms of this world were genuinely special in that they could also put aside their inborn rivalries in recognition of a greater threat; the coming frost. There was no doubt that this unorthodox partnership would be over as soon as the springtime came, but it was astounding to see for myself none the less.
Angel bunny spared me a nod in passing as I made for the backyard, where Fluttershy was probably attending to the needs of her fauna based companions. I finally found the woman near a large, lock free birdhouse holding a clipboard and flipping through the pages as what looked like her messenger birds tweeted in her ears, likely about the progress that was being made.
“…Uh huh… The badger family’s den is insulated enough that I don’t need to install a heating device there, that’s wonderful. Oh! Sally the snake accidentally squatted in another critter’s hollow? Go tell her that I have several vacant brush piles that are just perfect for her and her mate to bed down in”
I approached carefully and noisily, so that I wouldn’t surprise her, “G’morning, Fluttershy! I came here to render some aid… if you’ll accept me that is”
“Zenith!” Her eyes widened for an instant, “But… don’t you have things to do that are more important than being with me?”
Cue the headshake, “Not really. Besides… even if I did, I’d find a way to make time to spend with you” I spoke from the heart.
I caught a flare of pink that tinged at her cheeks, “I’m honored… well… I could use a second set of hands to take inventory so I can directly interact with my animal friends. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“Gladly!” I held out my right hand and received the clipboard. My eyes scanned over the first page, observing it to be a roster of singular animals to entire groups of them that were represented by a ‘speaker’ that would act as the go between.
‘Man… even the animals here elect their own representatives! And yet Arcania finds the concept of democracy to be foreign?’ Oh how the inconsistences in this mythical land never ceased to perplex me.
“Follow me, please” Fluttershy politely requested, which I obliged as we toured the wildlife version of ‘It’s a small world’.
The rest of the morning to the afternoon melted away as I took care of the organized paperwork while Fluttershy worked her negotiating skills on troublesome critters that were either demanding more than their fair allocation of food (as if it was theirs by right) or had disputes with other critters that were particularly rancorous (more of that predator and prey relationship jazz). Fluttershy’s aura of amicability availed her immensely in fostering cease-fires and even reconciliation between opposing parties, reminding them that there were healthier alternatives to fighting amongst themselves and making the minor threat of looming winter a problem that would snowball in proportion, many of which she provided. I observed all of this with a shade of respect on my countenance. The woman was almost a completely different person when she was acting (if you’ll pardon the pun) in her element. The ease with which she weaved together alliances and encouraged friendship where it seemed most unlikely to occur was phenomenal.
In the lulls between transitioning between nesting sites and congregating grounds, Fluttershy and I spoke to each other. It started out as small talk, like how we’ve been since we last saw each other or if anything of note happened that was worth mentioning. Somehow this chat led to a line of inquiry regarding my date with Rarity the previous night.
“How was your time with Rarity?” She asked, somewhat out of the blue, while scratching a beaver (who was named Harry, I kid you not) under its chin. The creature happily flopped its tail against a mound of stiff mud, flattening it into a miniature plateau.
“Hmm?” I looked up from the clipboard, having just checked off the Brendham Beaver family as ‘set for winter’, “It was… nothing out of the ordinary. How’d you even know about that anyway?” I asked in return.
“Rarity wouldn’t stop talking about it yesterday when I bought some sweaters from her” She answered, shifting her shoulders upward and undulating the canary yellow sweater that she was wearing, “I was originally there to pick up an order of custom made winter clothing tailored exclusively for my animal friends, but she beseeched me to stay and listen to how ‘marvelous’ her night was as she recommended her new fashion line to me” She added as an aside.
“Well… I guess it was enlightening to learn more about Rarity and her family in general, mostly her family” I conceded drolly, “Like how her father was once a famous sports star and now all he does is wear tacky dress shirts and fuss over his mustache, or how he and Rarity’s mother have a tendency to leave their younger daughter in her older sister’s hands while they go on extended vacations around the kingdom, especially Vanclover, where both of them were originally natives to” I relayed to the caretaker. It wasn’t eye popping info to me. Someone as monotonous as me has an ear for accents, even disguised accents.
“She… told you that? And on your first date?” Fluttershy’s tone was difficult to decipher, I wasn’t certain if she was confounded or just plain bewildered by this revelation.
“Yes…? Why? Is that not something she usually does after the third round of wine?” I responded in jest, smacking my lips as I savored the ghostly memory of its flavor. It was a tasty vintage for spoiled grape juice.
She stood up stiffly and we moved on to some vacated birds’ nests (its owners having migrated south ahead of schedule), “I’ve been a friend of Rarity for years, and she’s only just recently admitted to me that she has Vanclovian heritage, and that her prim accent is self trained” She said after a minute of flying up to take down the nests for a month of safekeeping. This was done so that when the birds that lived here returned, they wouldn’t have to go through the trouble of collecting materials for a new nest.
Half an hour passed by with nary a word between us, with the exception of terse instructions from Fluttershy, who barely so much as glanced at me. I understood that winter was coming, but her abnormally cold attitude seemed premature. I could only abide by it for so long before I caved in to my concerns.
“Fluttershy? Is everything alright?” I broke the silence.
“Yes, everything is fine…” She falsely smiled at me, before it gradually slipped off her face and a frown took its place, “No… no it isn’t” She quietly admitted, unable to lie to both herself and me.
“What’s wrong then?” I followed up, levitating the clipboard to its resting place on a workbench cluttered with prefabricated animal shelters of all sizes. We had exhausted the majority of the names printed down on the roster, so I reasonably presumed that we had just about concluded our charitable work.
“What made you ask Rarity out?” She got right to the point, which I both admired and quailed at.
I blinked, “I didn’t… she’s technically the one who asked me out” I corrected, setting the record straight.
“Really?” Fluttershy eyes cast downward and her forehead wrinkled, “She made such a point out of the ‘Starry eyed Prince coming to rescue her from her castle’, and I couldn’t help but listen to it”
I kept my expression unreadable, but inside I was brooding, ‘Rarity spun the truth to aggrandize the circumstances leading up to our first official date? And to Fluttershy no less? What the hell?’ Why must Rarity prove me right by being one of those women? It’s so aggravating!
I dissembled my disgust with facetiousness, “Ha! Rarity’s Boutique is nice, but it’s hardly the palatial type of grand. Our seamstress friend was just taking liberties with the truth, Fluttershy… but that does beg the question, why did her fib upset you so much?”
She shied away from me, “Oh, it’s so embarrassing! Please don’t make me say it!”
I held up my palms reassuringly, “Relax Fluttershy. You don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to. I will not force you to do anything… and I mean that” I turned to fetch the clipboard, content to let this sleeping dog lie.
My understanding stance only worsened whatever chaotic thoughts raged in her mind, building until the dam holding it in check cracked, “I’m envious of Rarity!” She shouted (her volume of shouting anyhow), the truth eventually seeping out.
I stopped in my tracks and my head whipped around, “Envious of Rarity?” I parroted, “Why?”
“Because she has the courage to act on what she wants! She isn’t afraid to speak her mind, and she certainly isn’t afraid to rub her fortune in other people’s faces!” She snapped with uncharacteristic venom.
‘Oh, dear’ I better get to the root of this weed and rectify it before it chokes the life out of their friendship.
“Rarity has some issues with humility when her longtime fantasies are all but fully achieved, yes. But why the anger against her? Shouldn’t you be happy for her? She is one of your closest friends after all”
“She is, but… but…” Fluttershy let out a hybrid of an ultrasonic scream combined with a hiss, “Oooooh! How dare she be so inconsiderate as to lie to me! And over something that’s been tearing at me for weeks now!” She seethed in cold fury.
I examined the ordinarily demure woman in detail, ignoring mundane things such as the bulkier clothing she was wearing (despite her passive resistance to the chill in the air). Her breathing rate had jumped over the course of our tête-à-tête and her muscles were tensed, ready to spring at any second. Her movements were mechanical and her pupils were dilated, hectic emotions of every color flashing in them. All were textbook signs that she was on edge, and I had a strong hunch as to the reason why.
“You’ve developed feelings for me, haven’t you?” I remarked solemnly, robbing her of her indignation and making her retreat behind the curtain of her long hair. It was less of a question and more of a statement.
I was at an emotional impasse here… more of an utter stalemate, really. I’ve envisioned this moment as being one of the rare times where I would feel legitimately happy, the woman who always had a place in my heart sincerely returning my romantically charged sentiments. Instead I felt empty… disappointed even. This occasion had been unwittingly soured by Rarity acting as the catalyst that caused the sweet woman in front of me to disclose her feelings for me not out of affection, but out of bitterness and jealousy. I would weep for the death of yet another precious dream, if it weren’t for the fact that I no longer had tears to shed.
“It’s true…” She whispered, just loudly enough that I wouldn’t need to strain my ears to hear it, “Whenever I see you, my heart begins to race and my breath hitches in my throat. Angel bunny has told me about what you did for him that night you watched over my cottage for me, how you bravely defended him against a prowling pack of Timberwolves at great risk to yourself, even though he admitted to treating you poorly against my wishes. This increased my budding adoration for you even further. I’m sad that they had to die, but I would rather have that happen a thousand times over before I so much as entertain the thought of the grisly alternative. You even shared your trueborn name with me, and no one else… why?”
“Because you’re the only one I trust with respecting its sanctity” I told her, “Applejack would no longer call me by my alias whether I wanted her to or not, Twilight would research its origins in hopes of some misguided insight on myself instead of just seeing it for what it was, Pinkie Pie would decorate her party banners with it; which everyone and their relatives could commit to memory, Rarity would probably construct a shrine with it in mind, and Rainbow Dash would… Well, I don’t rightly know what she would do with it, though I have an inkling that it would be in a manner that I would consider averse. The fact of the matter is that you were astute enough to figure out that Zenith is just a placeholder title for the most part, and so I gave you the knowledge of my name, because I knew that you would both keep and honor it”
“And that’s part of the reason why I’ve been so distressed lately! You’ve given me the privilege of such a sacred thing, and have been so wonderful to me. So why couldn’t I bring myself to approach you when the spark that you instilled in my heart ignited a fire? Why was I so cowardly that I had to be backed into a corner before confessing the way I feel for you?” Fluttershy bemoaned. She was really beating herself up about this.
I saw an opportunity to spin this into some uplifting reminder to encourage her and took it, “Weren’t you essentially backed into a corner when a napping Dragon threatened to clog the atmosphere over Magiville with smog, and the girls had to drag you along when they attempted to peacefully negotiate with him? When Dash had gotten tired of fruitlessly talking and rushed into his cave to welcome him with a bop on the snout? He didn’t appreciate that, so he snatched her up in his scaly claws and was about to do much worse to her than what she did to him. And that’s when I’m told that someone put their debilitating fear of adult dragons to the side and faced the overgrown lizard down? Who actually admonished him for what she perceived as using his massive size to bully others into cowed submission, sending him packing without any bloodshed?” I recounted, having read up on their adventures in the library to keep it factual. Very few causal differences from their equine counterparts’ escapades, that’s for sure.
The skin around her nose crinkled in a stumped fashion, “That’s… what happened, and I’m still frightened of fully matured dragons for your information. But where are you going with this?”
“The point I’m trying to make is that sometimes people have to be put into pressing situations before they stop hiding their innermost qualities from the world. You demonstrated yours spectacularly that day. I think admitting to me that we share a mutual attraction to each other pales in comparison to that” I claimed as I downplayed it.
“I shouldn’t need to be reduced to having no choice before I act though” She contested, my acknowledgment of my feelings for her resulting in a blush, “I should be brave enough to do it ahead of time. I even underwent assertiveness seminars for it. Oh… If only I wasn’t so timid!” She berated herself, clenching her fists against her chest.
I sighed, “Fluttershy, you’re someone who’s leaning on the introverted side in a very much extroverted place, so you cannot afford to tend to your own affairs as much as you’d like, which is understandable. This is especially so since you’re an Element bearer, who therefore has a monumental responsibility to the kingdom at large. I comprehend that better than anyone” I declared without a hint of doubt, having a responsibility to the Arcania myself.
“But… you never show hesitation or that you’re uncomfortable in those settings, just like right now” She shyly pointed out.
“That’s because I’m a decent actor when I need to be. Nothing breaks my stride in a social setting, even if I despise every moment that I’m forced to endure them. It doesn’t hurt that I unequivocally couldn’t care less about what other people, particularly those who I don’t even know, think of me. But that strength is also one of my greatest weaknesses, because it tends to alienate even those closest to me. My intensely reserved personality is often misperceived by others as selfishness or aloofness, and for that they rebuke me without further investigation” I elaborated. As you can imagine, it hasn’t done me any wonders for my already asocial disposition.
“But you’re anything but selfish or aloof! I’ve always known that you are a good person, anyone with sense could see it in your eyes!” Fluttershy defended me, eliciting a pained smile on my face.
“Those accusations are not always unfounded, I’m afraid. That’s why I need people like you to keep me accountable to the greater benefit of us all. Given half a chance, I’d sink into my old viewpoints and retreat inwardly so deeply that even I wouldn’t be able to find myself. I would know… it’s happened once before” I said in a faintly haunted voice. It was the closest thing to a hamartia I had, not that I really tributed much credence to Greek story telling devices.
“Zenith…” The woman spoke my false name with warm compassion, enwrapping me in an equally warm hug, “No one is perfect. Each of us has their faults, some more pronounced than others. Heavens know that I do, but together we can work on each other’s shortcomings, turning our weaknesses into strength. Twilight’s arrival years ago, binding us all in collaboration, taught us that. Individually there was little we could do to stop the dreadful Night Terror, but with all six of us coordinating as one, we became greater than the sum of our parts. We prevailed over each formidable trial she put us through, realized what each of us was capable of in the process, and triumphed over the dread mistress’s plan to veil the known world in everlasting night. And while my nocturnal animal friends wouldn’t mind such an event, my diurnal friends would suffer greatly, which is partially what motivated me to follow my friends into the dangerous depths of the Neverfree” She elucidated, her tone becoming reminiscent as her memory dipped into the past.
“That’s when you took your first steps down the challenging path of maintaining Harmony, isn’t it?” I rhetorically asked, to which she wordlessly nodded in response.
My arms snaked around her midsection, holding her close to me, “Then will someone as renowned as you… put up with a broken person like me? Even if I’m of the stubborn opinion that I don’t deserve you?” My unsteady tone was more vulnerable than I’ve ever allowed in the weeks gone by, one of my darkest fears coming to light.
She looked me in the eyes, “I swear… on my honor as an upright Arcanian woman and as the virtuous Element of Kindness, that I will stand by you no matter what may come. No matter what foulness threatens to enshroud the world in evil… I will be there for you, if not in person… then in spirit” She pulled back and laid her hand on the chest, “I’ll reside right here”
“That’s all I need to hear” I chirped to her, the corners of my mouth twitching as I fought to remain composed, “Congrats on asserting yourself without onerous urging, by the way” I slyly commented.
She laughed mellifluously, the rich sound ringing in my ears with its pleasant peals, “Placing yourself in a stressful position to make me leave my shell and act against my natural attribute… just like in the story you summarized. I’ve fostered foxes with less cunning”
I shrugged and quipped in jest, “It’s an atrocious habit, I know”
I then got to my knees and took her hand in mine, relishing in its delicate softness, “While we’re on the subject of pledging on our words of honor. I promise you, fairest Fluttershy, that I will uphold everything that you cherish to the best of my ability. I will do whatever I can to banish your fears and comfort you during your woes. And above all else, I promise to love you as you were meant to be loved. I swear this upon my life, my light, and the love that I retain for you. Now and forever” I beamed at her, which she happily mirrored.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, “You have a wonderful smile you know. I wish I could see it more often”
My expression did not falter, “With your nurturing skill, perhaps you shall Pretty Bird” I replied without skipping a beat, using my sobriquet for her.
She hummed in felicity, “I think that we’ve done all that we can for today. I was able to get much potential toiling out of the way thanks to your timely assistance, Zenith” She gazed in the direction of her home, its backdoor portal was opened invitingly, “Would you care to have a cup of tea with me?” She meekly offered with an adorable gleam in her eyes.
“‘Twoud be my utmost pleasure to partake in a spot of afternoon tea with you, oh kindest maiden of the woods” I said with a Shakespearean bow to her, “Got anything minty perchance?” I prosaically inquired of her good naturedly.
Fluttershy simply smirked in reply.
⁂
It was the following Thursday in the early evening that I walked down the roads and over the narrow creek bridge that led to Rarity’s Boutique with some pep in my step. I was in relatively high spirits, especially after affirming my affections for Fluttershy, who agreed that we should take tentative steps in our newfound relationship so we could settle into something that was entirely a first time experience for her. Yet despite my lightened mood, there was also a dark storm cloud lingering in the back of my mind. In particular, it regarded the woman whose outspokenness had nearly jeopardized her critical friendship with both Fluttershy and myself via her thoughtless flaunting of our relationship. The stability of which was in dire straits at this point, as far as I was concerned. The sundown breeze lacked its usual bite, so I was able to don some of the less stuffy, but still gentlemanly clothes that Rarity had commissioned for me back when we attended the fashion show in the capital without people questioning my common sense.
All the while, I was debating how I should approach this next date in regards to addressing her carelessness. Should I give her the cold shoulder during the duration of the time spent in each other’s company? I mentally shook my head. That was a method that women chose to express their displeasure to each other and to the men in their lives. Did I confront her about this directly? Another no, since that would spoil the rest of the date and ruin Rarity’s night. I scoffed to myself and kicked at a smooth pebble that happened to be in the way. Forgetting to mind my Trifect strength, the tiny rock skipped along the road at impressive speeds, leaving divots in its path until it bored a hole into an empty barrel that doubled as a rubbish bin. I berated myself for being much too afraid of hurting other people’s feelings when they meant something to me, even if it was currently at the level of a tenuous friendship.
I ambled up to the bristled welcoming mat before the two halved, Dutch style door (perhaps it was for her annoying, finicky cat Opalescence? Those two were practically made for each other with how needy they were) and yanked at my collar out of anxious habit. I wanted to reprimand Rarity for being so thoughtless, but at the same time I wanted to break it to her in such a way that did shatter the status quo for either of us. I was so absorbed in my troubled thoughts that I barely registered the fact that the lights were off both upstairs and downstairs, which wasn’t the case when I first delivered my burnt robes to Rarity and took her to that Le Petit Cheval (a decent bistro, very much French inspired if a little on the pricey side like I had predicted. Its meaning in English resulted in a hearty chuckle every time I thought about it) place she mentioned back in the library for fine wining and dining.
I rapped my knuckles against the top portion of the door and waited, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet to keep my head occupied. After a minute, I repeated the action in case she hadn’t heard me. The shuffling of dainty feet on the other side alerted me that I was indeed heard, and I stood back in antsy anticipation. I swallowed and took a deep breath to calm myself.
‘Be stern but not excessively strict’ I repeated like a mantra.
All that stress stumbled over itself once the door slowly swung open to reveal a sleepy looking Sweetie Belle dressed in a petite pink and white nightgown, “Hello Zenith” She covered up a yawn with a balled up fist, “What brings you by? My sister’s having another one of her episodes and sent me to bed early, I was just in the kitchen grabbing myself a cup of water when I heard you knocking”
“Episodes?”
“You know how she sometimes gets when she thinks one little deviation is the Absolute. Worst. Thing. that can possibly happen to her” Sweetie said as she rolled her eyes, which I was inclined to agree with.
Be that as it may, “That’s uh… disheartening to hear. Where is she? I’d like to give her my condolences in person” I fabricated an excuse.
‘Among other things’ I grumbled to myself.
“I’m young… Zenith, but I’m not young enough to fall for that” Her eyes narrowed, “Why are you really here?”
“Okay, you want me to give it to you straight?” She nodded tiredly, “I’ve recently started dating your sister”
“Ewww… really?” She made a disgusted face, “No offense Zenith… but you could do much better than my sister” She opined.
I expelled a chuckle, “While that is oddly funny to hear coming from your lips, it’s still not very nice to talk about your sister like that. Doubly so behind her back” I upbraided her for her brazen attitude towards her own flesh and blood.
She shrugged unapologetically, “Don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning” She commented, pulling the door all the way back and allowing me inside.
“I have a better idea of what your sister is like than you realize, Sweetie Belle. Now…” I asked, completely indoors within a few strides, “… where might your sister be?”
“Last I checked? She holed herself in her room and locked the door, screaming about her evening being ruined before it even began. You can try banging on her door, but I doubt she’ll come out”
“Thanks Sweetie, I’ll go investigate what’s up and see if I can’t extract her out of whatever funk she’s gotten into”
“Good luck… I guess” Sweetie murmured without any sincerity as she went back into the kitchen to retrieve her glass of water.
I jogged up the stairs to the topmost floor where Rarity’s bedroom was located, stopping in front of a shut doorway that barred any further passage. My keen ears could pick up on the faint sound of rather pathetic sobbing coming from the other side. I resisted a growl once I turned the knob and confirmed that it was indeed as locked as Sweetie had informed me.
The tumbling sound of the room’s door and my attempt to gain entry did not go unnoticed by its occupant, “Who’s that!? Sweetie Belle? I told you to go to bed early!” Came a muffled shout.
I knocked on her door, “Rarity? Are you in there?” I spoke up, feigning ignorance.
“Zenith!?” She gasped, “Leave me be!” A voice sobbingly implored me from the other end, “Can you not hear how distraught I am!?”
“Well geez Rarity, if you’re getting cold feet already, I guess we can simply call off our date” I spoke with fake regret, my anger at her flaring momentarily.
I began to walk away when her panicked voice sounded out, “No wait! Just… j-just give me time to present myself. You can’t rush perfection as you know!” She sallied with an uneven laugh.
Oh she left me wide open for this one, “I’m not rushing perfection, Rarity. I’m rushing you” I smiled as I was rewarded with an indignant huff and a “Well I never!” uttered loud enough that I could hear it even without my honed senses.
“I’m running a bit low on patience here, Rares. So I’m coming in, whether you want me to or not” Giving her little warning, I magically picked the lock and twisted at the knob, pushing the door wide… to receive an eyeful of totally topless Rarity with mammoth mammaries that would make Pamela Anderson at her bustiest go ‘Dayum!’. The woman shrieked and hid herself deeper under the covers of her diamond patterned duvet.
My brain had an encoding error for a moment before I reacted.
“SWEET STARS ABOVE!” I exclaimed, and immediately averted my eyes. Whatever remaining innocence I had left was forever soiled by the image that my brain processed and instantly proceeded to slam the ‘NOPE’ button a half dozen times in sheer consternation.
“Zenith! How crass of you to invoke the name of Luna’s stars like that!” She chided me from under the sheets, momentarily forgetting her current predicament.
I also put a hold on my dumbfoundedness for the sake of correcting fallacies, “Luna doesn’t own the stars, Rarity. Nor does she command them in any capacity. She told me so herself. Otherwise the Night Terror would have been able to use them to escape her banishment beforehand. Luna just adjusts some aspects of the atmosphere so that certain stars can be seen while others are shaded out” And that is not a secret that she shares with many. Though it was something that I always conjectured about from the start.
“Oh… Zenith…” Rarity whin-, I mean… complained, “I didn’t want you to see me like this”
Despite what common sense was screaming at me, I walked over and sat on the bed adjacent in position to her, “Unfortunately… I have. And no amount of brain bleach will ever be enough to purge myself of that memory” I facetiously quipped, before getting serious, “What on earth happened to you? I’m pretty sure that you weren’t that… well endowed previously” I didn’t know what brassiere size she was at the moment, but I highly doubted that it wouldn’t need to be a custom make.
She sniffled and worked up what to say, “I regret to say that this… is the result of a failed attempt at a physical glamorization spell”
“A glamour spell? You tried to enlarge your breast size… using magic? What were you thinking!?” I screeched at her, a ‘What is this… I don’t even’ expression highlighting my countenance. Even the slightest lax of concentration when casting that spell would blow something grossly out of proportion, turning part… if not all of one’s self into a grotesque, misshapen mass of flesh. If measures weren’t taken before the magical energies settled in, then this change would become a hell of a lot harder to revert from.
‘Why ever would she think she’d need to do this? Her cleavage was generous enough as it was’ I’m not really into that kink, but I would never deny that Rarity posolutely had that going for her in the looks department.
“I just… wanted to impress you” She whimpered out.
I took another deep breath and pinched myself to ensure that I wasn’t stuck in some kind of perverse fever dream. The negligible sensation of pain verified that I was very much awake and coherent. Once I had passed over the initial disbelief stage, then came the reflecting phase. It wasn’t difficult to mull over in all honesty. Rarity’s superficial approach to elevating herself in my eyes may not have sat well with me, but I also came to the realization that my tepid stance towards her and the condition of our ‘more than just friendship’ relationship spurred her to find a means of coping. I didn’t like her reasoning for this particular choice, but I could understand why she did it.
I leveled with her, “Look, I’m flattered that you tried to do this for my sake, Rarity. But that’s simply not the way to appeal to my heart”
She sniffled and peeked up at me from her covers with misty eyes, “And what would be the best way to reach your heart?”
“Through my chest I suspect” I jested, before receiving a harsh glare from the emotionally harried woman, “Right, right, that was disingenuous of me. To be candid, the best way to get to me is simply by being yourself (‘Not that it’s been helping your case much lately’), none of this… self augmentation nonsense” It was just plain unnatural if you asked me, and I came from a place where that practice that was all too common. Offhandedly, I wondered if there were any plastic surgeons in this land, or if people just performed magic on themselves like Rarity quite daftly did.
“You mean… do nothing to beautify myself superficially? But my normal self repulses you!” She cut me off before I could protest that statement, “Don’t contradict me, Zenith. It was painfully clear to me the other night that my ‘run of the mill fabulosity’ is not to your tastes. So I sought to enhance my appeal with… other, less than savory measures” Her sparked confidence dwindled once she had said it aloud, realizing how foolish it sounded.
“Clearly it backfired” I deadpanned, making Rarity wince from my directness.
I wanted to rub at my temples in exasperation. Why did she have to make this courtship thing so difficult?
I sighed, “Rarity, I’ve told you this before. If I can’t learn to appreciate, or at least tolerate you at your worst… then I sure as hell don’t deserve you at your best. If I somehow cannot do that, then the fault lies with me, not with you. Just be forthright with me” I fairly stipulated.
“Such sweet sentiments I always hear from you, darling” She crooned, much like she did in the library, “But I cannot for the life of me believe that’s how you honestly feel regarding me”
“Well my opinion of you would be drastically boosted if you ceased inspiring grief in our fragile Fluttershy with your needless gossip mongering” I dryly retorted.
She blinked, “What does our dear Fluttershy have to do with this?”
I blinked right back, “You can’t seriously be telling me that she hasn’t hinted about also having feelings for me in front of you, hasn’t she?” There’s no way Rarity could be that oblivious to her friend’s emotions in spite of her eye for detail, could she?
“Oh my goodness!” She gasped, “She hasn’t spoken a word of this to me! Oh, and I was so excited for our first date that I couldn’t help but share my enthusiasm with her. She must have felt so isolated and alone, but put on a supportive smile for me anyway, the inestimably selfless way she is. Why must I be such a lack wit who is so blinded by her own love struck and swimming emotions that she becomes wholly unreceptive to other’s?” She agonized, full blown drama queen mode engaged.
She slapped a fist gently against her cranium, “Ooooh the signs are so obvious in hindsight now that the truth has been exposed! The twinkle in her eyes whenever I’d mention you, the yearning way she’d look at you when she thought no one else would notice, her erect and unafraid posture whenever you were nearby. She’s fallen completely head over heels for you Zenith!” She vocalized, losing her grip on her bed sheet and scrambling to catch it before she gave me another eyeful of her sizable assets.
“I know” I laconically replied.
Rarity was aghast, “You knew this before? Then why didn’t you go to her and talk about this?”
“I did. Just yesterday afternoon, in fact. We agreed to start seeing each other more often, but we’re taking it slow… as friends for now” I tentatively explained, not remembering if there was a term for the indistinct grey area in between a lover and an acquaintance.
Rarity leaned back, “Oh… that’s most admirable of you then, Zenith”
“Thank you” I accepted her compliment, “But that’s neither here nor now. We’ve got to get this…” I swirled a finger at her concealed chest area, “… under control”
She gave me a sarcastic stare, “And what would you suggest? I’ve been trying to reverse this spell ever since it malfunctioned!” She fussed, intense aggravation marking her tone.
“I thought you said it failed?” I remarked with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Now is not the time to be debating semantics with me, Zenith!” She reproached me through gritted teeth, not reading between the lines in her frustration.
“Very well. How long ago did you cast the glamour spell?” I prompted her with an important question.
“An hour ago… I thought I had it down pat but Opal kept nagging me to refill her milk saucer, eventually she lost her patience and tried pouncing onto me to get my attention. She succeeded, and my casting of the spell went astray, leaving me in this horrific state that you now see before you”
Try as I might, I just couldn’t muster up any sympathy, “I see… I would recommend not trying to reverse the resul-”
“WHAT!?” She cut me off with a bellow, aghast at my advice, “You want me to remain like this!?”
“You didn’t let me finish” I deadpanned, “Instead of reversing it, which in its unstable state could have the extreme effect of ending up shrinking your mammaries until they are nothing, let’s try robbing the spell of its mana feed until it cancels itself”
“And how would we accomplish this?”
‘Oh boy… of all the times my own standpoint had to turn against me, it picked this one’
I inhaled a deep breath before launching into a brief explication, “Magic is most efficiently transferred between two bodies when they are in physical contact. When it comes to acts of magic involving many intricacies, this becomes all but mandatory. I have to… essentially suck out the mana powering the glamour magic using a siphoning spell” I recited mechanically, not eager for her disgruntledly charged response.
“What? No. Absolutely not!” She turned away from me, her lamp’s light illuminating the strands of her hair as it swayed from the sudden movement.
“Okay… so you inflate your breasts to entice me, but you’re suddenly as chaste as a monk when it comes to the physical contact needed to best rectify it? Female logic never ceases to astound me” I commented mostly to myself.
“It is not so simple as that!” She exclaimed, affronted by my wry observation, “A lady who values her reputation does not allow any gentleman who catches her fancy to engage in intimate closeness without extenuating circumstances!”
I raised a critical eyebrow, “So now it’s about your reputation?” I sighed for the umpteenth time, “Rarity, I’m practically the spirit of discretion. This ordeal you’ve gotten yourself into and everything it entails will stay solely between us. No one else needs to know” I assured her.
“While I cherish your tactful disposition, I need more of a guarantee that this isn’t some dastardly excuse for you to ‘inspect my wares’ using your tactile senses” Rarity politely euphemized the situation.
“There are no guarantees in life that will bring you any comfort, Rares. Ah, well…” I exhaled as I got up and made to walk out the door, “I hope Twilight’s not too busy burying her nose in books at this hour!” I strategically opined in passing.
I was halfway out the door when she stopped me, “Wait! Would you really leave your lady to her doom so callously, Zenith?” She tried to guilt trip me into at least staying. My, how shallow some people could act even when their crippling secret was left out on the clothesline to aerate.
“I would if that lady was so fixated on her pride that she let all sense of reasoning slide into the fire” I countered without turning my head, not missing a single beat.
“Why must you torture me so?” Rarity groaned before caving, “Fine! Just promise me that you’ll look away while you do it”
“I won’t peek at the merchandise” I agreed, letting her keep that bit of dignity, “Closing my eyes should help me to concentrate in this task as well”
I returned to her bedside and seated myself beside her. The woman was shaking like a leaf as she mentally prepared herself for what she perhaps saw as a humiliating permittance. I on the other hand, was no less nervous despite not showing it externally. Even the smallest lapse in focus during what I was about to do could spell disaster for the two of us. It wouldn’t be lethal per se, but Rarity would never show her face (or her chest for that matter) in public again, and I would receive a nasty shock from foreign magical feedback for my efforts.
Each living being is subject to the native magic in the space around them, where it flows through them in both directions, in and out. But each creature ‘metabolizes’ it differently, making it their own brand in the duration that it present in their system. This is why there are no two magical signatures that are exactly alike under intense scrutiny, like the kind examined by magically attuned machines such as Twilight’s Spectroscope. You can’t use that same magic to truly disguise your own aura either. It’s like sneaking a Sprite soda with a plastic water cup at a fast food joint. From afar it might look like ordinary water, but up close, one could see the carbonating bubbles that would distinguish it from its non sugary, fluidic cousin.
“Alright…” I idly verbalized to fill the gap of silence that had descended between us, “Are you ready? You might feel a slight pinch once I get started, after that I have no idea if it will hurt or not. But… it’s either a short lived amount of pain, or a lifetime spent putting excessive strain on your spine” I clarified, to which she only vaguely understood, like I was delivering an ultimatum or something of that ilk.
“Please stop talking and do it already” She said in a dead voice, accepting her fate.
I ran a quick diagnostic scan of the spell matrix that was thankfully still active and working its magic on Rarity’s bust. It was nowhere near as complex as the geas that had taken hold of Lyra’s body when I first held an actual conversation with her, but it was not so elementary that I could half ass it and expect to get away without penalty. An idea formulated in my mind as I thought about what I would do with the energies that I would siphon out with a draining spell of abnegation. Though calling it that would be somewhat of a misnomer, since I couldn’t outright deny the spell’s access to Rarity’s body. Instead I sought to rob it of its power until the matrix collapsed on itself and was nullified in its entirety. But good lord, I was basically going to have to grope Rarity for this!
Just as I was about to signal Rarity to lower the sheets and grant me access to her Brobdingnagian bosom, she spoke up, “Wait!”
I stifled the urge to cry out in agitation, “What is it now!?”
She gave me a sheepish look, “Could you… oil your hands first, please? Underneath my dresser over there is a cabinet containing bottles of all kinds, there should be a jasmine scented glass vial in the second drawer” She instructed before I even agreed, automatically presuming that I would.
“Are you serious?” I glared impatiently at her, “Why the scented massaging oils?”
She glanced at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “For Aromatherapy purposes darling, it will help steady both of our fraying nerves. Please?” She gave the pouty moue that she used to coerce others into doing her bidding.
“Fine” I growled, before retrieving said bottle and dabbing my hands with a few droplets of it. The oil was pungent, and soon the invigorating smell of jasmine flowers assaulted my nostrils with unexpected ferocity and took the majority of my olfactory senses hostage.
“A few more shakes than that, if you would, Zenith” Rarity primly requested. I grumbled unintelligibly but complied regardless.
I emptied the rest of the bottle and roughly tossed the empty vial into the wastebasket, where it shattered in a glassy noise that made Rarity flinch. I made sure my facial expression was as flat as possible as I showed Rarity my hands and wiggled my fingers, “Happy?”
“That depends on how thorough of a job you do, my dear Zenith” She said in a tone that she must have thought coquettishly sultry, content to let me interpret her innuendo however I chose.
“You’re getting comfortable with this whole breast reduction business awfully fast” I vacantly observed, kneading my knuckles together to spread the oil evenly.
“I’m making the most of a poor situation, dear. Is that a crime?” Rarity coyly replied, enjoying this far too much for my tastes, and we hadn’t even started yet.
I ignored her for the time being and refocused on my task. Rarity lowered the blanket once again and I leveled my sight on a boring, not sexual in any way spool rack. However, because it wasn’t terribly well lit in the room, I had to take a few guesses before my hands found their target. I put an excessive amount of force into my snatch and grab though, because Rarity yelped loudly once the deed was done.
“Ooh! Gently please!” She supplicated to me, and I lessened my grip. My face was heating up in spite of my efforts to disregard how misconstrued this whole thing could be perceived.
“Sorry…” I apologized, “… and stop squirming, it’s ruining my concentration” I commanded her in a no nonsense tone.
“But your hands are ice cold, Zenith” She griped in an unmistakably whiny voice, shivering.
“No, they are not” I asserted, “But the massage oil that you insisted I put on is. You can’t have everything perfect all the time, darling” I jeered, using her favored epithet for close friends against her, “Now for lord’s sake, hold still”
She huffed in umbrage to my snide response, but thankfully stayed quiet from there on out. Meanwhile I was silently grateful that I only grabbed the topmost anterior portion of her mammaries, sparing her some embarrassment and me some additional awkwardness.
I activated my channeling spell once my magic made contact with the glamorization charm and went to work at undermining it. I felt a twitchy slash greasy feeling as the foreign magic passed into my system and endeavored to bond with my own mana supply. With how uncomfortable the sensation of vegetable oil filling my metaphysical veins was; I formulated an uninvolved way to shunt it out of my system, via magical burn off. Lifting one hand up and away from us, I channeled a second spell in the form of the Sound Sphere (which was tinted a light blue from the seamstress’s mana that was powering it) and had it play Beethoven’s Für Elise.
“Oh my, such beautiful sounding music” Rarity observed, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. I only saw this through my peripheral vision though, not wanting to void my promise and dishonor us both.
“My tastes in music are eclectically expansive in their scope. And right now I’m in the mood for a bagatelle” I conversed as we waited for the remaining energies to be cannibalized from the glamour matrix. Rarity might not have been as talented as Twilight when it came to casting magic, but she was still well above average compared to most Stellar Magi when it came to capacity, so she had pumped a substantial amount of magic into this partially failed spell.
“How cultured you are” Rarity smirked, “There must have been many women who had their eyes on you back where you came from”
I snorted, “An overstatement if ever I heard one. Besides, there were no women back home who were worth my time, so I never bothered with any of them”
Her smirk sagged once she heard the coldness in my voice, “I see… who was the composer of this number?” She asked, wisely changing the subject.
“A man who wrote one of his most famous masterpieces while clinically deaf” I edified her, the notes of the song soothing my frazzled mind.
Her eyes scanned the ceiling as she searched her information banks, “Really? I’ve never heard of any such composer before. Did he conduct any performances at one of Concordia’s concert halls?”
“I’d be confused if he did. Ludwig van Beethoven is a composer from my world, two centuries removed from my time. Long since deceased, and before his time in the opinion of many of his contemporaries”
“A shame. But, at the very least I can appreciate his legacy through you” She laid back and let the plush pillow devour a few more inches of her physique.
We did not speak any further after that aside. Mercifully, there were no snags as we went through the procedure of bleeding the glamour spell of its magic and using the energy for other spells (hard light spells ate up the most mana, so they were the preferred figurative release valve spell). Part of my imagination likened it to drawing the snake venom out of a bite in multiple suctions. Before long, the glamour matrix was completely deprived of its fuel, resulting in Rarity’s mammary size slowly but surely shrinking back to their less generous, but respectable cup size until it was like Rarity hadn’t screwed up to begin with.
“You can breathe easy now. I’ve disabled the glamour spell and everything else appears to check out” I got up, and grabbed a hand towel to dry off with, “I presume that our date is a no go?” I said, looking back to see her verifying the results of my solution for herself. She seemed satisfied, if not somewhat vexed at herself for going through with her unarguably harebrained scheme to ‘spruce up’.
She shook her head, “Not necessarily. I wanted us to go dancing tonight, remember?” She motioned for me to turn around while she got dressed, “I found your foreign classical music to be rather charming, might we perhaps dance to more of that then? You can turn around now” She notified me.
I rotated in place to see her normalized self clad in a flowing gown that was a pristine white like freshly driven snow, and was studded in ground up flecks of various gemstones, scintillating in the moonlight like outrageously expensive sequins. I would never contradict that Rarity was a beauty… even if she had some less than desirable quirks hidden under that prim and pampered exterior of hers; such as the one she exhibited not five minutes ago. None the less, I would not begrudge her a dance or two, as long as it was to my tune.
I summoned a new Sound Sphere using my own magic and had it play a profound melody that echoed off the walls due to the enclosed acoustics the room.
I walked up to Rarity and offered her my hand, “May have I have this dance, my lady?” I went through the gentlemanly motions that Rarity had an infatuation for as she barely suppressed a squeal of delight.
The woman let me lead, as was customary according to the olden dancing traditions of my world and hers. And just like at the masquerade in the capital palace ballroom floor, she was completely content with laying her head against my chest as we swayed to the rhythm of the song. We swelled during the higher tempo segments and twirled when it switched itself up. All the while I was multitasking between guiding the woman in my arms around the floor and wordlessly reflecting to myself. These were rare moments for me to momentarily let go of my troubles. Sometimes I felt as if I only tolerated Rarity, acting the role of her gentleman prince instead of really putting my all into this relationship. But from the searching way she was gazing into my eyes, I could tell that she legitimately felt something for me that went beyond the desire to fulfill her fantasies. It was convincing enough that it made me begin to develop doubts about my reservations regarding her.
We ended up dancing the rest of the night away, our steps illuminated by the starlight streaming in through her balcony window screen.
⁂
Dearest Zenith
I cannot begin to tell you how dearly it warmed my heart to hear that I was primarily the main reason for you volunteering to represent your adopted hometown at the games. Speaking of which, the games are the singularly most important event that has happened to the Kingdom since its reappearance into the world. The streets are more bustling than ever now that we’ve officially begun to expand our boundaries to accommodate our new citizens, who are very brave for leaving behind what they knew for a fresh start in the North. At first I had worries about the Crystal Heart being able to provide enough power for us to gain more shoulder room without risking our safety, but amazingly enough, it’s only gotten even stronger. I vaguely recall that our recent influx of permanent residents is responsible for this. The extra people means more emotional energy for the Crystal Heart to propagate, in an exemplar of a positive feedback loop. Or at least according to what one of my more well read friends helpfully summarized for me. I simplified it as this, the more goodwill that is radiated by the citizenry, the stronger the Heart becomes.
The temperature barrier even has the effect of fertilizing the soils hidden beneath the melted snow! This was most wondrous news, especially now that we’ve officially received a semi permanent Valkyrian weather team to tend to the skies and ensure that our crops are well watered when needed. I remember overhearing one bread vendor and local crop owner muttering that they weren’t as eager nor as efficient as that one chap he hired not so long ago, which made me laugh and silently agree with him. It would appear that I was not the only person you made a long lasting impression on, Zenith. Oh, how I look forward to seeing you again! Are your arrangements for staying in the Kingdom settled? If not, you are always welcome to stay with me.
Our Kingdom is flourishing Zenith, and at a rate that eclipses even the days before the reign of the wretched King Sombra, who usurped the throne and asserted his foul dominion over our people. His replacement, Princess Cadence, is that monster’s utter opposite, embodying the ideals of a just and fair ruler. I once caught a close look of her Mana Mark when she summoned me over for tea once. Is it fate that it closely resembles the Crystal Heart keeping us all alive and happy? I so terribly wanted to ask her how she gained it, but couldn’t work up the courage for fear of broaching on a sensitive topic. Her husband and Prince consort, Shining Armor, has been personally training our sports team to make the best first impression we’ve had in over a thousand years of absence.
On the subject of the games participants, I recall just last week that we welcomed some foreign visitors from across the Sea of Tranquility. Strange men and women they were, their eyes were sharp and piercing, their noses curved and long, and their wings were noticeably larger than those of our Valkyrian friends and possibly yours. My memory is still foggy from residual magicks of the curse that Sombra cast on our Kingdom and all its inhabitants in his last act of defiance… but weren’t the Gryphondrians once a loosely united collection of fierce kingdoms that Arcania contested with frequently? If they are now here not to conquer, but to simply compete, then I worry that this world has changed far more than we had possibly realized. My friend Agatha tells me she still believes half of the new books they receive are works of fiction, so farfetched are the contents illustrated inside.
Oh I want to keep it a surprise but I’m so full to bursting that I must tell you! I’ve recently been chosen by my fellow denizens to represent them on the newly formed intramural parliamentary council alongside a few others. I was quite shocked by this, since I tend to mind my own matters instead of actively walking among my neighbors and associating with them regularly. I asked around as to the reason for why, and the leading response was that it was due to my skill in discerning the true nature behind things and rendering it as clear as daylight. Now that I cogitate on it, that would be a useful skill for a politician to have, no? Still… I can’t help but feel some apprehension about approaching this. It’s a big responsibility to be making calls that affect the greater unit in its whole. Something that I never had to do back… back when my hus- (There was a dried water stain on the word, smudging it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she was referring to though. Poor Crystal). I apologize… I still get choked up when I think about my family, but I must move on with my life the best that I can so I can honor their memory. A bit of motherly advice from an old nag like me to you, Zenith. When you do find a woman… or women to love, I’m not one to judge the old ways… hold onto them tight and never let them go. Treasure every moment that you share with them and don’t ever take them for granted. You’ll never know how long you’ll have with them to make memories worth reveling in.
But listen to me rambling on and on to you. I’ll have plenty of time to catch up with you once you arrive, assuming that you’re not too busy supporting your friends in the games. As a newly elected member of the intramural council, I’ll be rather preoccupied on the board of adjudicators for the games, but I’ll keep an eye out for you in the crowds. Oh how I hope that I’ll judge the participants fairly! Feel free to stop by during the off hours of the Athletic Events though, my door is always open to you!
With deepest fondness
~Crystal Clear
P.S I expect to meet both Daring and this cellist of yours some day. Now that I’m an upstanding member of the government, I feel as if I should have practice handing out my seal of approval.
I smiled imperceptibly as I imagined Crystal’s voice narrating the contents of her lengthy dragon fire delivered letter (She had a penchant for being extremely chatty over the mail I’ve noticed). Albeit I had no idea why she would want to meet Octavia when I hadn’t even mentioned her since before I left the capital city for Magiville. I had been keeping correspondence with Crystal over my time in the aforementioned town, carefully avoiding certain details and bare boning others for discretion’s sake. The unsullied emotion that she projected into her written words translated even over their ink boundaries, speaking much about the character of their author.
It was a day shy of the second week of December; a superstitiously unlucky number for a Friday, but I placed little stock in the concept of luck. The uniquely crystalline train car that myself and most of the Magivillian sports team were packed into hitched upwards as we hit a bump in the tracks, roughly jarring me out of my thoughts. The disturbance was likely due to a chunk of ice that had managed to freeze onto the rails despite the antifreeze enchantments placed upon them. It was frosty enough as it was back in the town, but here in the North where the land is almost perpetually locked in winter? Forget about it. If you weren’t a modestly clothed Valkyrian or made out of liquid hot chocolate, you were going to be cold, as our non Skyborn companions occasionally complained of in spite of the air conditioned train cars.
We were traveling in style to the Krystal Kingdom for the weekend, being conveyed there on an intimidating looking train that was constructed almost entirely out of multi shaded corundum crystal, much like the city-town where it had originated. Based on the fresh smell of the cabins and the radiating shine of every conceivable surface (and I’m not just talking about the crystals either), it was brand new, perhaps this was the train meant to replace the one that I-... I mean, that one jerk with the fiery claws derailed during the first heart pounding adventure I found myself dragged along on when I arrived here. The Maidens, Spike, and the other four Elements were in another car along with the non participant townsfolk, doing their own thing or practicing flag twirling in the case of the adolescent flag bearers.
The seat less cabin I was occupying was alive with a flurry of activity and the combined chattering of over a dozen separate voices. Much of Magiville’s sports team was in the middle of exercises to keep their bodies in shape, while the others conversed amicably amongst themselves. Among them was one of the most buff Valkyrian men I’d ever seen, and he was a fellow red eye to boot! He was holed up in one corner of the open cabin bench pressing well over four hundred fifty pounds of weight without breaking a sweat (No idea what for, since he was in the aerial relay team alongside Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy). Though to compensate for all that muscle, which put him on par with many Agrarians, his speech was severely limited to a few terms that he enjoyed shouting boisterously even when folks were right in front of him.
“All right listen up everybody! I have a few things to say before we arrive in the Krystal Kingdom to kick some ass and take some names at the games” Rainbow Dash confidently announced aloud, silencing all other talk and causing me to put the scroll of a letter back in my adventure pack next to the bottle of dragon fire that pulsed faintly whenever I had mail.
Once Dash had every person’s attention, she continued, “I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s thinking that these will be the greatest athletic games ever! Unlike certain non Stratopolis hosted ones from my childhood” She muttered somewhat bitterly under her breath, “Each and every one of you is a part of the delegation that represents our incredible town of Magiville, you’ve all trained very hard to get to this point and I want you to feel proud of yourselves. I know I certainly am” She started clapping her hands together, an action that was soon copied by everyone. With the exception of myself that is… freaking conformists.
Once the applause died down, she pressed ahead with her pep speech, “No matter the sport you’re going into, I want you to know that I think we’ve got a real chance at taking home some Gold to mount over our hearths!” She declared genuinely.
The audience cheered enthusiastically, psyching themselves up like they weren’t from a relatively backwater town about to go up against some very professional teams from the major cities. Eh, I had a soft spot for underdogs, so I’d give them the benefit of the doubt.
My sharp hearing sifted through the noise as Dash once again whispered under her breath, “Though I won’t kid myself when I say that Bulk Biceps, me, and Fluttershy don’t have a snowball’s chance of beating the Wonderbolts… which is ironic, given the scenic, frozen location just outside the window”
I got up from the floor and walked beside her, laying a hand against her shoulder, “Just give it your all Dash, that’s all anybody can ask of you. Besides… weren’t you always chomping at the bit for a chance to square off against your idol, Captain Spitfire, in a race?”
“Of course I am!” She grinned at me, before it faltered, “But I’m also nervous… Spitfire isn’t the Captain of the legendary Wonderbolts for nothing. She may not have the raw speed that Fleetfoot has in spades, but she can flawlessly handle a corner at high speeds like no one can, and she’s tied skills wise with the versatile Soarin in everything else”
She glanced back at Fluttershy, who was currently spotting for Bulk Biceps as he upped the weight by another fifty pounds, “And I’d be jittery enough if it were only me going up against them all. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps aren’t really the best in the air. I can’t imagine how well they’ll thread the needle during a real relay race, what if they crack under the pressure? I’m an awesome flyer, but I can’t carry the team by myself” She admitted as she shook her head wistfully, dispirited by her teammates less than impressive deftness.
I used my sagely tone, “I think you’re cutting them short, they wouldn’t have agreed to participate if they didn’t trust in themselves and in you. Have faith in your friend’s abilities to see you through to the finish line, Dash. I certainly have faith in yours. Heck, if you need extra motivation, just pretend that it’s me in Spitfire’s place and that I had just pranked you with that laxative soda again, you’ll be bypassing her in no time at all!” I joked lightheartedly.
She thumped me on the shoulder for the reminder, “I still haven’t forgotten that!” She hissed. She tried to look angry with me, but a smile cracked on her lips as she snickered, “That’s not bad advice though. I’ll keep it in mind”
She addressed the passengers one last time, “You hear that? Even Zenith here has faith in our skills, and he’s only the pre game entertainment!”
‘Girl, are you in for a surprise’ I thought amusedly. She wasn’t the only one brushing up on her skills for the games for most of the past month.
She leaned over to me and whispered in request, “Hey, do you think you can get me the autographs of the Star Seekers? They’re one of my favorite bands”
“I’ll see what I can do” I chuckled in reply.
She nodded, “Cool. Now are we going own these games or what?” Dash put a hand to her ear and cupped it. A chorus of affirmative responses, including a spirited ‘YEAH!’ answered her, “That’s what I want to hear! GO MAGIVILLE!” She thrust her fist into the air.
“GO MAGIVILLE!” They echoed vociferously as the train banked over the rolling hills, the snow beneath its wheels gradually turning into verdant green grass.
I looked out the window, seeing the city-town where all of this had started for me on the horizon. Crystal wasn’t kidding when she averred that they had being doing some expanding. There were significantly more buildings lining the landscape than I last recalled. The temperature acclimatization barrier had to have been at least fifty percent larger than what I remember it being in order to fit so many new people. Houses and homes that were built out of wood and brick dotted the fringes, in stark contrast to the original crystalline buildings of the snowflake shaped district stamped into the snow. Of which, many of them were general goods stores that offered things that couldn’t normally be found in the Krystal Kingdom, while they doubtlessly exported items from the Kingdom that couldn’t be found anywhere else for a profit.
Within another five minutes, our ride had pulled up at the station and its passengers began to file out in droves. Spike made himself useful and carried a tall, wobbling stack of luggage containing (mostly Rarity’s outfits) the accoutrements of the participants and set it down on the platform where the wheeled carts awaited (I reluctantly surrendered my fully loaded adventure pack to one of those carts with the assurance that that Guest Reception Service would see them to our lodgings). I heard the Maidens pestering him to make sure that he unloaded the case containing their disassembled flag and he reassured them that he did. He was about to double back to retrieve the next load when two local guards in their shiny gem styled armor carrying a litter swooped in out of nowhere to snatch him up and haul him off, much to his shock and confusion.
Twilight saw my eyebrow raise itself at the odd sight and giggled, “They’re taking him on an tour of the town to honor him in front of the people. They consider him to be a hero around these parts you know, being single handedly responsible for keeping the Crystal Heart from the clutches of Sombra long enough for Cadence to activate its magic and destroy him forever. They actually refer to him as Spike the Brave and Glorious” She sounded equal parts prideful and aporetic.
I shrugged, “So long as he doesn’t allow it to go to his head. Otherwise he’ll become Spike the Superficially Vainglorious” I cynically remarked.
“Oh hush, you. He’ll be the same sweet boy he always is” She softly chided me before gesturing me to follow her, “Come, you and I are to meet Princess Cadence for lunch”
I rolled my eyes, “I’ve already met her before, Twilight. As a matter of fact, she’s the first Princess I ever came across” Outside the realm of video games anyway.
“Then she’ll be happy to see you again!” Twilight cheerfully exclaimed as we walked the reflective roads leading towards the citadel.
I sighed and accompanied the bookish girl to see her old babysitter, being regaled with other stories of how wonderful Cadence was as we made for the stairs of the citadel. As we traveled, I couldn’t help but notice how… sparkly everything was, like it was buffed and polished several times over in preparation for visitors, which it in all likelihood was. We passed by a carved statue of Spike holding up a replica of the Crystal Heart with some tourists posing and taking pictures by. I glanced at Twilight and she mouthed at me ‘Hero worship’ and said no more. We passed by the guards (who didn’t recognize me from before, and why should they? I’m a tad bigger than when I first nettled them for passage) and up the stairs that caused me so many problems in the past. Instead of going straight for the throne room once we were on the right floor, we made for one of the side chambers instead.
The first thing I observed once we stepped indoors was Spike lounging back on a Victoria style gem studded sofa like a lazy bastard while being fed crystal berries of varying colors by one of the citadel’s attendants.
The boy chewed before swallowing, “Mmm… more of the green ones, please? I really like the green ones” Spike asked the woman above his head, who anxiously shuffled among the pile for the greenish berries, which were rapidly dwindling, in order to please her charge.
“Twilight! I’m so glad you could make it!” A familiar voice greeted us. I turned to see Twilight rushing towards the Princess who embraced her in a hug. They detached and did this weird patty cake thing involving sunshine and awoken ladybugs, or something of that girlish ilk.
The Princess disengaged from her former charge and turned to face me, “Ah… Zenith, it’s been a while since the last occasion I’ve seen you. You’ve certainly grown in the short interval since then” She surveyed, having to crane her neck up at a slight angle as to look me in the eyes.
“I blame magic” I cheekily replied, earning another hopeless glare from Twilight at my lack of etiquette for royalty or the sanctity of magic, “And I still haven’t ceased growing, before long I fear that I might tower over most people, and therefore no longer be able to retain my propensity for being naturally stealthy” I came off as flippant about it, but in truth it was a real bugbear of mine.
“Perhaps” She agreed neutrally in a terse voice, “I’m told that you will be performing in the opening ceremony of the games?” She posed a rhetorical question under the guise of making conversation, motioning us towards a glass table with crystal chairs where lunch was served. We all took our seats and let a moment of quietude pass in graceful gratitude to the meal’s provider before digging in.
I resumed our discourse, “I will be performing alongside the Star Seekers, yes. When will I meet with them, by the way? I’d like to know what my temporary band mates are like before we take the stage together” I explained my reasons as I helped myself to a hearty portion of salted crystal corn on the cob. I hadn’t done any research into the band, even though I would be playing beside them in a few hours time. Hell’s bells, I had only just learned that they were one of Rainbow’s favorite bands for crying out loud!
“Right after lunch is finished. After all, you must be very hungry after the long trip getting here” She answered, enjoying a jammed slice of bread herself, “And we have much to discuss before then” She asserted, eying me in particular.
Initially lunch was a boring affair, with Twilight and Spike hogging up most of Cadence’s attention (not that I was all that gregarious to begin with. Though my one contribution to the table talk in the form of a revelation to them about my land of origin having a similar event to the games called the Olympics equally fascinated both the bookworm and the lollypop), which prevented us from talking to each other on the level. Albeit in exchange I did get to hear about the event regarding the reappearance of the Krystal Kingdom first hand, learning unknown details left out of the history texts like how Sombra’s influence only got stronger the closer he was to the Crystal Heart. Of how this made the already difficult job of keeping the local people unawares of their dread master’s return even more challenging. After facing their most debilitating fears in the same dungeons where Daring and I relived ours, Twilight and Spike made it to the top of the citadel where the Crystal Heart was hidden. Unfortunately Sombra, in his maniacal deviousness, booby trapped the circle it was contained in, barring anybody within from escaping in time to avoid his wrath. However, Spike was outside the circle at the time that Twilight haplessly activated it and tossed it outside to within his reach, so she had to entrust the Crystal Heart to his care.
Long story short, Sombra’s shadowy mass chased Spike down the citadel with Benny Hill music blaring in the background (or at least, that’s how my imagination portrayed it), nearly catching and corrupting the Heart in the process. If he succeeded, it would have spelled the second downfall of the Kingdom and the re-enslavement of its inhabitants. Through some stroke of luck (or was it fate?), Spike masterfully played the game of keep away from the big, evil nasty and managed to deliver the Heart to an exhausted Cadence right on time for her to call upon the goodwill of the Krystal people, empowering the Heart and allowing it to vanquish Sombra forever with an engulfing sphere of bright light that counteracted his dark shadow (Or so they might lead themselves to believe).
‘How very symbolic’ I thought to myself as I polished off my fourth plate of food, something that garnered me some disbelieving and rather disgusted stares from most of my company, Cadence excluded (Who merely looked amused). I glowered at them to mind their own business while I continued to chow down on the remnants that were left on the food platter.
“Well! I’m sure you’re excited for your own role in the games Spike!” Cadence announced, diverting the attention away from me, which netted her a minimal sum of my gratitude.
“You bet I am!” He said, pointing a thumb at himself, “I’m going to be the first dragon to light the ceremonial torch… well, half dragon anyways” He self consciously amended, rubbing at his very much human arm.
“That’s good! You should be confident when you take your first steps onto the platform. You’re representing a lot more than Magiville in this regard you know” The Princess tipped her glass of lemonade at him in emphasis before taking a dainty sip of it.
“I am?” The boy asked, not thinking beyond his limited viewpoint.
“But of course! You’ll be representing the whole of Arcania itself this noon!” Cadence clarified, not noticing Spike’s growing apprehension at being in a bigger spotlight than he had assumed.
“Arcania… like the entire country?” He tried gulping his fear down, “Right… no pressure then” He chortled nervously.
“I’m glad to hear it. And I’m sure Miss Harshninny will be relieved to hear it as well” Cadence’s eyes flicked to me and I saw the sparking of a plan in their glossy violet depths, “In fact, why don’t you go to her now and have her walk you through the procedure beforehand for practice? Just tell her that I sent you. Don’t worry about your luggage from the station, I’ve prearranged for them to be carted to your rooms” She instructed, politely making it clear that it wasn’t a request.
Twilight joined in her voice, “I’ll go with him. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with Miss Harshninny myself” She stood up from her chair and bowed, “Farewell Princess Cadence, I’ll see you at the opening ceremony of the games, yes?” Twilight inquired hopefully.
She smiled almost motherly, “Indeed you shall my dear Twilight. I’ll be right alongside my fellow sovereigns and rooting my team on from the high seats, as you should with yours”
The two of them took their leave of us with the attendant from earlier shutting the door behind herself to grant the Princess and I some privacy. A transient lull ensued that was pregnant with awkward silence.
She made the first move, “How have you been Zenith? I can see that you’ve changed a lot since retrieving the Crystal Chalice for me not so many moons ago” She spoke in that tone that people use when they reunite with a friend that they’ve been missing. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why she would feel that way, since we hardly knew each other that well. I surmised that Cadence’s affable personality seemed pre-inclined to permit her to connect that quickly with people.
I scowled in restiveness, “I thought we already went over that?”
“I meant more than just your height, you silly man” She tittered, “I was referring to your overall demeanor. Your steps are still calculated, but not solely out of unwonted caution anymore. You’re also more upbeat, self assured, and there’s a purpose extending beyond yourself that drives you ever onward”
A nonchalant ‘huh’ escaped my lips. Her description was oddly close to the mark. Heh, archery terminology before the Athletic Games makes me crack up inside.
“Not that I’m denying any of that, but how could you tell all that about me?” I was skeptical that she divined that for herself, maybe Celestia has been feeding her updates about me.
“Your eyes reveal a lot about you to me, Zenith. Especially when glimpsing into the inner heart of a person is one of the perks of my special calling. I can see what Celestia means when she claims that you would make a fine addition to our ranks. She once said the same thing about me” Cadence disclosed in a trancelike voice, momentarily lost in the past.
“Please don’t hint about me inevitably having to accepting my Prince hood” I griped as I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms, “I get enough of those insinuations from Celestia. I didn’t ask to be sent here… and I surely didn’t ask to be sent as a Trifect” I told her, levitating over a flask of crystal berry cider and pouring myself a drink.
“None of us did” She whispered quietly, intriguing me, “But that only supports our mutual belief further. You were meant to be among us, Zenith. And in my few centuries of life, I’ve learned that everything that happens, does so for a reason”
“It would certainly appear that way. But I don’t wish to discuss the finer points of destiny with you this morning. I find myself in dire need of your advice, oh renowned Princess of Love” I melodramatically stated in my stage voice.
She tilted her head askew, “My advice? On what?”
“I won’t prevaricate here Cadence, but I wouldn’t mind some counseling from someone who is the leading expert in matters of the heart” I divulged, my worries about my more intimate relationships bubbling to the surface from the inky depths whence they came.
She giggled melodiously, “You flatter me, Zenith. I may be the Princess of the Love, but there are aspects of it that continue to mystify even me” She humbly conceded.
She got to the point, “So you seek counsel from me? Very well. The first thing I need to know is, how has your love life been so far?” She examined me.
“It’s been…” I distractedly looked around the room as I cycled through a list of words to choose from in my head. Not finding the precise word, I selected a generally valid one, “Adequate… I suppose”
She was taken aback, “Simply adequate? Not spectacular, or mind bogglingly insightful?” She prodded, her eyebrow raised at my admitted understatement.
I scoffed, “You want insightful? I could quote a passage for you: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres. Love never fails” I recited one of my favorite sections from the good book. It’s too bad I never had the chance to verify most of those truths for myself, until recently anyways.
“Yes, yes it is” Cadence remarked in agreement, nonplussed, “Where ever did you read that?”
“My family’s Bible” I answered, “When I was young, we read passages like that together in our living room. Some of the morals I learned about I committed to memory, to guide me whenever I feel I might be going astray”
‘And boy, have there been times where I’ve clearly strayed’ I thought with a wince.
She idly hummed to herself, “So it’s scripture from your foreign world then… a shame, I would have very much liked to have read it for myself”
“I don’t think you’d like most of it” I flatly hindered her interest, “Regardless, how satisfying I find my love life varies… but I cannot say that I regret opening my heart to others again”
Cadence’s forehead creased itself in confusion, “Again?” She mimicked me in her impression of a parrot.
My face darkened for an instant before it disappeared, “Not something I wish to recount to you or to anyone else for that matter. The past is best left where it is (‘To rot’)” I said no more on the subject, and the steel in my eyes warned her not to ever broach upon it.
“Very well, what’s relevant is that you have now” We moved on from the touchy subject, “Who was the first woman to capture your heart?”
I grinned a bit, “You’ll probably get a kick out of this one, but Daring Do and I are together… at least in spirit these days. What with her long distance job and everything keeping us apart for the time being”
Not one to prove me wrong, Cadence clapped her hands together as a delighted expression graced her features, “I knew it! I knew there would be a mutual attraction between you two!” She chirped, like she had won some kind of bet she had with herself.
“Yeah yeah, gloat to yourself all you want on your own time please. I still have concerns that I feel need to be addressed” I groused, bellyaching over that knowing look I once saw in her eyes that I wound up proving correct never the less.
“Concerns?” She copied me again, that obnoxious smile plastered on her face.
I rolled the glass cup in my hands, “More like doubts, really. Less potent than they were in the beginning, but they have not dissipated completely. Which is why I aspire to listen to your expertise”
“I can only work with what you give me, Zenith. You’re going to have to expound on these doubts of yours for me” She required.
I refilled my glass and haltingly guzzled it down to give me time to think about how to explain myself.
“I’m somewhat of a demisexual, Cadence. I won’t truly find a woman physically attractive until I find her emotionally attractive first. While this has the inadvertent benefit of shielding me from undue temptation, it also causes a menagerie of roadblocks when it comes to actual intimacy” I explicated.
“But you have been… you know,” She rolled her hand, “Intimate?” She over emphasized.
I tugged at my collar, the only sign that this question unsettled me, “Moderately intimate, yes. But it still nags at the back of my mind that I’m intimate with more than one woman”
“Are all relationships monogamous where you originate? I could see why you would have some difficulty adjusting. There are plenty of critics of my husband that excoriate how he only wants me, principally so when there’s a shortage of bachelors who haven’t set up wide scale family units of their own”
I nodded tentatively, “Purportedly, but so many marriages are ruined by infidelity back home that I think it’s more of an ideal than a strict rule we place on ourselves”
Her eyes dimmed at the reality of my blunt answer, “I’m… sorry to hear that”
I waved a hand dismissively, “Don’t apologize for things you can’t control, Cadence. Getting back to my position towards my love life, I’m not afraid of loving or of being loved, but it was never the most stable of emotions for a stoical person like me to grip. My steadfastness is something that I value heavily, and I did not know if love would take it and render that quality nullified. But I do know that it’s a risk worth taking”
“I can feel the conviction in your words. Tell me about those who have earned a spot in your heart, what makes you love them specifically?” She questioned, shifting in her chair to get comfortable.
I wiggled my eyebrows like they were snakes as I mulled it over, “There’s an interesting question. You could say that I’m in love with Daring’s courage in the face of what seems to be certain death, Octavia’s creative spark and sheer musical talent, Lyra’s ability to stay positive when all hope seems lost and inspire that faith in others… and while I’ve only recently officially started a relationship with her, Fluttershy’s immense kindness naturally attracted me to her; I’ve deemed that tender woman’s innocence sacrosanct to me. I love each and every one of these women in their own appealing way” I declared resolutely.
Then came the other half of the coin, “There’s yet another woman who has also captured the attention of my heart, but I’m still dubious as to whether what I feel for her is genuine love or fleeting fancy, ready to be scattered to the winds at the smallest signs of trouble” I left out the tiny detail where she tried to love potion me, since I didn’t want any mind interfering penalty hammer to drop on her.
Her eyes lit up as I ended my monologue, “Ah… so you’re positive about most of them with the exception of the last one. Now I won’t fish for names, but I’d like you to tell me what about this woman estranges you from her”
“She means the best, she really does, and our dates are far less ostentatious than I would have been led to believe, though I suspect that she does this out of consideration for my modest, simpler tastes. But she’s also very vain, placing too much emphasis on the opinions of others that its almost stifling her development as an individual. Her melodramatic antics are amusing at first, but cease to be endearing with the flow of time. If I don’t develop a magnetizing pull towards her that allows me disregard her flaws soon like with the others, I’m afraid that I might never be able to love her like she deserves” I listed solemnly.
“I’m also faintly allergic to the hair her cat sheds… and she’s not getting rid of her feline Opalescence anytime in the foreseeable future” I included offhandedly. That was verging on a lie, but it would have been truer had I not been a Trifect.
“Love cannot be measured with time. It simply is when it is” She proclaimed with a gesture of her hand, “It sounds to me like you’re in this relationship because of something that she sees in you. I won’t advise calling it off with her right now, but if you don’t begin to feel anything for her in return soon, then I suggest coming to her with these concerns. If no solution can be ascertained from there, then it would be safe to say that you are a poor match for each other and should see other people”
“Thank you for your honesty, Cadence”
“I wouldn’t fret much about it, Zenith. Love that is meant to be always finds a way, you can add that to your memorized scripture wisdom” She smirked at me, “I do have one last question for you before we need to cut this reunion short and go to our respective stations for the games”
“Anything within my power to shed some light on is yours to ask, your highness” I melodramatically responded, provided it didn’t cross any lines.
“Tell me, Zenith. You’ve relayed to me what your scripture says about love. But what do you believe it is?” She solicited me for my view.
My inner geek resurfaced, “Definition: ‘Love’ is making a shot to the knees of a target one hundred and twenty kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope. Statement: This definition, I am told, is subject to interpretation. Obviously, ‘Love’ is a matter of odds. Not many meatbags could make such a shot, and strangely enough, not many meatbags would derive love from it. Yet for me, love is knowing your target, putting them in your targeting reticle, and altogether… achieving a singular purpose… against statistically long odds” I quoted mechanically, an oddly reminiscent look on my countenance.
Cadence’s jaw slowly picked itself up a few moments after I finished my speech.
“Such is the wisdom of HK-47” I supplemented, breaking her out of her non-computing funk.
The dumbfounded look on her face was priceless, “I’m sorry? I don’t understand. I felt like I was speaking to a different person for a moment” She vigorously shook her head to clear it, “What was that all about?”
I cracked my neck side to side, “I’m strange, Princess. Hadn’t you figured that out when we first met?”
“I found you to be different than most people, the whole ‘beyond the cosmic veil’ issue aside, yes” She granted me, “But it was never that pronounced!”
“That’s only just scratching the surface with me, Cadence” I grinningly replied.
“I hope this reunion is decidedly less straightforward than the one you’ll surely have with Shining Armor in the ring” Cadence said, reevaluating her no doubt shaken opinion of me.
“Is he still sore about the paperwork I put him through? Because I thought the replacement train was a pretty sweet ride” I amusedly quipped.
“I managed to assuage most of his frustrations since then” She uttered to me with a concupiscent curl of her lips, “Though he is looking forward to seeing your progress in the games”
“Hope he’s ready to have his expectations defied” I cockily commented, and not without cause either. I had gotten nearly implacable with the Claymore, its strengths and weaknesses now entirely known to me.
“Time will tell” She glanced upwards at something behind me and inhaled sharply, “Speaking of time, we’re close to being due for ours. Do you still remember your way around the citadel?” She inquired, rapidly getting to her feet.
I did the same, “You have a directory system carved into the walls, don’t you?” I questioned back, recollecting on the floor maps sculpted into the walls of the citadel.
She inclined her head forward in a dip, “Yes, but you won’t need to use them. Just follow the rainbow line from the throne room to the bridge linking the citadel to the second floor of the stadium. The guards, along with a reformed person I’m sure you’ll recall, will be there waiting there for you” She hinted mysteriously as she made a beeline out the door.
“The Star Seekers?” I randomly guessed, nothing immediately coming to mind.
“You’ll just have to find out for yourself!” She called back to me, “Good luck out there, Zenith!” Came her last words as the doors shut with a click.
I sighed before pouring myself a third glass of crystal berry cider juice (Which was still overrated by the way). Licking my lips at both the flavor and the anticipation of the event about to start, I rose from my seat and exited the room. I walked down the colorful magically traced line to the staircase slash bridge separating citadel and stadium. Halfway across its length was a familiar man with a clipboard in his arms and who was flanked by two guards.
“Jomar?” I let out, almost not believing my eyes.
I took in the man’s changed form. No longer did he wear his ghastly pelt; instead he sported a business tie to complement his pinstriped Victorian ere gentleman’s suit with black slacks. He was also mounting a pair of rounded reading glasses over his blue eyes that made him seem much more refined in contrast to his course looking features when I first met him. He also came off as… happier, than last I saw of him.
“Hail to you, oh great and merciful Zenith” He greeted me in his accented voice, though I could tell that he was also losing parts of it in favor of the local one.
‘Wonderful… I’ve assimilated him with my suggestion to the Princess’ Still; it was better than tossing him in a cell and throwing away the keys.
“And a howdy do to you too” I amicably returned, “What have you been up to lately?”
“Community service to her most wise majesty, Princess Cadence. As fair punishment for my role in aiding and abetting in the theft of the Crystal Chalice, I’m to serve as the court logistics official for the foreseeable future, as well as your personal aide during the games. Any and all questions you have regarding the rules of the event that you’ll be participating in, you can direct to me, and I will do my best to elucidate on them for you” He proffered his services.
My eyes flicked to the expressionless men (‘Pfft… guards’) over his shoulder, “And the armed escort?”
“I insisted on always having at least one guard nearby to prove that I mean to atone for what I’ve done. While the Princess was fine with restricting me to a house arrest, I felt that more measures had to be taken to ensure that I do not relapse into my old, mercenary ways” He briefly explained.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Jomar. I’ve deduced that it must have been you who purposely dropped the codex page that pointed us in the right direction, what with you being the group’s material manager and all. You should have mentioned that to Cadence, you might have been given an even more lenient treatment, seeing how you aided us as well”
He flinched, but was impressed, “That-… I did not think anyone would notice that”
I smirked, “Well I did, the only thing I want to know is, why’d you do it?”
“Ahuizotl was never the most mentally stable of employers… and he never stopped yearning for power. My group tolerated him because he paid well, but I had a sinking premonition that we needed to refuse him our services before he got us into a situation where we would all die… which sadly, happened anyway. I thought that if I could sabotage this last heist, we could spend the rest of our lives in a dungeon alive… rather than buried in the earth because of some madman’s ignoble dream”
“I’m sor-” He cut me off before I could sympathize for his loss.
“No! Do not apologize for doing the right thing, noble Zenith. My comrades have committed numerous atrocities during our tenure as the Wild Cats… sooner or later, death would come for us to collect its due for our crimes” His eyes watered as he looked up at me, “And yet you found it within you to spare me, when you had reason enough to put me to the sword. There are no words in your language or any other to express the gratitude that I feel for you because of that”
I clapped him on the side of his arm, “That’s because I saw that you could be redeemed, and that your skills could be used for the greater good. I’m gladdened to see that you have not proven me wrong”
He bowed his head to me, “And nor will I ever. I owe you a life debt that cannot be adequately repaid”
I shook my head, “You don’t owe me anything, just live your life in the service of those who cannot help themselves”
“As you decree it, so I shall commit to doing so” He emotionally agreed, before strictly getting down to business, “The lighting of the ceremonial torch is soon to commence, would you like to see it up close?”
“I would”
“Then follow me, please” He spun around and walked away, with his escort and myself in close pursuit.
We soon found ourselves on a tall gallery platform overlooking most of the Crystal Stadium, which itself was about the size of most American football stadiums back home. Hundreds, if not thousands of spectators from all over the land were congregated in the stands, waving flags or blowing on elongated flugelhorns to show their collective crowd spirit (They also had those inflatable balloon stick things to thwack together, which utterly baffled me). With my sensitive hearing and being this close up, the roar of the people was all but deafening to me. I picked up our group’s pace until we neared the jutting platform where a very Olympic-esque torch stood proud in the warm beams of the midday sun, waiting to be set alight.
On the grassy field below were dozens of competitors from neighboring cities, towns, and even countries in the case of the Gryphondrians. They were gathered in one large mass and all of them were wearing jackets demonstrating their team colors, along with symbols embossed into the fabric. I could see a fully uniformed Shining Armor in his full set of Princely regalia pacing the ground while presiding over the proceedings. He was somehow projecting his voice without a microphone headset and over the din through speakers that were bolted all around the stadium’s walls above the audience stands. He was currently announcing the delegations of the flag bearers representing their respective places of origin as they filed out onto the field, marching in a manner that reminded me of the happenings before the Boonta Eve Classic pod race. Among their number were three proud young girls carrying the flag of Magiville (which was a clan-less male and female silhouette on a yellow background situated next to a Valentine heart with filigrees sticking out of the bottom) in unison. They circled the outer ring of the elongated hexagram of playing field once before planting their banners into posts dotting the boundaries. Even from this distance, I could make out the joyful smiles on their faces.
All was not well however, as I could see a trembling Spike and a aggravated looking, middle aged, and corporately dressed woman who must have been Miss Harshninny, who was towering over him and glaring at him disapprovingly by the base of the torch. I motioned for my company to stay where they were, while I got closer to make out what they were speaking.
“Did you not hear me? I just gave you the signal. That’s your cue to climb that ladder and light the torch!” Miss Harshninny austerely pressured him, tapping the heel of her shoe against the metal floor of the platform, making a solid clacking noise. Spike could say nothing in his defense, preoccupied as he was with sweating, shaking, and generally looking like he was about to wet himself from stage fright alone.
“Pardon me, but what seems to be the problem here?” I cut in, mostly to divert the fuming woman’s attention from Spike.
She tore her glare away from the boy to point it at me, “Excuse me Sir, but this is not a matter that concerns you” Harshninny rudely dismissed me without a second thought.
I narrowed my eyes, “Wrong, Spike is one of my friends, and whatever is affecting him right now concerns me greatly… now step away from the poor boy and give him some breathing room” I commanded in an official tone that brooked no contention.
Harshninny glowered at me for the rebuking retort, but begrudgingly obeyed, taking a few steps in reverse while I crouched down to Spike’s level and spoke more comfortingly to him than my predecessor.
“Hey pal, what’s wrong?”
He acknowledged my presence by meeting my eyes, “I can’t do it… I just can’t! There are just too many people, too many of them looking at me. I can’t hack having all of this attention on me, it’s strangling! It’s so bad I can’t work up my flame!” He tried to breathe his signature green fire, but a pathetic sputtering noise came out, accompanied by a few streams of useless smoke, “See!? Oh, I’m so going to let everybody down” He despaired, hunching over to make himself smaller, as if he was hoping that he could shrink small enough to disappear.
‘Wow… his fear of being the public eye is downright debilitating’ I thought as I took pity on the harried lad.
I leaned closer to him, “I don’t care for the spotlight either, Spike. But I don’t let it paralyze me to the point of physical inaction” I made a curling gesture of my two fingers so that he would lean in, which he reluctantly did, “Let me tell you about a little technique that you can use called ‘tunnel visioning’. Close your eyes, count to ten, and breathe deep. In that time, I want you to calm the storm raging in your mind and in your heart, okay?”
He listened to my advice, shut his eyes, and steadily inhaled through his nostrils. When I sensed that he had lowered his heartbeat enough, I continued with his patchwork lesson, “Molto Bene! Now I want you to focus so hard on this task that when you open your eyes, everything else just becomes a blurred wisp at the edges of your vision. Can you do that for me?” He nodded fervently as he squinted, “You can open your eyes now” I told him. Two green irises uncovered themselves and stared into mine. My serene presence seemed to be having a positive effect on him, because he was no longer quaking. I’d have to press my advantage before I lost it.
I grasped him firmly by both shoulders and forced his slitted pupils to meet my rounded ones, “You may not look it for the most part, but you have Dragon’s blood coursing through your veins, Spike. That makes you capable of some extraordinary feats. I think lighting one lousy torch pales in comparison to saving this entire kingdom from the likes of the wicked Sombra, don’t you think?”
He still looked relatively unsure of himself, “But what if I screw it up in front of everybody, with all of Arcania to watch me fail?” He sagged even lower, “I should just stick to the sidelines and let them delegate this task to someone else” He demurred, lingering doubt still eating away at his resolve.
“You’ve been sitting on the sidelines for long enough” I gently admonished him with a pat on his shoulder blade, “It’s time to step into the light once more”
He took another deep breath, looking more spurred on than before, “You’re right, I’ve been lingering on the sidelines for so long that I almost don’t want to leave its safety. A-all right. I can do this! I can do this!” He shouted louder with each sentence.
“Sometime today would optimal. Mr. Half Dragon” Harshninny inserted her opinion on the subject, standing adjacent to us, “Preferably in the next thirty seconds or so” She unhelpfully amended, tapping her watch impatiently.
I ignored her, dedicating all my attention on the young boy, “That’s the spirit! Now that torch over there is mocking you by remaining unlit, are you just going to let that insult to your courage fly? Or are you going to show it who’s boss!?” I boomed at him in challenge, inspiriting him to act.
“I’m going to show that stupid torch what’s what, like a boss!” He answered me vehemently, sprinting towards the ladder with a battle cry like yawp. He climbed up the rungs with the fervor of a dozen angry monkeys before reaching its summit. He then inhaled so deeply that his chest was distended to the point where it looked like it was about to pop off his torso, before unleashing a torrent of flame into the kindling bowl and igniting it in a burst of orangey fire that gradually turned blue.
“Attaboy” I whispered, feeling a surge of pride for him.
My company was not impressed, “Hmmf! He shouldn’t have to be encouraged to light it in the first place! That was his only duty for the games, and a simple one at that! How hard was that for him to do when I gave the signal? But noooo… he needs a pep talk from some random passerby who just happens to know him and a pat on the shoulder before doing his job” Bitchninny piped up with a scowl, crossing her arms together and habitually acting like an utter bitch.
“This random passerby happens to be one of the games participants, and also a close friend of their Royal Highnesses. You would do well to mind your tongue” I authoritatively recommended to her as I indicated in their direction.
With timing that couldn’t be more perfect, the aforementioned Princesses waved to me from their box seats (more like portable thrones) in the splendidly royal portion of the stadium, which I returned with a two finger salute. Among them were several other figures, some of whom I recognized (like Blueblood, our town Mayor, and Fancypants with his two wives). Others were clearly from foreign countries, as evidenced by their odd clothes or disparate statures. The man with the turban and elegant robes must have been Sultan Mahad (Who was otherwise occupied with bickering with the lavishly dressed woman who must have been his wife). The other figures I could not recognize right away, but they looked fairly distinguished with their intricate headdresses.
Harshninny’s blood drained from her stress wrinkled face once she realized that she had risked angering someone of visible importance, “I retract everything I just said! Spike here did an bang up job, I know I certainly couldn’t light that torch without a box of matches!” She laughed nervously, her stern demeanor cracking in the face of what could have been termination on the spot (If I was feeling excessively vindictive anyway).
I raised a single, incredulous eyebrow, “Nice save… Miss Harshninny”
Spike came rushing back with a smile on his face, “Zenith, Zenith! Did you see that? That was one of the strongest gouts of flame I’ve ever ejected!” He exclaimed as he hugged my stomach.
I patted him on the back, “Congrats Spike, you’ve demonstrated great bravery against your fears today”
“Wait… You’re Zenith?” Harshninny spoke up, “I’m to take you to the field right away. Would you be so kind as to follow me, please?” She bothered to make her request courteously this time.
“You know, you’d probably get better results if you asked people to do things nicely more often in the future”
“I’ll keep that in mind” She seethed through gritted teeth, “Now come! You’re to be part of some mystery demonstration for the people’s entertainment” Without waiting for me to respond, she stomped off down the hallway opposite of the now burning torch.
I sighed, “Gotta go, Spike. You go sit with the rest of the girls and enjoy the games, alright?” I told him as I mussed his hair affectionately.
“I will, and cut that out!” He pulled back and struggled to get his hair tidy again, but I could tell that he was cheerful again.
Turning to my entourage, I gesticulated for them to stay on my tail and speed walked to catch up with Harshninny, who hadn’t even bothered to look back and see if I was keeping pace with her.
I heard her muttering bitterly to herself as I flanked her, “The things I have to put up with in order to ensure that the games progress without a hitch. Next thing you’ll know they’ll have me assist in putting on something insipid, like rock concerts”
“Actually, that’s happening today” I grinningly corrected her, “Hope you like the Star Seekers!”
She sighed irritably and pushed a palm to her face, “Uggh… Celebrities” She moaned despondently.
We descended the stairways until we were at ground level. Some people that were late rushed to grab their seats as they jogged through the entrances. Large Agrarian men dressed in suits, caps with badges on them, and black shades instructed the Stellar Magi among them to pass through a special gateway that glowed with a screen of teal colored energy. When the disgruntled tourists traversed through them, the screen adhered to their skin before accumulating around their focal gem and seeping inside. I saw them blink in confusion as the items they were carrying in their levitation fields fell to the floor with a clatter, forcing them to grumblingly carry their things by hand.
Remembering my promise to Celestia to play fair, I elected to go through one of those gates (much to the puzzlement of my companions, since I didn’t have my usual rhinestone on my head), mildly curious to see how it would affect someone who didn’t even have a focal gem. Rather disappointingly, the magical inhibiting field didn’t feel like anything as I passed through the projecting archway. It still clung to my skin like with the other Mages, but instead of concentrating on my forehead, it did so on my eyes. Just like with the magic disrupting rings, my connection to my internal supply of mana felt distorted and harder to call to the fore. In the event of an emergency, I theorized that I could just grab at a chunk of my magic and brute force the lock on itself, but prayed that there wouldn’t be a need to do so. The officials at the gate gave me uniformly strange stares, despite the shades masking most of their expressions, but asked no questions and granted me passage.
Harshninny conducted us through multiple winding corridors and past several occupied locker rooms where the athletes were washing off or relaxing before their scheduled events. After the last set of doorways, we were on the field. A mobile platform was in the final stages of being assembled in the center from individual pieces, while technicians set up various allotments of equipment in preparation for the opening concert. I even saw pyro technicians adjusting the flame launcher nozzles to synchronize with floor pedals on the stage. The only people who were not toiling or otherwise assisting with the finishing touches to the setup work were four individuals who were clustered in a circle in a sequestered area covered by folding screens serving as the unofficial back stage.
The first to attract my notice was the sole woman in the group, who had platinum blond hair, was wearing a purple shades (though they didn’t hide her eyes like Vinyl’s did), and displayed the Mana mark of a bass guitar on her hands. The second fellow was sporting a classic rocker look, with a white bandana wrapped around his forehead, a bright orange jump suit covering his body, and a two toned red and white flying V guitar that he was tuning in his arms. The third guy was visibly shorter than his colleagues and had long, brown, shoulder length locks and armbands with gems on them. The last was probably the most casual looking of the four, with nothing unusual to describe except for his short and curly navy blue hair that almost looked like a trimmed Afro.
“The concert is scheduled to begin in five minutes, acquaint yourself with your stage mates in the meantime. And for Princesses’ sake don’t hesitate like your friend Spike did” Harshninny spoke her peace before pirouetting on the tips of her feet and leaving without so much as a farewell. Bah, good riddance to her!
The sound of her harsh, grating voice caused the four band mates to peek up from whatever they were wasting time with to look at us. The classic rocker dude smiled and greeted us, “Ello there! Is one of you the mystery extra we were told would be performing with us?” He asked in a cockney accent (native to Troddingham I believe), eyes flicking between Jomar and myself.
“Yes, I am” I answered, receiving his full attention.
“They sure grow ‘em big wherever you come from don’t they?” He got up and thrust his hand towards me, which I shook, “I’m Arpeggio, the group’s primary guitarist”
He held his palm out and swept it towards his band mates to introduce them in order, “That lovely poppet o’er there is Stella, our flawless bassist” The woman nodded to me, but stayed silent, “Shorty o’er here is Beryl, our drummer”
“Heyo!” He excitedly chirped, flipping his drumsticks in the air and twirling them about in his fingers.
Arpeggio motioned towards the last man, “And last but not least, Octave ‘ere is typically our pianist, singer, and synth instrument player”
‘Why do I feel as if these people should be familiar to me?’ I mused, trying to place their names and coming up with bupkis.
He bowed his head formally to me, “I look forward to working alongside you mister…?” He fished for my name in a voice as smooth as silk.
“Zenith. And the feeling is mutual” I replied absently, really obsessing over where I’d heard these names before.
“Zenith, eh? Heh! You’ll fit right in with the Star Seekers” Arpeggio confidently declared with a grin, “So, while we’re cool with taking to the stage with a fifth member and having to play interesting songs that we didn’t write, we’d at the barest minimum would like to know what role you’ll be filling in as” He requested.
“Vocals mostly, though I’ve dedicated one song that I’ll have to borrow the piano from Octave for” I glanced apologetically at the man, “Sorry”
He held out his palm forgivingly, “It’s all right. But did you just say that you dedicated the songs that we’re to perform?” He asked as his eyebrows shot up in intrigue.
“Uh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that I’m the one who wrote down the lyrics and tablature for the songs that we’ll be singing?”
“Really?” Stella vocalized for the first time, “You’re the one who produced these songs?” She held up a stack of paper that had the tablature and lyrics that I inscribed scant weeks beforehand.
I borrowed a page from the Apple family, minus the pseudo lying, “Eeyup. I trust that you’re okay with performing them?”
“We wouldn’t spend weeks rehearsing them if we weren’t. And while they’re different from most of what we’ve seen and heard ourselves, they’re different in a way that I personally find groovy” She said with a tiny smile, which I mirrored in gratitude.
“It’s too bad we weren’t able to rehearse all together, that way our coordination would be assured” I bemoaned.
Octave chortled, “Relax man! Just let the music take you and everything will work out fine. That’s one of the wonders of performing music in a group, you know?”
“It sure is. You’re each knowledgeable about the order of songs that we’re playing in, right?” I double checked with them.
“Yah huh!” Beryl spoke up, “Three songs, the first is for the games, the other two are dedications to special people in the crowd that you’ll be taking over from Arpeggio and Octave for”
“That’s correct!” I expressed with a chuckle. The small man’s enthusiasm was almost as infectious as Pinkie Pie’s. Almost.
“You sure you two don’t mind?” I directed to them, pleased by how gracious they were for admitting me into their cadre without issue.
“Nah, that just means less work for us!” Arpeggio uttered with a lazy drawl, with Octave concomitantly concurring with a thumbs up gesture.
“You’re on in a little over a minute” Jomar politely informed from beside me, “I wish you the best of luck and look forward to hearing what kind of music you’ve composed for everyone present” He departed us, with his escort trailing closely behind him.
“Right! That’s our cue!” Arpeggio blurted out and turned to me with an animated expression, “C’mon new guy, we’ve got a concert to rock!”
All of the band members got to their feet and carried their instruments with them if they were portable. I tagged behind them as we hopped up the steps and into full view of the public, who cheered even louder once they could see us. I heard Shining Armor’s voice announce our arrival by name.
“…You’re in for a special treat today folks! We managed to recruit the ever popular Star Seekers to provide some bravado for our opening concert. For those of you who aren’t in the know, they’ve recently released their latest studio album: Sun Surfer, to countrywide acclaim! So give it up for Arpeggio, Stella, Octave, Beryl… and to mix things up a bit, they have an extra member joining them! Please give a warm welcome to… Zenith, from Magiville!” He proclaimed, a slight stutter in his voice after reading off my name. Apparently he wasn’t expecting that.
The sounds from the crowd (triply so from the Magivillians, who stood from their seats) were absolutely earsplitting as each of us took our positions. The stage itself was grand, with several steps and podiums for the musicians to move about if they so desired. There was a panoramic screen fixed to a gantry above us that had a plethora of swirling stars projected onto it, and I assumed that it would change scenery as our concert went on. I went to the forefront of the stage where a cordless microphone with a glowing gem at the end was waiting for me. In my mind I was slightly worried that with my magic cut off I wouldn’t be as effective on stage, but I crushed those worries once I reminded myself that the best thing about muscle memory spells were that they eventually ingrained whatever you did with them into your natural skillset. And I went overkill on the pregame practice in my music chamber back in my cloud home, so I was pretty much covered for this.
I snatched up the microphone in my hands and engaged my showman’s demeanor, “What’s shaking people? I trust that the scenic Krystal Kingdom has been treating you well so far? I’m Zenith as you’ve all heard, and these magnificent people behind me are the Star Seekers!” I motioned behind me with a thumb, “On this momentous day we’re going to be performing some never before heard songs exclusively for you! Are you feeling pumped yet?” The crowds roared their agreement to me.
I cupped a hand to my ear, “I’m a bit hard of hearing, what with all the practice we’ve being doing leading up to this event” I fibbed as I stretched the truth a negligible amount, “So I’m going to ask you again… are you stoked for this!?”
The response I got was brain jarring it was so thunderous in volume.
“That’s more like it!” I pointed to Octave, “Hit it!”
Octave began plunking on the keyboard of his grand piano, which was somehow hooked up with the speaker system despite not having any visible connected wires (it must have been the same magical crystals that were fitted onto the end of my microphone. How incredibly useful those puppies were) as the opening notes of Muse’s Survival filled the stadium. The rest of the band and myself began snapping our fingers, which the crowd soon emulated. When it came time, I sang the lyrics to the best of my ability, trying very hard to imitate Matthew Bellamy’s unique vocal style (It was a shame that I wasn’t dressed as outrageously as he usually was during concert, otherwise I might have been able to channel his persona more easily. I guessed that the standard jeans and a tee combo would have to do).
When the lyrics reached the first crescendo, jets of flame spewed out of the diagonally pre-aimed nozzles surrounding the stage and upping its badass factor by five, erupting several more times over the course of the song. Arpeggio really showed his worth as he danced around the stage with his guitar in hand, doing all kinds of eccentric postures as he shredded at his strings. Stella and I bobbed our heads to the beat during the periods focusing on the guitar solo. The reception from our audience was immensely well received as the song ended with one last emission of fire, and I was worried that many of them were going to wear their vocal chords out with how tumultuous they were at the moment.
“That my good people, was a number named Survival. Fitting for the Athletic Games, wasn’t it?” I remarked to them, exchanging hands with the microphone.
I wiped a bead of sweat off my brow, those flame ejectors sure ran hot, “Some of you Star Seekers fans out there might not approve of this, but I’m going to be stealing Arpeggio’s role for this next song, which I’m dedicating to three very special young ladies who did a smashing job of touting my town’s flag” I announced. I couldn’t pick them out in the numerous throngs of people in the stands, but I imagined that they were quite surprised to be referenced.
Arpeggio relinquished his instrument to me without protest and headed backstage, likely to crash on the couch and refresh himself with a drink of water. I could hear some people in the stands groaning their disappointment at this change of plans. I snorted to myself. They were going to feel silly for doubting me.
I walked back up to the microphone, “What? You folks thought I was only good for lyrics? Allow me to dispel that notion” I took the plectrum wedged between the A and E strings and began strumming the beginning notes of Jimmy Eat World’s The Middle.
The guitar work for this song was relatively simple, with a few repetitive single string notes, double string notes, and power chords composing the majority of it. The guitar solo was a tad more difficult, but I like to think I nailed it. Even though I had to devote much of my attention to my instrument, I still provided the lyrics, which were sung with the Mana Mark Maidens in mind. It was a shorter song than our first, but the audience seemed to like it regardless, I’m sure the Maidens did at the very least.
Arpeggio had a punctual sense of timing, because he came back to the stage right as the last notes faded. I made a melodramatic showing of returning his guitar to him by kneeling and presenting his ‘axe’ to him in medieval fashion. He must have interpreted this a sign of respect, because he flourished a bow in response as he accepted my kingly gift. I then stood up and kicked Octave off of his bench so I could appropriate his piano for the last song. Thankfully, Octave was one of the backup vocalists alongside Stella, so there was no need to take my mike with me and affix it to the countertop of his piano.
I angled the device upward so I could speak into it, “Again, I apologize for uprooting yet another member who has been doing a superb job under the limelight. I might have to check out their new album for myself!” I jested, with the aim of alleviating the hardcore fans in the audience’ fear that I was just some no name, upstart schmuck who was hogging the glory from those who deserved it more. Perhaps I was, but at least I was a philanthropic show stealer.
‘Poor Beryl and Stella, they’ve been performing nonstop’ I thought to myself as I saw them catching their breath. The two of them had great endurance though, and showed no sign of permanently tiring. Beryl in particular warranted some recognition, since he had been the most active member during the concert.
“Anyhow, I won’t tell you who this final number is dedicated to, I’ll just let you figure it out for yourselves” Letting all the late night hours spent practicing music in my acoustically optimized chambers at home guide my movements, my hands pressed down on the smooth, ivory keys of the piano as I began to perform Drops Of Jupiter in earnest. I quickly risked a glance in the direction of the royal box seats.
I had gotten Luna’s attention by the fifth line, I couldn’t make out her expression from down here, but she did visibly scoot forward in her throne and gripped at the arms of her seat before casting a look at her sister, as if questioning her. When her sister merely sent her a half shrug at her, she spent the rest of the song watching my every movement like a hawk. Internally, I prayed that I hadn’t garnered her disfavor and kept a reflective expression on my face as I delved into the chorus. The lyrics to this one would confuse a lot of people, who wouldn’t know who Mozart was, or what the heck tae-bo entailed, or even that you could deep fry chicken. But it was a fun song to sing along to none the less, something I actually caught Stella doing (She had thoughtfully pushed her microphone out of the way so her voice wouldn’t pick up and overshadow mine). I reckoned right then that she was a sucker for mildly romantic music.
After the last dedication played out in its entirety, the Star Seekers and I bowed as a group before a thrilled audience as Shining Armor praised us for a riveting concert and officiated over the official declaration that the games were now in session (as soon as the stage was painstakingly disassembled, that was). Each of the band members clapped me on the back in celebration and admitted to me that they weren’t expecting somebody they had never heard of before to perform the inspired way I did. My entourage emerged from wherever they were observing the concert and Jomar congratulated me on an excellent show (he confessed that he had never heard of rock music before, but found it invigorating in a way that would increase the morale of the spectators) before offering me to take me to my seat next to the rest of the girls until it came time for the duelist’s event. I accepted and received an equally warm welcome from my friends and the Maidens, as well as a handwritten note in cursive from Luna saying that she appreciated the kind gesture of me thinking about her and committing it to song.
The next two hours passed by like they only lasted minutes. My friends and I watched various events of the games and cheered on our fellow Magiville neighbors whenever they manifested. Like true underdogs, the participants from our sleepy town consistently placed in second and third place, preeminently earning us the leading number of medals won with Stratopolis in close second. I had never been to an Olympic event myself, but I imagined that these games weren’t far off in similarity, although the Olympics didn’t have sports like jousting matches (Which the inhabitants of the Krystal Kingdom utterly dominated, unsurprisingly. Part of me likened it to the Canadians and their hockey; such was their home field advantage).
The girls, especially Rarity, fawned over the couples ice skating event (Which was won by a married couple from Vanclover). The Gryphondrian delegation was extremely competitive in a fast paced sport that was known as Skycleaver, where the goal was to hunt down the opposite team’s flag, which would be hidden on one of the opposing team member’s person, while also protecting their own from capture. It was like flag tag in a way, except it took place in the air, and kept you on the edge of your seat with how suspenseful it was. The games were a three day happening, and the aerial relay race was slotted to take place tomorrow, so Rainbow and Fluttershy were currently elsewhere working on passing the baton in white knuckled preparation instead of watching the games with us. I couldn’t begrudge them their prudent choice, if I could be wielding a Claymore right now against highly coordinate shadow sparring partners, I would be doing just that. Their competition was stiff too, Gryphondria and Stratopolis had the best flyers overall, while Magiville really only had Dash and the other two teams had average contestants.
When it came time for the duelist’s event, Shining Armor handed over the responsibility of announcing to someone else and headed elsewhere to trade in his princely demeanor for a soldierly one. Jomar was there for me as always to notify me that I was needed to take to a different stage.
“Jus’ where are you goin’?” Applejack interrogated me once she spotted me trying to sneak away. She was the closest in proximity to me, and the previous event didn’t have any Magiville natives in it, so I wasn’t shocked that she paying more attention to her surroundings than the others.
I held a finger to my lips to stop her from speaking too loud, “To possibly earn Magiville another medal to add to its collection. I’m aiming for gold” I told her with a grin.
“Yer competin’ in the duels, Zenith? How come ya never told us?” She asked me, her eyes becoming razor slits of disapproval as she stared me down.
My grin became a smirk, “Because you never asked” I repeated that same thing I said to her sister.
She puffed a stray hair out of her eyes and snorted, unamused, “I shouldn’t hafta do that. But I wish you the best anyways, pardner”
“Thanks AJ” I slipped into the shadows before the others got the opportunity to notice that I was leaving.
I kept close to Jomar and his escort as he took me down to the locker room area a second time. Only on this occasion, the locker room was more like a kind of armory, with weapons of various assortments lined up on racks or adorning the walls. Jomar spoke with the one of the men minding the armory and pointed at me. Several other competitors were weighing in on what to take with them onto the field, as well as sneakily examining their competition in their peripherals. The man regarded me with a critical eye before searching his wares and tossing Jomar what looked like a full body suit that was made out of a kind of chain mail that was in my size. Jomar thanked him and carried it back to give to me for putting on over my normal clothes.
“What are these for?” I inquired, scrutinizing the weave being held in my hands.
“Magically enchanted chainmail armor that is to register to the judges whenever an opponent scores a strike on you, as well as provide protection from the blunt force of the magically dulled blades that every competitor will be brandishing. The severity of the strike is also taken into account, but the average number it takes to win a match I’m told is three. While it is permissible to daze your opponent using any other part of your body, only hits with weapons will be counted” He helpfully elucidated, while adjusting his glasses so that they’d fit higher up on his nose.
“Ask if they have those body weights for the Agrarians and bring them to me if they do” He did as I bid him and returned to me after several trips with the heavy metal bands that I was to clad myself in underneath my chainmail suit.
“But… m’lord, are you not Valkyrian? Won’t you be unnecessarily limiting yourself with these?” Jomar expressed in confusion, watching me don the body weights.
“I like to challenge myself” I tersely explained as I fluidly sidestepped the question, “And do refrain from referring to me as lord, if you would please” He stammered out an apology that I ignored as I got dressed.
After I slid the armor (which even covered my noggin) and weights on, I took a walk around the room as to adjust to the fit, finding it to be not too tight and not too loose. I also multitasked and considered the numerous swords that were on display, all of which had dulled blades with tapered edges. My eyes locked onto a five and a half foot long two handed Claymore sword with slightly angled quatrefoil terminations and a leather ricasso wrapped over the beginning point of the forte for gripping. I smiled toothily and knew that this was the weapon of choice for me. I pried it off its rack and hefted it in my grip. The thing I loved about the Claymore was that despite having such a long reach, they were remarkably light, which allowed for the wielder to recover his weapon moderately fast. The leather ricasso was an added benefit because it would allow for me to choke up on the blade and switch to a close combat style should my opponent close with me.
“Oh yeah…” I declared to no one specifically as I admired the mighty blade, “…this will do nicely”
“That is most fortunate, as yours is the second match in the sequence” Jomar clued me in.
“And who will my opponent be?”
“By game conventions, I’m not at liberty to reveal that information. Not even to you, great Zenith”
I sighed in faint dismay, “That’s fine, Jomar. I’ll be finding out for myself soon enough I suppose”
As if on cue, a blaring sound like that of a basketball buzzer echoed into the room from outside, followed by the announcer broadcasting the winner of the match over the speakers. I discerned a crimson paint used to dye armor attachments and applied four lines of it under both of my eyes in front of a vanity mirror as a kind of war paint.
“Once more, I wish you the best of luck, great Zenith” He verbalized, saying nothing about the strange pre match intimidation technique.
I rubbed my fingers clean on a polishing rag, “Won’t need it, but thanks. Now if you’ll pardon me, I have a wager to win for somebody” Either Cadence or Celestia, but I had no intention of losing out there.
I care-freely waltzed out into the hallway before making my way to the field. The new stage for the dueling event was elevated and ovular in shape, consisting of several plate like squares that were interlocked in place. I ambled without hurry up the steps and onto the platform, where my opponent was awaiting me.
My eyes widened imperceptibly once I took notice that it was a woman that I was to be primarily dueling. It was harder to tell with the chainmail covering most of her hair, but her feminine face and lips were unmistakably female. She was average height for a woman, though that made her much shorter than I, which could prove to be problematic if I accidentally let her get too close. Her skin was whiter than average, almost milky in complexion. The strands of tri toned silver, white, and pink hair that were sticking out of her suit overlapped with dark, sapphire blue eyes that were icy and calculating, studying me in the same way I was with her. In her hands were a wickedly curved hand axe and a black dagger that looked like a bat’s wing. Clearly, she favored a close quarters style based on those armaments alone.
‘Perfect, it’s not even the second match and I already have an opponent who can rip me a new one if she gets up in my personal space’ I griped to myself, roughly gripping the hilt of my Claymore until my squeezing of the handle was audible.
The female announcer’s voice shook me out of my brooding, “In one corner we have a native from Shady Hollow, and in the other we have a rather familiar looking contestant from Magiville. Who will be the first to score three strikes? Can the music man fight as well as he sings? I don’t know about you people, but the sheer anticipation for this match is getting to me!”
“I really like your hair!” I randomly blurted out to her, mostly out of honesty and a mild hope that it would throw off her assessment of me. She snorted a stream of breath through her nostrils, but otherwise did not physically react to my comment. I tilted my head at her and trembled my lip in fake dejection.
She caved and humored me, “What’s that face paint for? You didn’t have to pretty yourself up for little ol’ me” She japed in retaliation. I liked her already. It was a crying shame that I’d have to be swinging a big ass sword at her soon.
“It wasn’t for your sake that I applied men’s cosmetics, my lady” I answered her, eliciting a condescending scoff from the woman.
“I am no lady” She retorted with some spite.
Not one to be outspoken, I shouted to her, “Neither am I! We have something in common!” I grinningly replied.
‘This opponent seems to study my eyes more so than my movements… perhaps I could use that to my advantage’
“It looks like we have some pre match bantering going on here! Let’s put a stop to that, shall we?” The sound of a bell being struck signaled the start of the match.
Faster than I would have given her credit for, black wings sprouted from her back and propelled her forward, closing the gap between us in scant seconds. My training kicked in and automatically had me leaping to the right to dodge her lunging swipe. Bringing the Claymore to bear, I diagonally slashed in her direction and nicked her in her dagger arm. The area on the armor where I had struck glowed a faint yellow, forcing her to reevaluate her position as she circled around me.
“And we have metaphorical first blood! The challenger from Magiville has scored a grazing hit. Ten of those will mean the end of the match!” The announcer communicated with glee.
I kept my sword pointed at her with both hands grasping it. I could tell that my hit, no matter how petty, had gotten to her pride. Gritting her teeth, she charged me and attempted to bash her way past my defenses with her axe and dagger. Putting the length of the Claymore to work, I kept her at bay and backtracked while she probed at my stalwart position. She grinned as she did something I did not expect and used her wings to leap over me with a flip (kicking me in the face while she was at it). I felt two blades poke at my backside and send me stumbling forward.
“Ooh! Looks like the woman from Shady Hollow has repaid that first blood with interest! Two critical hits on the Magiville native, one more will spell the termination of this bout!”
‘Not a favorable situation’ I slapped myself mentally, ‘Gotta up my game’ I wiped at my nose with a forearm to get rid of the pinchy sensation.
Shady Lady pressed her advantage and gave me little time to recover, clashing at my sword a second time with the intent of scoring one last hit and winning. Her arrogance was making her careless however, and once I spotted an opening to exploit, I slammed the pommel of my Claymore into her chin and marked a red gash into her stomach with a horizontal swipe while she recoiled. My blow had stunned her for several seconds, which allowed me to disarm her axe hand with a follow up strike. Only left with her dagger, she made a furious flurry of stabs and slashes that were easy to ward off with fanning motions of my sword. This back and forth went on for a minute before she tried surprising me a second time with her leap over tactic. This time I knew what to expect, and I pretended to fall for it with my eyes. As she utilized her wings for lift and committed herself to the maneuver, I ducked onto my knees and thrust upward forcefully, nabbing her in her stomach and scoring a penultimate hit. This also simultaneously knocked the wind out of her and sent her reeling. She landed roughly on the ground in a heap, just barely holding onto her dagger. I rushed forward to kick it out of her hands and haul her to her feet, before gripping her by the neck and lifting her off the ground like she weighed no more than a doll. With my blade at her throat, I slowly slid the weapon across the chainmail and initialed my final strike onto her metallic flesh, looking her in the eyes all the while.
The horn blared and signaled the end of the match.
Contrary to the fierce way I was man handling her just seconds prior, I gently put her back on her feet and went through the trouble of dusting her off by the shoulders.
“It was a pleasure dueling with you, Miss…?” I courteously fished for a name.
The woman glared at me with that same frigid stare before quietly replying, “Moonbow” and turning to walk away without another word, or asking for my name in return.
“What a match!” The announcer exclaimed in excitement, “After a wily maneuver by the competitor from Shady Hollow that left him verging on a loss, the competitor from Magiville wizened up and got his act together. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat and coming out on top. He moves on to the next branch!” Her, frankly annoying, voice rang in my ears as I walked off the field and to the armory to wait until the next round.
The second match was nothing worth mentioning, mostly because my opponent; a tall, lean man of Gryphondria, only fought the match halfheartedly. I could tell that something was troubling him, but was too busy deflecting the lightning swift stabs from his rapier to ask him about it. The man only scored one glancing hit on me, while I managed to score all three of mine on him in succession once I socked him in the solar plexus and took advantage of his windedness to go crazy with my Claymore. The horn blared and I could all but feel the disappointment in the crowd’s muted applause at how fast it was over. I decided to follow up with this man and see what the deal was.
“You alright there? You seemed… distant during the duel. Is there something wrong?” I asked him as we descended the steps down from the platform.
There was a mote of uncertainty in his eyes as he regarded me. He indulged me though, “I apologize profusely for boring you, good sir. We men of Gryphondria are proud to be representing our great kingdom in the games, but the tidings back in the homeland are ill. My King is sick, and growing increasingly frail with every passing day… I worry for his health, and for the future of my country. Needless to say that it weighs heavy upon mine heart” He answered somewhat poetically, not diverting his eyes from some ambiguous point in the distance. I felt my admiration for this man increase, in spite of how he all but threw the match out of bleak sentiment. He seemed very loyal to his liege.
“I’ve heard about that. You have my condolences, for what they’re worth. Although… he has an heir to take his place should the worst occur, doesn’t he?”
The man scoffed derisively, “My King is a wise and just ruler, but too lenient a father” He said, twisting his head to the side and derisively spitting into the grass, “Princess Gilda is not fit to take her father’s place, let alone sit upon the Onyx Throne. She does not even see fit to involve herself in the affairs of her own people! Instead she remains here and shirks her obligations to the land of her birth” He glanced sidelong at me, “Not that most of us blame you” He amended, intriguing me with his word choice.
He sighed pessimistically, “I fear that the prestigious Gryffindor bloodline has exhausted itself of that prestige”
I was at a bit of a loss. What could I possibly say to that?
“Well… I’m sorry you’ve come to that disheartening conclusion Mister…?”
He put on a cordial smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes, “Victor… Victor Valcroft, of the eponymous house Valcroft, sworn servants to his Majesty, the King. You fought well today, my friend. You’ve certainly forced me to reconsider my opinions on the quality of swordsmen that this kingdom produces” He complimented in a voice that skirted the line dividing sarcasm and sincerity.
“I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess”
“As well you should. Farewell” He also forwent the desire to ask for my name in return. Pssh… jerks.
The third match was harrowing. Apparently, a prominent member of the A.S.M.V guard decided that participating in the games would be good fun. He was a massive Agrarian man who was built like a bulldozer, and who eclipsed even Big Macintosh in both size and strength. He wielded an enormous ovular shield that was taller than most of the girls. Emblazoned on the shield’s surface was an ornamental golden, metallic Eagle screaming defiantly with its wings outstretched at any who would dare challenge its owner. In his other hand was a long Halberd that could cleave opponents in two if it were sharped. Still, I imagined that getting whacked with that thing would hurt, so I’d have to be careful for this one… more careful anyway.
‘No fair! He gets a shield and a big ass Spear-Axe!?’ I thought as I gulped down my apprehension at facing such an intimidating looking opponent.
The bell rung out and the man charged me with a swiftness that belied his towering bulk. Stifling a yelp, I feinted left and deceptively circle strafed to the right using my wings (I desperately hoped that nobody from Magiville recognized me when I did that). His recovered equally quickly though, and was back on me in moments. Whenever I would block a swing of his Halberd, he would bash me with his shield and sent me scuttling backwards. His flash bruiser build came at a cost however; as he couldn’t pivot in place nearly fast enough to prevent himself from getting flanked. Borrowing a page from Moonbow’s book, I drew my sword back as if I was going to swing at him overhead while he recoiled his weapon. He anticipated this and angled his shield back to block a blow that wouldn’t come. The angle of his shield gave me enough purchase to run up and engage the usage of my wings to get within his guard. By the time he spun around to deal with me, there were two critical gashes running diagonally across his spinal column. He returned the favor by slamming the shield into my face and sending me careening backwards into a roll. I spat out a globule of blood as I got to my feet, having bitten into my cheek during my fall.
Honorably, the man ceased his charge and spoke in his deep, bassy voice, “You’re bleeding! Shall I call for the Doctors?”
I absently waved a hand in the air and stabbed my Claymore into the floor paneling to help me stand, “It’s fine. It’s not like I’ve bitten off my tongue or anything” I told him without wooziness as I shuffled onto the soles of my shoes. Trifect durability at its finest.
He nodded and returned to his battle stance, “Very well. Prepare yourself!”
I only just managed to get my Claymore up in time to deflect a lunge of his Halberd. Learning from my mistakes and adapting, I stepped around his shield bash and sliced into his shield arm, scoring a non critical hit, but legally forcing him to drop the shield. I supposed that I should be thankful that they tried to incorporate some sense of realism into these duels. My thankfulness didn’t last though, because the man was no less deadly without his shield. His swings and hacks became faster, and much, much harder to block outright. He didn’t just use the business end of his weapon either, finding excuses aplenty to whack me numerous times with the shaft of his Halberd like it was a Bō staff. While they would daze me if he scored a hit on my cranium, Trifect physiology proved immensely difficult to stun for long, and I was always able to duck under a follow up strike.
We continued this song and dance for an entire ten minutes, neither of managing to find an opening to score a decisive hit and end the match. One of us would have to take a risky gamble, and that person was going to be me. Flipping my Claymore into a reverse grip, I pretended to leave him an opening. With hair trigger reflexes, I caught a downward swipe of his Halberd with my sword and used the momentum, along with my imparted strength, to force it into the ground, where I stomped on the flat of the blade to keep it pinned. With a roar, I planted my free hand into the pommel and shoved my Claymore forward, impaling him in his torso… or that’s what would have happened if these weapons were actually sharpened and we weren’t wearing enchanted chainmail. Instead, there was magical resistance that pushed him back, but left a red mark where my stab registered.
“Unbelievable! The champion from Magiville defeats a member of their Majesties’ armed forces with a clever riposte. He progresses into the final branch of the duelist’s event!” The announcer lady spouted, as enthusiastic as ever.
The man huffed as he caught his breath, “You use unorthodox tactics, Zenith. But after facing you in the ring of honor, I can see the merits of having a flexible fighting style. Well fought” The man commended me, knowing me by name. Not that shocking, since most of the guard knew me around the palace, though I’d never seen this fellow before today.
I offered him my hand, feeling a tad faint of breath myself, which he shook amicably with a hearty grip, “I’m not really unorthodox, I just see opportunities and take them wherever I can. Failing that, I create them” I simplified my strategy for him.
He laughed jovially, “That’ll do it! I’m Tower Shield, by the way. I thought you might as well know my name since I know yours”
“Mighty decent of you, Tower Shield” I nodded my respect, “I’m going to find a nice bench to collapse onto now” I headed back to the locker rooms, dragging my Claymore behind me from fatigue and brooding along the way.
Even though I was still mobile enough to dodge the attacks that most opponents I faced would throw at me, the body weights were inevitably taking their toll, and I was growing alarmingly slower in my movements. I prayed that there would be a nice ten minutes before the ultimate showdown with Shining Armor; otherwise I might be in trouble. Regretfully… Fate itself seemed to be conspiring against me, and only granted me five before Jomar told me to get up and haul myself back to the ring for the most challenging match yet.
A bombshell of a reunion awaited me in the ring. Shining Armor was there, looking ridiculous in full chain mail. But standing across from him was a familiar face I hadn’t seen in a while. The man’s eyes widened perceptibly once he became aware of my presence.
“Zenith!” Came the surprised voice of Silver Sword, “Since when did scouts participate in dueling tournaments? And since when did they get this far?”
“Have you no faith in me Silver?” I quipped in good humor, “I thought I proved myself plenty capable when we faced that snow dragon together”
“Aye, that you did” He conceded with a smile while tilting his head questioningly, “Have you grown since then? I don’t remember you being quite so tall before”
“Save the bantering for after the duel, gentlemen” Shining Killjoy rudely cut in, “We have a three way to fight”
I barely resisted the urge to snerk like a juvenile at his terminology, but saluted with my Claymore and took my place in this medieval mexican standoff.
“Alright folks, we’ve finally reached the last stage of the duelist’s event, and what an event it has been, am I right? To shake things up, the finals consist of not two duelists, but three of each clan type! And to make things even more interesting, the respective restrictions placed on them are hereby removed, by decree of Princess Cadence! Each of them is allowed to fully play to their strengths in this match. Sounds like a win-win situation for all involved, doesn’t it?” The announcer giggled, amused by her own witticism.
I glanced at Silver as he shrugged before unclasping the weights on his arms and thighs and tossing them offstage, ‘Oh Cadence, you sneaky little weasel’ Still, I had to admire her cunning.
Lollypop’s hubby’s specialty was Abjuration magic, or protection spells to be specific. Simply put, that meant that he could spam his shield spell whenever he wanted and deflect both Silver’s sword and my Claymore. It wouldn’t be totally one sided though, as Shining had only equipped a Xiphos that was lacking in the reach department. With such an emphasis on defense however, Shining Armor would prove to be a tough nut to crack. And let’s not forget that Silver Sword is an Agrarian, and without any kind of body weights holding him back, his attacks would be difficult to ward off. I’d have to fight this last duel very, very tactically, perhaps pitting them against each other to tire them out before I mopped up. If all else failed, I was now entitled to limitless flight ceiling to dive-bomb them with.
I contemplated all of this in the span of three seconds before the bell rang and Shining and Silver Sword launched themselves at each other. As predicted, Silver’s strikes glanced harmlessly off Shining’s fat strips of shield projections, which shot out magical sparks from the force of the blows being absorbed. Silver grew impatient with trying to break through his defense and sought to try his luck with me instead. I put my wings to work and engaged in acrobatics to try and get inside his guard. Silver was no fool though, and never allowed me to flank him for more than a second before deflecting a blow and riposting.
I nearly gained the misfortune of being the first target to be scored first blood on when Shining attempted to blitz me from behind. My many hours of training paying off in spades, I stopped the overhead blow short and bent out of the way of a stab from Silver, which sailed right into Shining’s torso. As I was currently blocking his weapon, he couldn’t react fast enough to summon his shielding magic and received the first critical hit of the match. Snarling to himself in a rage, he was forced back on the defensive as Silver and I had an unspoken agreement and ganged up on him to see just how adept with his shielding skills he was. Several hacking blows rained down on him as he struggled to keep up with the demand, beads of sweat building on his face. I capitalized on this weariness and circle strafed him with my wings to exploit his unguarded flank.
Sensing the danger, he poured his magic into a bubble spell that repulsed attacks from every direction and held it up. I personally thought it was a cheap tactic, but could see how useful it could be when surrounded by enemies. His spell had a bit of an Achilles heel however, since he was rapidly using up his mana supply to maintain it, and was straining visibly the longer we kept slashing at it. Knowing that deferring to his defensive tactics were no longer an option, he fed the last of his energies into the spell and pulsed it outwards. I saw the flash of magic building on his focal gem and preempted his plan, leaping backwards into the air and pumping my wings to escape the blast radius. This unexpected move seemed to take Silver off guard, who had no means of countering this even if he had seen it coming. He was flung off of his feet and landed on his stomach with an ‘Oomph!’… outside of the ring, which was a disqualification by default. I felt pity for the disgruntled Krystal militiaman, but had bigger fish to fry. Shining began discharging some kind of stunning spell at me multiple times, which were easy enough to evade, as he wasn’t the greatest shot. Using my altitude to my advantage, I began swooping down at him and using my momentum to add additional strength to my blows. Even with what little magic he could muster up for his shield spells, they were not strong enough to resist my renewed string of assaults. With a battle cry of justice for the disgraced Silver Sword, I overwhelmed Shining’s defense and traced an angry red line across his chest. I then landed on the stage to properly finish the job. Down to his last hit point, and thoroughly tired, Shining feebly raised his sword and rushed at me in a last ditch attempt to win the match. I didn’t bother with any fancy acrobatics for this one. Our swords met in a blade lock that I’m sure looked like an epic finale to a duel… the thing was, Shining played right into my hands by doing so. I grinned as I wrapped my left hand around the leather ricasso and used the extra leverage to pivot around the man; thwacking him in the back of the head with the handle of my Claymore and leaving him wide open for an attack. With a final thrust of my Claymore, the duelist’s portion of the Arcanian Athletic Games drew to a close.
The audience was actually silent as the Prince of the Krystal Kingdom was defeated in open combat in front of their eyes. The shock gradually wore off and soon enough; the stadium was alive with the resounding cheers of whistles of the audience.
The announcer was unequivocally impressed, “Absolutely astounding! The man from Magiville comes out on top! That’s one more Golden medal to add to their total of twelve so far! That puts them ahea-” I tuned the rest of her voice out as I turned to Shining Armor, who had sunken to his knees.
“Oh… my wife is going to kill me” I heard him mutter at the extremities of my auditory range.
I offered him a hand up, which he declined, “Why? There’s nothing wrong with the Silver medal” ‘It’s just not as valuable as mine’
“My wife just lost an important bet because I’ve gotten too rusty in the ring” He verbalized bitterly, “It didn’t help that you and Silver teamed up against me, that’s plain dishonorable”
There was that bet again. Why was it such a big deal?
I scoffed in disbelief, “Dishonorable? You were the one who was hiding behind his shields instead of facing us like a real soldier!” I retorted.
He pounded a fist against the stage in anger, “I used to be a Royal Captain of the Guard! There was a time where I could handle two on one situations like that against even dishonorable foes! Now I’m a laughingstock, my guards will never take me seriously now” He bemoaned.
“You’re their Prince, Shining Armor. They respect you by default, but earning their unwavering dedication isn’t something that will be sullied by one lost duel… especially because I was your opponent. And I don’t hesitate to surprise my foes with unorthodox moves, and make good on that surprise for the win” I explained to him to get him to stop sulking, “Anyhow, I’m feeling kind of tired, I think I’m going to turn in for the day. You have fun presiding over the rest of the games! M’kay?” I left him to either stew in his newfound moodiness or mull over what I told him. Stabbing my Claymore into the earth, I spat into my hands to rub away the flaky paint with so that I wouldn’t look like I was on the warpath anymore.
“Zenith! Congratulations on your win! I think you’ve earned it, not too shabby for a scout!” Silver jokingly said to me as I descended the steps from the dueling platform, “How about you and I get some drinks at the Gemmed Tankard with Ardent and Pierce as celebration? My treat” He offered generously.
I gave him a grateful expression, “That… sounds most agreeable, Silver”
I spent the remainder of the day catching up with the closest thing I had to guy friends at the local tavern that Daring and I once visited. We spent the hours imbibing and trading stories of our lives since the last time I was in town. I now had several stories of my own to regale them with, which made me feel somewhat accomplished. Pierce had difficulty taking me for my word when I revealed to him that I was in multiple relationships with nearly half a dozen amazing women (though all he wanted to know was how beautiful they were). Ardent was loud and proud as usual, though he too revealed to me that he met a nice local girl who he was going steady with. When the evening came, we parted ways and I made a beeline for Crystal’s home (Where another heartfelt reunion would occur) and spent the night there.
The next day happened more or less the same as the previous one, with events being announced by a recently humbled Prince Shining Armor that I didn’t pay much attention to. I carried out a short trip to my room in the citadel so I could change out of my plain clothes and into my repaired robes, sliding on my Tantō through the belt loops in my backside out of habit. I mostly came to the stadium to get my ass chewed out by the girls for not telling them that I was part of the athletic games, for them to gawk over the medal that was given to me by Crystal Clear (who anticipated that I would come to her and had asked the officials if she could hold onto it for me), and to show my support for Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash as they faced off against four other relay teams in the opening event of the day. The relay course for that was unlike any track I had ever seen, composed of tubes, rings, and mazes of cloud that pushed each contestant’s physical prowess and mental acuity to the limit. As was to be expected, Fluttershy and Bulk Biceps (who had wings that wouldn’t look out of place on a hummingbird) lagged at the rear of the pack, but they looked like they were enjoying themselves. Fortunately for team Magiville, the obstacles took their toll on the majority of the faster teams and bogged them down enough for the two of them to keep pace long enough to fork over the baton to Rainbow Dash. The spectrum headed flyer took that moment to rocket out from her starting position to dart around the track and pass every competitor save one, becoming neck and neck with an also speedy woman with bright, fiery orange hair who must have been Captain Spitfire. They both tried to leave one another in the dust for the rest of the way until they crossed the finish line, with Spitfire being declared the winner by a nose.
I groaned to myself in vague disappointment, but remembered that our team did pretty well considering the odds stacked against them. That was spoiled when I then bore witness to the major embarrassment of Spike trying to sing the Stratopolis anthem and failing horrifically as the three winning teams stood awkwardly on their winner’s podium and listened to a city’s anthem get lyrically slaughtered. Evidently, improvising anthems that he didn’t know was not one of Spike’s uses. Dash took me much later to meet her idols in person in a lounging area down by the locker rooms so I could meet some of my fellow Gold medalists. They were very charismatic people, and I could see why Dash admired them so much. Their fastest, Fleetfloot, spoke with a noticeable lisp and was a cute looking thing, if a bit short. Soarin had a happy go lucky type of personality and freely admitted that he was fond of pies, demonstrating a disturbingly extensive knowledge about the baking process as well as the history behind each individual pie flavor that surpassed mere fondness and wandered into obsession territory. He was a cool dude, even if he was extremely weird and possessed kind of a dopey sounding voice. Their Captain, Spitfire, was an awesome chick and clearly the brains behind their operations as an aerialist group, not to mention that she was smokin’ hot. She told me about why Wonderbolts were only led by Captains because it kept in accordance with a historical tradition from the past where elite wing commanders would turn down any promotions beyond the rank of Captain in order to stay in the field with the troops under their command. I shook each of their hands and accepted their own accolades about my skill with a sword.
In the corner of my eye, I spotted a dejected looking Spike stalk past the door of the lounging area and to one of the entrances leading onto the field, politely excusing myself from the Wonderbolt’s company I left a star struck Rainbow Dash behind to drool after her departing idols while I followed the suspiciously acting boy. For some inexplicable reason he was wearing a fedora, rounded shades, and a light grey coat jacket that was a few sizes too large for him. Even though I couldn’t muffle my steps with magic to ensure that I stayed under the radar (I had to pass through the nullifying gates a second time to keep suspicion from the officials regarding my clan type off me), he was too sullen to pay any regard to his environment as he trudged onwards. He stopped just shy from going onto the field and stood to the side, watching the ice archery event occur. I kept my distance for the time being and observed both the boy and the event.
Ice Archery was not like regular archery where shots to the center of the target netted one the most points. Instead, the archer had to cover up an entire target using specially enchanted ice arrows, which would freeze a small portion of any flat surface they struck. It was an interesting sport that required finesse and a speedy hand for nocking a new arrow from the quivers kept on stands next to the individual archers. From what I saw, the two competitors wearing the storm cloud and rainbow emblem on their team jerseys were doing the best work so far, effectively freezing the targets whole on the ground level and moving on to the targets hanging above them on gantries. Other than the two Stratopolis competitors, Pierce was one of the players representing the Krystal Kingdom (And while he was faring well, he was not shooting well enough to eclipse the skill of the two Valkyrian competitors standing next to him, much to his mounting aggravation). The other two competitors were from towns that I could not recall the names of off the top of my head. I did, however, recognize a brown haired man wearing the colors of Magiville as Archer’s father, Straight Shot. Unfortunately, straight shooting was not what determined the winners of an ice archery match, and he was visibly falling behind all of the others. I leaned against wall as I began to zoom in on him as he eventually fidgeted in his movements, which threw his aim off as he took additional arrows to completely cover over the target that was level with him on the ground.
Archer’s father started to sweat as he fell behind the competition with his shots, whipping out an arrow a little too hastily while also misjudging the height of one of his targets. He let one fly with a twang of his bowstring followed by a shriek as the frozen arrow sailed into a wayward cloud floating just about the stadium. The spot where the arrow landed began to freeze up briskly, before the whole of the cloud turned into a rapidly sinking, jagged iceberg of death. There must have been some cloud left in it, as it didn’t fall out of the sky instantaneously. Instead, it agonizingly prolonged its descent and gradually gained speed, letting petrifying fear sink into the helpless spectators hearts as they saw it coming for them, immobilizing many of them to their seats.
Time slowed down and my blood ran cold as I took in the scene, my heartbeat became a rhythmic pounding in my ears. The females in the crowd all gasped and many pointed upwards. The Royal sisters instantly stood to their feet, but I could see that would not intervene on behalf of their subjects unless the need was absolutely dire. The two Valkyrian competitors reacted quickly, tossing their bows to the side and flying up to meet it, trying and slow the icy behemoth’s tumble from the starlit ceiling. Several Valkyrians from the crowd courageously rushed in to aid them, including the ever brave Rainbow Dash and… admirably enough, Fluttershy as well. But even with the additional wing power, it became all too clear that they could only delay the inevitable. Once that gargantuan glacial mass hit the earth, it would shatter into a million pieces, many of which would soar into the stands and injure, possibly even perforate, multiple innocent bystanders. The Krystal Kingdom would bear witness to another great tragedy.
I turned to the boy beside me, “Spike! Contact your inner drake and use your fire breath to melt that ice cloud!” I shouted at him frantically. But Spike just stood and stared at the danger, wide eyed from my unexpected presence and unable to be of much use.
“Dammit!” I cursed. I instantly overpowered the weak seal of magic on me, meant only for repressing an average Stellar Mage, and permeated the atmosphere with a noise like breaking glass. Simultaneously I summoned my wings and raced out into the center of the stadium in full view of everybody spectating.
“FLY, YOU FOOLS!” I commanded the Valkyrians above me in the stentorian Royal Concordian voice, to which they instinctually obeyed and made haste to get out of the soon to be literal line of fire. I felt the energy building up from within, resulting in a hazy crimson shimmer that radiated from my being. I unsheathed my Tantō, barely taking notice of the emblem on the pommel that was glowing a nearly blinding white. Scarcely restrained anger at being forced to act at my own expense boiled up within me, lending great strength to the fire spell I was about to let loose. Channeling all the arcane power I could muster into my blade, I unleashed what had to have been my most powerful, focused fire spell to date. A concentrated torrent of flame shot skyward, piercing the frozen cloud with all the fury that a rushed beam of pure thermal energy could afford. The stream of magically based fire soared into the heavens like an angrier version of the Sorcery projected from Minas Morgul’s tower during the Return of the King. I began to widen the projection aperture of the fire spell, expanding it until it consumed the cloud entirely.
Naught of the hapless cloud remained save for residual humid steam, which quickly cooled and descended onto the ground, shrouding my surroundings in a thin mist. Even though it was all but futile at this point, I sheathed my blade and pulled my robe’s hood over my head, shielding my face from view. A tense silence soon followed, with my previous actions plunging the stadium into a motionless calmness. From under my hood, only my eyes could be seen, which glowed a menacing red after expending so much magic in such a short period of time. With that charming feature active and my dark clothing, I probably appeared like more of a villain than a savior to them. And yet at the edges of my brooding awareness, I could make out the sound of roaring applause, followed by vociferous cheers as the veil of fog parted and revealed me standing there safe and sound.
Not wanting to stick around any longer than was necessary, I began walking back the way I came with mechanically rigid motions. Much was coursing through my mind at the moment, and my evening had taken a turn in a direction that I considered for the worst.
Spike rushed forwards to meet me halfway, “Zenith, that was incredible! You saved those peo-”
“Not another word, Spike the brave and glorious” I tersely interrupted as I pushed past him and into the hallways that would lead up to the citadel, making a swift heading for my quarters.
⁂
Despite sealing myself into my room, I was not feeling any less surrounding by people than I would have liked. I was doubly vexed by how the ‘Go away, I’m brooding’ sign posted on my door didn’t seem to be deterring my visitors.
“C’mon Zenith, it’s not that big of a deal” Rainbow attempted to coax me out by downplaying the whole thing.
“Go away, Dash”
Spike could be inspirited into overcoming his stage fright and lighting the torch, and yet he wasn’t able to summon his courage when others needed him most... typical. His indecision also forced me to reveal my identity to several hundred people, some of whom had occupations in the media. Celestia would see this as an excuse to formally introduce the newest Trifect to their ranks, now that my cover was blown sky high. Every time I'd go out my door and into the world, someone, somewhere would be bother me with their concerns, or instinctual reaction to bow, or other manner of trouble that I cared little for. I could pretty much kiss my desire to remain relatively obscure goodbye. I think from my standpoint, it was perfectly understandable as to why I was in such a foul mood.
“How is performing at a rock concert and in the games in front of countless people any different than revealing that you’re a Trifect?” Twilight posed rhetorically.
“Regular attention dies down with time, the introduction of a fourth Trifect won’t dissipate as easily” I answered as I paced back and forth.
“I think you’re just afraid of attention” Rainbow’s words prodded at me through the door.
“Goading me out won’t work either, Dash”
“Bah! It’s useless, Twilight. We might as well let him stew in there, I’m going to get some dinner with the others” A whooshing of air told me that Dash had winged it out of there.
“Zenith…” Came her last plea, “I understand that you’ve wanted to keep your status as a Trifect secret for a while now, but wouldn’t there eventually come a time where you’d have to be recognized for what you are? I hardly think that saving many dozens of people would a bad first impression to make” She reasoned.
I only barely registered it, busy as I was with planning something that I’ve wanted to do for an age now. I rifled through the belonging in my adventure pack, equipping the rest of my armaments out of habit, before finding the object I was looking for.
“I’ll face the world later… but not now, Twilight. Please understand? I just need some space to myself for a moment”
I heard her sigh forbearingly through the door, “All right, Zenith. But if you change your mind, you can find us in the dining room of the citadel”
“Okay. Thank you, Twilight. I’ll do my best to cheer myself up before then, I promise” ‘Now I know which area to avoid’
I waited for the sounds of her footsteps to recede completely before engaging in what I considered to be cheering myself up. Casting extra sensory perception spells on myself, I scanned the hall for anybody, be they guards or otherwise, before unlocking the door and snaking out into the hallway. Making a short stop by a directory for directions to the royal bedchambers of the Prince and Princess, I cast a full cloak of active camouflage on myself and became one with the shadows. Weaving through the corridors and taking cover behind a curtain or other tall object whenever patrols passed by. Before long I had made it to my objective, though now I had to figure out a way to sneak past the guards standing sentry by the door. While I deliberated a way to distract them, the portal opened and both the Prince and Princess emerged, dressed in formal wear for the evening.
They were in the middle of a discourse, “For the last time, I’m not mad at you, Shiny, nor do I think any less of your skills as an ex-Captain of the guard. Zenith is… a capable person, as he so demonstrated when he vaporized the danger to our guests and subjects” She hesitated, likely remembering how strange I could be in addition.
“In all my time as a Captain in the Royal Guard, I’ve only ever seen Princess Celestia summon that much raw, destructive power” He spoke in awe before he shook his head, “But that’s not what has me the most concerned. Wasn’t it your dream to keep the Krystal Kingdom independent of Arcania? Losing the bet with Princess Celestia means that our new home will practically be all but annexed into becoming the northernmost territory of the country”
‘So that’s what the bet was about’ I mused. Once again, I had unwittingly been a pawn in Celestia’s game of thrones. I had gotten used to it to be honest, though it would be the last time that I championed for her without being duly informed of what I was really doing for her.
“If it were really my dream, my dearest Shining Armor, I wouldn’t have staked it on chance by entering into that wager. I would have stood more resolutely and insisted on keeping the Krystal Kingdom truly independent” She exhaled thoughtfully, “Perhaps this is for the best, having Arcania’s full fledged support will help this Kingdom reclaim its glory days ahead of schedule. The massive amounts of business that the games have stirred up so far is a testament to that, the local economy has never been stronger, to say nothing of all the other support that Arcania has been lending us”
She turned to the guards posted by her door, “Your rotation replacements should be here in the next five minutes, why don’t you two take the evening off early?” She asked them, though it was clear that it was more of a kindly request on her part, really.
The bowed their heads in thanks, “You have our gratitude, your most generous grace” They chorused together with a crisp salute, before turning heel and marching in the opposite direction.
‘Oh… this is too perfect’ I thought to myself as the Prince and Princess disappeared down the corridor. Was it a trap? Were there detection spells inside?
“Nothing ventured… nothing gained” I murmured to myself, pushing ahead and past the door into the opulently decorated bedroom.
If what Cadence said was accurate, I only had about a minute or two of liberty before I’d have to beat a swift retreat. Scanning the room for an optimal spot to put my new ‘alarm clock’ for the royal couple, Cadence in particular, I pushed out a dresser close to the heart shaped bed (‘Why am I not surprised?’) and took out an empty sound crystal that I had purchased from Vinyl and imbued it with Haddaway’s ‘What is love?’, simultaneously enchanting it to go off within a few hours time with a blaring volume. Yes… I was getting over my moping by pranking the royal couple… but I needed something to distract myself from the prospect of committing to my Princely duties, dammit!
Satisfied with my work, I shut the door behind me and made my escape, reengaging my camo spell as precaution. Ghosting between the scheduled replacements, I had a smirk on my face as I envisioned the royal couple freaking out once the sound crystal went off, followed by their guards rushing inside in expectation of an intruder before searching for the disturbance. They’d probably scan the aura tied to the crystal and tie it back to me, but I was willing to take a little heat in exchange for a less troubled mood.
I was literally shaken out of my thoughts when I felt something wooden and flat smack me in the back of the head and disabled the concentration I had on my camo spell, causing it to flicker before rendering me visible again. It didn’t hurt by any means, but my reaction was naturally enacted as if it did.
I spun in place, “Ow! What the-?” I promptly stopped speaking… bearing witness to a bizarre sight.
My Tantō… was levitating itself, the emblem on the bottom glowing once more. I checked around for a Stellar Mage who might have been joshing me, but blinked once I realized that there was no aura around my weapon, not even a very faint or obscure one. Not in the mood for this crap, I reached out to grab it. As if to mock me, it swooped away from me and proceeded to give me another whack on the forehead, soon after it floated down a random hallway.
“Ack! Hey! Get back here!” Yes, I was speaking to an animated-inanimate object, but something… or someone must have been controlling it. It wasn’t unreasonable to let them know that screwing with me was a poor decision.
Taking pursuit, I chased my rogue Tantō down half a dozen hallways (all of which were conspicuously absent of guards) before it ducked inside a doorway, seemingly out of purposefulness. Cautious as always of a potential trap, I flicked out my hidden blades and kept them at the ready as I pushed the rest of the door all the way open. Almost anticlimactically, there was nothing all that interesting about the room, only containing some glass cases filled with ancient pottery, a few well painted portraits, and a huge looking glass mirror with a frame that was shaped like an omega symbol. The Tantō I was chasing was floating in front of the mirror, waving almost mockingly at me before passing through the mirror’s surface. The surface rippled and the reflection of the room became blurred, before stabilizing itself again.
Meanwhile, I was trying to make sense out of what I just saw and couldn’t make heads or tails of it. All I knew was that the mirror was functioning as some kind of portal and that the weapon that had served me so faithfully since the beginning of this all had disappeared on me.
‘I could just leave it… I should just leave it. But I’ve really developed a connection with that thing’ I thought worriedly. I almost felt like it was a part of me at this point.
It wasn’t too hard of a choice. I was going to get my Tantō back, come hell or high water. Guardedly, I approached the mirror and dipped my foot into it, testing the figurative (and almost literal) waters. The surface gave way without resistance, sending out waves like a pebble that was dropped into a pond. Not satisfied, I pressed my hand through the glass and withdrew it, feeling another pang of disappointment when it didn’t feel like anything. A part of me likened it to stepping into a Stargate; only I had no idea where this unorthodox ‘gate’ would take me. I’d have to risk it though, if I wanted to get my prized possession back.
With a deep breath, I steeled myself with resolution, stepped past the event horizon of the mirror, and traveled into the unknown.
Chapter 26: Through the Looking-Glass, and what Zenith saw there
I always liked the idea of portals. Two points of unimaginable distances that could be crossed instantaneously with but a few steps through some flashy aperture? What wasn’t there to like about such a pragmatic concept? It would undoubtedly save on time that could be better spent doing something productive rather than wasting it on waiting in a vehicle between trips. What video games, science fiction stories, and fantasy movies don’t tell you about is how insalubrious it is on one’s… just about everything, really. I honestly believe that wearing one's entrails as their extrails would be a more pleasant experience. GLaDOS would never approve of my newfound opinion (and would probably try to kill me regardless), but it wasn’t even a second into the trip and I already felt nauseous enough to swear off portals forever.
The closest analog physical perception I could liken to the experience of traveling through the portal was like that of being teleported, only you could also tack onto the feeling of simultaneously going everywhere and nowhere with a gut wrenching impression of being stretched and compressed like a malleable glob of dough. My first belief that one lost their corporeal qualities upon entering whatever magical wormhole that was necessary for an instant conveyance between points was given a second opinion as I felt that same uncomfortable stretching and compressing sensation started to palpably affect my very being. The flesh in my legs began to deliquesce like wet clay and I could feel my bones begin to creak and crack as they underwent a warping. Fortunately, this was a painless process, but I could sense it crawling up my leg at an alarming pace like some kind of transmogrifying virus.
Reacting instinctively, and with more than a little panic, I hastily withdrew the smallest shard of Dichotomy from the upper folds of my robe where it was kept while I still was able to and pressed it against my palm. I gritted my teeth as I felt the razor sharp edge of the shard effortlessly slice into my flesh and draw blood, its special properties suppressing the magic within and in contact with my body. On the plus side though, I could physically discern that whatever arcane hold that was responsible for the transformation magic was retracting its grip on me and receding into the swirling ether, leaving behind an almost disappointed sentiment that I was surely convinced wasn’t my own. The horrible numbing sensation of the body parts that were doing a striking impersonation of mashed play dough chunks also faded, with my bodily extremities and the accompanying clothing returning to normal. Were I able to, I would have breathed a sigh of relief. The direct nullifying properties of the Arcanium metal functioned as I intended and shielded me against the magic that had tried to morph me into something different, which I found instinctively and inherently averse on a connate level. With the immediate danger having passed, I used that chance to observe my intangible surroundings.
The fathomless expanse in between portal points was like something out of a bad acid trip (Not that I would know). Swirling colors that I could recognize on an artist’s palette and those that lay beyond mortal comprehension pulsed and coalesced around me as they shifted hues and styles of emergence. Beyond the insanity of the infinite color wheel… I saw things, manifesting themselves in the infinite vacuity like flashes of memory in my mind’s eye. Some of the images I could make out with perfect clarity and there were some that were too muddled to make sense of, but most of them gave off a sinister vibe that forced me to turn away in order to preserve my mental stability. Watching all of this sensory nonsense happen was threatening to give me a migraine, so I shut my eyes and toughed it out as I careened towards wherever this Wonkian tunnel of psychedelic horrors was taking me.
My tumbling through the portal of lovecraftian petrifaction ended abruptly and rather unceremoniously as I felt myself roughly spat out onto a solid and coarse surface that could only have been concrete. Not wasting any time, I reinserted the shard piece that I used to protect my form back into my robes, sealed the bleeding cut on my hand with an accelerated healing spell (which actually stung a great deal more than the injury itself), and finally cast an active camouflage spell on myself partially fueled by the local environmental magic (I offhandedly noticed that the ambient magic here felt different for some inexplicable reason) before I stood to my feet to optically scour my new surroundings and check around for possible threats.
As far as I could tell, there were no signs of movement in my immediate vicinity. A yellow sun rose on the horizon and illuminated the sizable courtyard area that I found myself in. From its color and the fresh crispness in the air, I could deduce that it was an early time in the morning, perhaps seven or eight o’clock. Once I was certain that I was not in any kind of pressing danger, I devoted some more attention to study the courtyard I was located in. Walkways of flat concrete and grainy cobblestone were hemmed in with patches of trimmed grass, sparse copses of young larch trees, and their accompanying bushes to give the courtyard more of a temperate outdoor theme. The air was chilly, but not the breed of chill that one would associate with winter, belonging more to a fall climate. Looking up, I could see the path I was standing on led up to a three story building that was built mostly out of countless tiles of polished glass that were held up by steel girders and glinted in the warm rays of the sun.
I could only barely see it from down here on the ground, but peeking over the roof of this building was a dome (also made of glass) with a clock tower that indicated that my earlier guess about the time was half correct, with the short hand pointing to a seven and the long hand pointing at the six. Other than coming off as one of those fancy looking modern buildings that were made almost exclusively out of glass panes, there wasn’t much else that made it interesting in design. The lone exception to this were the decorative crenellations of pearly white stone with heart shapes etched into them that adorned the edges of the roof and lent a more feminine impression to the building than an imposing one. Having gotten used to such un-masculine sights in the past, I deduced that wherever I was couldn’t have been much different than where I came from.
Rudely interrupting my rumination, I felt a familiar whack against the backside of my skull, which disrupted my camo spell again. Spinning in place, I glared at the rebellious weapon that dragged me along on this inconvenient goose chase. The emblem on the wooden pommel of my Tantō no longer glowed this time around, but it still floated well out of my reach and was not responding to any of my attempts to magick it back into my grasp, whirling side to side in midair as if to continually spite me. Muscles in my legs coiled and tensed together as I got ready to spring forward and snatch it up, only for the unexpected to occur.
The main body of the sheathed blade abruptly ceased its taunting and began to distort in image and waver before it took on a new appearance, one of a silver and ivory trophy with a metallic equine figure holding an electric guitar in its hooves and posing itself like a rocker on the topmost stand. I barely managed to read the engraving on the bottom plaque titled ‘CCHS RockFest Winners’ before the increasing luminosity of the Tantō turned trophy became too bright for it to be legible anymore. I gaped at what I saw in sheer incomprehension before covering my eyes against a blinding flare of light as my treasured possession disappeared into thin air before me.
‘Well that’s just dandy. Why do I have the feeling that I’m going to have to suffer unspeakable indignities before I get my stuff back?’ I groused, not enjoying this sojourn into the unknown at all so far.
Removing my forearms from my eyes, I blinked away the residual glare from the fading burst of luminescence. Once I felt that my vision had sufficiently recovered, I saw that the base of a statue had been revealed to me, something that I did not happen to notice while I was focusing on my renegade weapon. There were subtle rippling motions of the flat surface of the statue’s pedestal that clued me in that it was my entry point. Backing up to get a better look at it, I observed that it was your standard marble statue, only the two vaguely equine figures holding up what seemed to be a faceted valentine heart in their forehooves were anything but Hellenistic in style.
The sinking feeling in my gut that began with seeing the odd looking trophy steadily grew worse as I gazed upon the sculpture. Walking forward a few steps, I pressed a hand against the flat surface of the statue’s pedestal and frowned when it failed to pass through like it did with the mirror surface. It appeared to me that I was ‘locked in’ on this particular quest, so there was no backing out now. Taking a deep breath to clear my fraying mind, I contemplated what course of action to pursue. If the trophy shape my Tantō took on was any clue, I was going to have to participate in some kind of contest or event in order to win it back. With any luck, once I had it in my hands again it would revert to its previous form and allow me to take the portal back to the Krystal Kingdom’s citadel, where I could hopefully put all of this behind me.
First however, I was going to have to do some comprehensive observation if I was going to learn about this new land and the dreadful premonition that I had about the inhabitants who lived here. Hearing the sounds of what had to have been footfalls not far off, I ducked into cover inside a bush beside one of the larch trees and cautiously watched in its direction. My fears were confirmed as I spotted a four legged creature amble its way down the sidewalk which lay beside a curiously paved asphalt road. A pair of unlatched saddlebags loaded with books were slung over its hindquarters (or flank I suppose I should call it) and it had on a violet blouse that reminded me of some of the frilly outfits that my great aunt liked to dress her yappy dogs in. From its swaying gait, the blouse, and the feminine way it gracefully bounded between its steps, I safely assumed that it was a female.
Despite her quadrupedal body and the flowing tail trailing behind her, the creature looked nothing like an equine from home. Her nearly truncated muzzle was too round and her expressive, sapient eyes were far too large and forward facing. The back of her dark magenta, multiple striped mane was elegantly braided and banded, allowing the rest to fall freely around her neck in cascades, much like a woman’s would. On the side of her rear end was a blue fleur de lis symbol that struck me as being familiar for some reason. My breath hitched as I took note of this quadruped’s unique coloration, which scintillated and caught the light much like a diamond would. This odd property was dominant throughout the mare’s entire indigo hued body, lending her a crystalline appearance that I recognized all too well. As she drew nearer, I could hear that she was happily humming to a tune that I couldn’t place as she took the cobbled path that passed by where I was currently hiding.
I held my breath as she got closer and subconsciously pulled back into the bush, fearing that she might sense me and root out my presence. Even with the unmuted volume of her humming and the fact that she seemed relatively inattentive to her surroundings, I knew that those binaural, swiveling ears on her head could detect anything out of the ordinary and point it out to her in a moment’s notice. This might have been speculation on my part, but I was well learned enough to know that horses as a prey species could pick up on sounds that ordinary humans couldn’t and respond appropriately.
As if to prove my point, a branch from the bush I was in rustled as I slowly shifted my weight to get a better vantage point, causing me to freeze and camo up as to mitigate the lapse in judgment. The diminutive mare stopped dead in her tracks as her ears stood straight up and her head swung questioningly in my direction. She uttered a distinctly feminine sounding ‘hmm?’ and tilted her neck sideways in curiosity, her eyes peering right into mine without her even realizing it. Any lingering doubts I might have had about her potential sapience were silenced once I saw the complex processes going on behind those blue colored irises of hers (I was momentarily taken aback by how the glints in them were polygonal shaped). Her ears flicked about even further as she attempted to determine what the cause of the noise was before she shrugged to herself at the withers, dismissed it aloud as a squirrel, and casually trotted off towards the steps leading into the building.
Have you ever seen a pony shrug to itself? Observing what essentially constituted as her shoulders lift up without her forelegs leaving the ground left me in a confused stupor. It was so anatomically uncanny that I reckon that those with fragile minds would get headaches thinking too hard about it. I elected to disregard this bizarre display of bodily elasticity and gather more information before making a move.
The rolling sound of wheels on tarmac was the next oddity to grace my aural receptors as I spied a long, yellow boxy vehicle pull up to the curb diagonally across from my bush and adjust its suspension downward before two doors in the front pulled back and a stream of ponies much like the first one I saw flowed out of its confines. The conductor of this vehicle was somehow able to operate the bus much like a human would, with foot pedals for the gas, brakes for slowing, and a steering wheel for turning (Given his equine form though, the seat and pedal placement were made for that in mind). The crowd of what had to be school students strode into the courtyard, with some chatting amicably amongst themselves and others holding up tablet devices in one hoof (the few unicorns among them had the luxury of levitating them aloft in their magical field) and mindlessly gazing at the lit up screen much like if they were human teenagers who were checking their phones for notifications. It was this thought that had me formulating an ominous idea of where I had wound up. I held my knuckles to my mouth and bit my bottom lip as I processed this disturbing revelation.
‘The horror… the pure, unadulterated horror…’ I opined with dismay, a queasiness taking hold of my visceral faculties. This bastardization of my home actually made me yearn for the acclimatized oddities of Arcania.
It dawned on me that this shouldn’t have been terribly surprising in retrospect. All this time of roving about a human styled fantasy world where one would normally expect to see ponies, and now I’ve landed smack dab in its kooky counterpart. This was a modernized, technology flaunting land… which was still dominated by technicolor, magical ponies. If the crystalline sheen on each of these equines was any indication, it was also the modern day pony equivalent of the Krystal Kingdom. I wondered what they called it here. Crystal City? This merited further investigation.
I waited until the coast was clear before activating my camo spell again and vacating my bush to briskly move to one that was nearer to the street and in close viewing range of where the students of this school would no doubt arrive in regular intervals. Utilizing a smidgen of acrobatics, I effortlessly vaulted over an obstructive stallion like he was a hurdle before sliding into my new cover. This understandably flustered him when he felt the air rush over him without seeing what caused it, but he was quick to pass it off as a draft of wind when he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary (Though he did pick up his pace out of exiguous nervousness). Mildly amusing reactions to my near invisible presence aside, it was here in this new spot that I would be able to make and compile mental notes on how I could best blend in with these eccentric creatures that made use of both magic and technology to enhance their lives. I crouched down in my makeshift hidey hole and bided my time as I observed the incoming quadrupeds in earnest.
These ponies were tiny little things from what I could tell, with the average mare’s head reaching no higher than three feet at the smallest to three and a half feet off the ground in average. The stallions were a tad larger, being up to four feet tall (add a few inches if you counted the stubby, rounded, nonthreatening horns on the unicorns). Even before I got a magical growth spurt by virtue of being a Trifect, I would tower over all these miniature equines if I were to stand next to them in comparison, which could make the task of blending into the background all the more difficult for me. I was no expert on horses by any means, but I was relatively certain that even ponies from back home were a good deal larger and beefier in build than these prancing equids. However, what they lacked in size, they more than made up for in sentient intelligence and character. It sparkled behind their eyes whenever they spoke to each other about something they did over the weekend (apparently it was a Monday here) or whenever they operated their tablet-phone devices to update their ‘Trotter’ profiles (A pony version of Twitter perhaps?).
Curiously, each of them wore what were clearly upper garments that clothed their shoulders and extended halfway down their barrel, but left their hind regions alone. Perhaps this was because it might be considered taboo to cover up their Mana Ma-… I mean, Cutie marks (‘Bleh, just thinking it leaves a bad taste in the mouth’). They could operate vehicles that were like automobiles… only they were clunkier and had widened gull wing doors that made for easier disembarking of their four legged passengers. I couldn’t resist a small, slightly reminiscent grin from forming on my face once I heeded what had to be one young stallion’s mother giving her son a goodbye nuzzle and whisper-wishing him a pleasant day at school before he exited out the passenger side, grabbing his saddle-schoolbags in his teeth and flinging them over his flanks using his remarkably flexible neck. Humanlike as these ponies were, they still retained physical traits that they shared with their decidedly less charismatic equine cousins from home.
I hadn’t seen enough yet to fully justify my presumptions, but I figured that it was safe to say that this was going to be a society that I would find uncomfortably familiar and yet distantly alien at the same time. From what scant scraps of useful chatter I could pick up on from passing students; the glass building behind me was called Crystal City High School (‘Called it’), which was home to the Shimmering Hearts. The students who did speak about their school did so with a prideful tinge to their voices, which is more than I could say for my own opinions about my High School experience.
Many of them also expressed enthusiasm about a Battle of the Bands event that would take place on Friday night in the gymnasium, some of them wistfully wishing they could form a band of their own (the minimum was three members from what I heard) and sign up themselves. They suspiciously described in copious amounts of specific detail how awesome the first place trophy looked like (Which of course matched the description of my Tantō’s recently changed form on the nose). That foundering feeling in my gut bottomed out once I reached my ultimate realization. I was going to have to either sneak into this building and steal that trophy, which wouldn’t be an optimal plan starting out since I had no idea where they kept it, or… I was going to have to impersonate (‘Or is that imponiate? I’m unsure’) being a student here and find a way to win it back the semi-legal way before the end of the week.
‘Put up with High School again for a week? Freakin’ hell! I already went through four years of that bull shite, I’d rather not put up with a single day more just so I can get what’s mine back in my hands’ I mentally grumbled to myself, bad memories resurfacing in my head. It was either behave as a law abiding dimensional traveler and do things the hard way, or as a practical honor-less thief who despised every second that he languished in ponyland. These were some pretty tough choices for me to choose from at this outlandish junction of life.
I shook myself free of my brooding funk and stealthily relocated to a position behind the thick hedgerow that lined the edges of the school building, away from the right hand road traffic (at least these ponies drove like Americans) but nearby to the students who resorted to using the sidewalks to get to school. From there I focused on how I was going to successfully infiltrate this school and pose as a reasonably convincing pony high school student. I hadn’t fully solidified my decision on whether I wanted to go with the stealing option or winning back option, but it made little difference on what I would need to do at the moment. Amassing my inner pool of magic and bringing it to the fore in readiness, I cycled through various ideas for spell combinations in my mind that would allow me to hide my real form from these undoubtedly alien skittish ponies.
This was going to be a very complex and rather draining spell for me to cast, as it would have to not only hold up under visual scrutiny, but physical as well; which would require a hard light spell mixed in with a triple layered illusion spell. The first layer would be the general form, or the semisolid outer shell, which would resemble that of a quadrupedal pony like the ones I was now surrounded by. The second layer would be more in depth, factoring in an overall coat color of my choosing, a Mana Mark (I’m not calling it a cutie mark… just no) emblem as my personal sigil (something that I already had a good idea in mind for), as well as other specific characteristics. The third and final layer would constitute an explanation for how I would be able to physically interact with objects that were out of the reach of my ‘hooves’, but not to my tactilely superior hands. This last one was easy, as I would simply have to make my illusion a unicorn so that I could pass it off as a levitation spell.
There were still a few complications that threatened to smother my newly hatched plan while it was still in the crib that I needed to address. The first was that the illusion itself could only appear so tall before it garnered a dangerous amount of attention, so I would still need to cast a ‘mind me not’ perception filter charm on my actual self so that my real body could go unnoticed by the local populace. Utilizing a perception filter instead of a full on active camouflage spell was a bit of a risky gamble on my part, as having too many eyes fixed on me would make it even more taxing on my mana reserves to maintain than a camouflage spell. But then again, everything about my coerced trip to this weird world was taken on a gamble, so I dared to say that it wasn’t too much of a deviation from the standing norm.
Letting my own inherent magic wash over me like a warm, comforting breeze, I tested the metaphorical waters of how intensive this spell was going to be. While I grew substantially more adept with my ability to cast magic every week, the equivalent of casting and keeping such a high tier combination of complex spells like this and keeping it active for more than an hour of intermittent heavy usage was like taking a fully laden SUV on a road trip, turning the air conditioning on full blast, while also forgetting that the emergency break is pulled up, which in turn would force the engine to work harder against the resistance to keep the wheels rolling.
In laymen’s terms, it was going to be an extremely draining experience for me to uphold this spell, so I knew beforehand that I would not be able to stay disguised all day. So I would need to scout out secluded areas where I could passively recharge my magic while additionally remaining out of sight and therefore out of mind. I had yet to spot any Pegasi amongst the ponies that were attending this school, so there was a chance that I could just sit tight on top of a random cloud without fear of having it bucked out from under me. I quietly theorized that I could link up my own magic to the ambient thaumic field that suffused the atmosphere around me like I did when I initially casted my camo spell, but it would only save me about a quarter of the energy required and would add that distracting greasy feeling that working with non-self metabolized magic entailed.
I would have to endure it though, because I did not have nearly enough magic in the tank to avail me throughout the unknown duration of my stay here. Shivering to myself as I felt the arcane connection to the environment take hold and creep into my body, I envisioned what my pony doppelgänger was to look like, partially as a way to distract from the disconcerting ‘grease’ now slithering through my veins.
I wasn’t deadlocked on picking a flashy coat color since I didn’t want to stick out in any way, so I went with a blackish grey that stopped just shy of the hooves, which I gave white socks (Not those kind of socks, just that natural white fur coloring that extended just above some horses’ hooves). I went with this atypical coloration because it had stealthy qualities that instinctively appealed to me, and also because it was very slimming on anyone’s figure (Provided they weren’t too girthy). Given how the majority of the pony students here were clothed, I added a featureless red tee shirt over most of my ‘barrel’ since it was easier to replicate the feeling of a cotton tee shirt with hard light over that of an equine’s hairy coat, plus it made it simpler for my illusion to fit in with this alien society that saw fit to wear upper garments and nothing else. The mane would match my normal hair color, which was dark enough that it wouldn’t stand out from my ‘coat’ anyway. The iris color of the eyes would remain the same crimson red, no exceptions. I didn’t put too much deliberation into my tail, only enough that it would correspond to my motions accordingly. The height was trickier for me to get down, as I didn’t want my ponygänger (that’s a word now) to be so tall as to involuntarily invite attention, but also not so short as to require a lower extremity voice emulation spell to attach to my extensive list of spells I would need to cast.
In the end, I settled for four and a half feet at the noggin (discounting the spiral grooved horn), which was a lofty height by these ponies’ standards, but not overbearing enough where I would instantly qualify for whatever constituted the local basketball team around here. I was no ventriloquist by any means, so I figured that I could ‘throw’ my voice downwards a foot or so with a minor tweak to the perception filter so that it would seem to come from my illusion’s ‘mouth’, but I would have to accept that it wouldn’t be perfect. There was also the matter of giving my ponygänger the appropriate materials for school, such as saddle-schoolbags brimming with books. Those would have to be a non-hard light structure, since I couldn’t remove the books inside and read them in class, now could I? Remembering my conversation with Minuette in her dental office, I emblazoned my personal idea for what my Mana mark could be on my ‘flanks’. I stylized it in the form of a Red Omega symbol with a golden pentacle star set inside to contrast against my blackish coat. Part of my mind kept drawing correlations between these Cutie marks and the idea of horse heraldry. With a great heave of magic, I enacted the sweeping set of spells in one go, giving off an unavoidable explosion of light that I hoped the hedgerow would keep concealed.
Turning around to face the slightly reflective glass panes of the High School, I appraised my work. I seemed to have gotten most of the crucial details down, with me making minute modifications where I saw them needed. My phantasmal (to my eyes anyhow), thin veneer of an illusion was an animated hard light magical projection that needed to feel moderately real, look unquestionably real, and act assuredly real. Every emotion that I even hinted at would have to be displayed through my illusion’s face, ears and tail, otherwise I would attract an unduly amount of suspicion… or perhaps I would just be dismissed as an emotionless husk. One could only postulate when infiltrating a society of ponies that wore their immediate emotions on their sleeves. Before revealing my false self to the populace, I would need to train my repertoire of expressions for effective interaction.
After exhaustively practicing a wide variety of facial expressions and adjusting the illusion’s overinflated mirrored response to be more or less in coordination with my own (for example, a slight grin would somehow multiply itself to pseudo-Cheshire levels of white, toothy beaming on my ponygänger. I only wanted it to be marginally above the threshold of my own expressions to avoid looking like an utter moron), I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable interaction that would be necessary for this gambit attempt at subterfuge. This was where my adaptable acting skills would auspiciously come in handy. Since I didn’t make my coat sparkle or shine with the same gemlike luster that matched that of the locals and therefore stood out from the usual population, I could portray myself as a recently moved student starting his first day of school today to anyone who is nosy enough to ask. I doubted very much that these ponies were gullible enough to buy it without question (especially any school faculty, who I would need to watch out for, lest I be apprehended by whatever acted as the constabulary before I even had time to say ‘Whoops!’), but I could keep my story ambiguous enough to scrape by with minimal chariness from my potential temporary compatriots. Once the novelty of having an extra pair of legs (and a tail! Complete with realistic swishing action!) behind me wore off, I decided to get this metaphorical show on the road.
Emerging from the hedgerows, I pretended to round about the corner of the building with a confused expression, as if I was new here. This was not difficult for me to imitate, since it was my default expression whenever I had to search for my university classrooms every new quarter in that rat-maze of a campus. Pretending with uplifted eyebrows to notice the flow of ponies heading towards the school, I inconspicuously joined them. I drew a few stares from the others due to my not so shiny coat, but was ultimately disregarded as a ‘clueless new guy’, provoking me to gnash my teeth together in disappointment. Heck, it wasn’t even the first few minutes and I was already being subjected to the ‘shun the outsider’ treatment by my fellow schoolmates.
In the distance, I absently noted the presence of what looked to be a large radio tower that vaguely resembled a shorter, glassy version of the Tokyo Skytree looming on the horizon. Surrounding it were more glass buildings that couldn’t be classified as ‘big city’ in size and were few enough that this Crystal City was closer to a suburban town than a genuine concrete jungle city. Despite its name, Crystal City lacked the same crystalline structures that dominated its counterpart across the portal, seemingly deriving its name from the overabundance of sparkling glass used in the majority of the architecture here. Again, I hadn’t seen nearly enough to be certain, but the residential area appeared to make up the majority of this midget city. Snow capped mountains could also be seen poking over the horizon, but the weather suggested that the city was located in a more temperate region of the world.
Walking with a four legged gait that made legitimate, soft clopping sounds against the pavement, I stopped just short of the same statue that doubled as an entry point between worlds and gazed up at it with an ostensibly unreadable expression. Truthfully, I curtailed the complex spell matrix that governed my ponygänger’s facial expressions so that I could express my own without consequence. I never imagined that I would proclaim this to myself, but I missed Arcania dearly. Not as much as I missed my home of course, but enough that I couldn’t help but think about the people that I so expeditiously and expediently left behind in pursuit of something that I could realistically make do without. I speculated on what their reactions would be once they discovered that I had disappeared practically without a trace.
Would they try searching for me? If so, how? I didn’t know if the properties of that mirror were known to Cadence or anyone else, or if my Tantō temporarily turned it into more than just a mirror for its own unexplained purposes. What would they do once they realized that they couldn’t find me? I never worked much with that brand of magic, but I wasn’t under the impression that a scrying spell’s area of effectiveness transcended the cosmic veil between realms. My absence would probably have more of a repercussion on the lives that I personally touched. People that I had an intimate relationship with like Fluttershy and Rarity might worry themselves to pieces over where I could be or my personal safety, while the Princesses would do everything in their considerable power to find me.
I remembered my last confab with Twilight, and how I came off as greatly upset due to my irrevocably compromised identity as a Trifect to the public at large. I risked it heavily enough to the spectating inhabitants of Magiville when I flashed my wings during the duels, but now that the cat was out of the bag for all of Arcania to see, there was no longer any chance for me to return to a period of relative normalcy. Cynically speaking, I had little doubt that Twilight had the propensity to mistakenly perceive my sudden disappearance as me running away from my responsibilities as an unofficially inducted member of Royalty.
Perhaps I wasn’t giving her enough credit, but Twilight had proven in the past to being predisposed to going about conundrums involving myself in ways that sorely needed some improvement. More objectively, the bookworm’s mind deferred to Occam’s razor just the same as mine did when faced with limited facts to work with. Assuming that they didn’t discover the mirror, or if it was still active or not if they did, Twilight might make mention to how averse I was to being recognized as the first Trifect prince. Celestia, being able to confirm that with first hand experience (I acknowledge that I often whined to her about it during many of our discussions), might be tentatively inclined to agree with that hypothesis, however unlikely it was. Though with Luna’s adeptness in the field of oneiromancy, they would only need to wait about a day or so to confirm that I no longer dreamed in that world. In which case, they would either know that I was no longer within the boundaries of Arcania… or they would morbidly assume the worst about my state of health. With all that in mind, I determined to myself that I was to get my Tantō back by any means possible. I would not chance putting the people that I cared about through that kind of heartache all for my sake.
I let out a mirthless snigger. Despite how distraught these negative nancy thoughts were making me… I found it was morbidly funny in a way. Not so long ago, I’d never believe that anyone outside of my family would even notice or care that I was gone. I’ve done such an impeccable job of staying silent and shrouding myself from the world’s eyes that the unexpected transition to another one was relatively easy. Now that I’ve been whisked away across distances beyond distance a second time, I find myself unable to do anything else but reflect on how this sequence of translocation has been affecting me inside. I was no longer sure if the homesick feeling tugging at my heart was actually yearning for home… or for Arcania, and everyone there who galvanized me in ways that I was far too stubborn to openly admit.
“Hey champ, I get that it’s a nicely carved statue and all… but you’ve been standing there for an awfully lengthy amount of time now” Came an oddly familiar, masculine sounding voice to my bottom left, yanking me from my brooding.
I turned my head to regard the small being that spoke to me and examined him in detail (My ponygänger doing the same). He was an Earth pony of average size with a silvery mane that exhibited a dignified sheen and pristine white coat that scintillated in the sunlight like all the other ponies I was surrounded by. He wore a plain white cotton tee shirt that blended into his coat so well that it was a mystery why he bothered wearing it in the first place. He didn’t use saddlebags to carry his things, instead relying on a satchel like bag with straps that conformed to his back. An image of a one handed sword inserted between a partially ringed golden laurel wreath adorned his flanks. His eyes (which were a feature that I never really took into account before, but was unable to ignore now that they were so enlarged on his face) were a deep, rich brown, like mine used to be before I woke up in another world. There was also this enigmatic upward curl to his lips, like he was expecting me somehow.
I kept my countenance inexpressive as I engaged him in conversation, “I was lost in thought, I suppose. I’ve just been dealing with an onset of baffling changes in scenery lately” I murmured, forgetting to put the extra physical effort into projecting my voice downwards.
His ears angled slightly skywards, but otherwise he showed no sign of noticing anything amiss, “I’ll bet!” He exclaimed with a lighthearted chuckle, as if he perfectly understood the nature of my dilemma.
He smiled cordially at me and extended his furry appendage towards what was veritably my kneecap, “My name’s Silver Sword. I’m a part of the student council here at this school, and I’m also on the fencing team! But that’s neither here nor there at the moment” He introduced himself as he offered me his… hoof, which I intuitively made my ponygänger bump with a minimum of awkwardness by moving my knee forward to meet the flat portion of his limb.
His smile grew once I reciprocated the gesture, “I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that you must be that foreign student that some of us were informed would transfer here all the way from Flankfurt, Germaneigh. Ja?” He tried emulating the word, slaughtering the correct pronunciation. He enunciated it more like Zhah, instead of Yah, and I was nitpicky about that sort of thing.
Then the location he mentioned finally registered in my brain, ‘Oh god, the PUNS’ I mentally anguished.
Bad puns were the bane of my existence, and something told me that I’ve only just begun to despise this place for it. On the bright side though, this was potentially some good news for me though, since I could take advantage of this apparent opening and masquerade as this foreign study student, at least until the real one shows up. I would have to take on the appearance of a foreigner in that manner however, which ironically, I was indeed just that.
I quickly scraped together what rudimentary know-how I commanded of one of my ancestral languages and spoke gutturally, “Err... Ja. Ich bin neu hier, und ich spreche ein wenig Deutsch. Aber ich bin eigentlich ein Amerikaner” I slowly answered in my best accent (I figured that it was atrocious enough to make some of my ancestors roll restlessly in their graves. I wasn’t the most outstanding polyglot by any measure), still processing the positively bizarre happenstance that I was speaking to a ponified version of Silver Sword in German. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; my life was just weird sometimes.
He held out one hoof in a rapid stopping motion, “Woah, woah, hold on new guy! That fierce, guttural language of yours might make you popular with the mares here, but try to stick to using the King’s Equish around these parts, alright? I don’t know many ponies that are multilingual, but I’d stake my reputation on most of them being in the overachievers club” He suggested in a way that implied that he was looking out for my greater interests.
“Other than that, I welcome you on behalf of Crystal City High School!” He declared with a bow of his neck and a bending of his forelegs.
I accepted the gesture neutrally with a nod, “I feel most welcomed then. I’m Zenith, for your information” I disclosed in the flat, accent-less English that I excelled at.
He blinked at how easily I switched between tongues before chortling to himself, “I can tell that you’re going to be a very interesting pony to get to know, Zenith”
‘He doesn’t know the half of it’ I mused to myself in self amusement.
I shrugged, my ponified image copying the gesture in a strange horse like motion of the withers, “Genau! I’d say that you’re half right” I replied absently, mixing in some German to add to the impression of a foreign born student still adjusting to communicating using another language.
Braaang! A loud buzzing noise that I could only assume was the first bell for the ten minute interval before the start of classes, which were common in many high schools, rang over the speaker system.
“That’s the ten minute bell” Silver confirmed for me as his ears automatically flicked in the direction of the buzzing noise, “C’mon! I’ll show you the way to the principal’s office so you can nab your schedule and hopefully aren’t too late for your first class” He helpfully offered me his assistance, “Who knows… maybe we’ll share one or two!” He buoyantly spouted, “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
His charm was preternaturally infectious; making me reminisce about Pinkie’s constant attempts to get me to smile and really mean it, “That would make my day twenty percent cooler” I reciprocated his cheer, sneaking in one of Dash’s favorite sayings while I was at it.
He gave the school an aside glance before looking back at me and motioning with his stout, square muzzle for me to follow him. I was reluctantly forced to do so in order to keep up the image, but recalled that my chances for infiltration just skyrocketed with this unforeseen opportunity, assuming I could handle whatever awaited me in the Principal’s office. Furthermore, I had to do my damnedest to ignore the churning feeling in my gut at the idea of putting up with another minute in a high school setting.
“So Zenith, what’s your Cutie Mark supposed to mean? The odd shaped horseshoe kind of makes sense, but why is there a star inside?” He idly asked me along the way, sounding legitimately curious about its meaning.
My molars involuntarily ground together at hearing the effeminate title applied to my prospective Mana mark, “That is not a horseshoe, it’s an Omega symbol. And I prefer the term ‘Stud Stamp’, thank you very much” I uttered with minor aggravation.
He hastily waved a hoof in the air in a placatory fashion while maintaining locomotion, “I meant no disrespect! And is that what they call them in Germaneigh? Pretty raunchy… I mean neat!” He hastily corrected with a flimsily constructed simper, flashing me his shiny horse teeth. Goodness, was the Silver Sword I knew as socially goofy as a teenager?
“Don’t sweat it” I brushed his faux pas aside, “So why do I get the feeling that this is a matriarchal society?” I remarked aloud to no one in particular as a large gaggle of chattering mares surpassed us.
Silver chuckled again as we climbed the short set of stairs before the school’s main entrance, “Probably because it is. Fillies consistently outnumber Colts by a hefty three to one margin in this town, so it’s naturally expected that they take on the majority of important roles while us guys get relegated to the side for anything besides family oriented matters. Not that I’m complaining, and I’m sure that you won’t either, if you catch my drift” He cracked a somewhat lecherous grin and waggled his eyebrows in emphasis. The meaning behind it was not lost on me, and had I not blocked my ponygänger’s facial response, I’m sure it would have taken on a disgusted green tint to reflect my disdain for the concept of getting freaky with the quadrupedal locals.
I gave him a flat unamused stare, “I’m not a tail chaser”
‘Funny how literal that expression is here’ I commented in my mind.
He shook his head with that same unrepentant grin, “I don’t judge! In fact I even respect your chastity! Though it’s only fair, seeing that Mares influence what a Stallion’s station in life is like nine times out of ten” He reasoned.
‘Wow, I wonder if that makes him a masculinist? Is that even a word?’ I was inventing all sorts of terms today, it seemed.
“Pfft! That’s because they being wimpy conformists and letting the mare keep them down” I retorted on cue as we walke- I mean, trotted into… shudder, High School. I tried to be cautiously optimistic and delude myself into thinking that it would be better than the first time around, but the fact that I was hiding away from the public’s eye even more so here kind of made that a moot point.
Pushing past the swiveling entry doors, we made our way inside the building, where a scene of activity was playing out before and after our ingress.
The main entrance hall of the school was visually impressive to behold for the first time, to say the least. The layout was organized and kept the flow of foot… or should I say hoof traffic, from piling up via an uncomplicated setup where there were multiple hallways splitting off from a round snowflake symbol that was embossed onto the smooth, polished ground. My eyes picked up on the fact that it contained the words ‘Brilliant Minds, Crystal Hearts’, which must have been the aptly termed school’s motto. Majestic banners hung from guardrails and proudly displayed their school colors for all to see. Students bustled to and from the hallways and picked up or deposited personal items in rectangular shaped lockers that held their stuff (Turns out that rotating combination locks did not favor hands over hooves, since the ones I saw in usage here remained virtually unchanged from the ones I’ve seen at my own high school).
Sliding glass cabinets showcased trophies and awards for various sports teams that had reached certain levels in interschool championships within whatever unified school district here that governed overall management. From what I could tell, there was even school recognition for national level stuff, so it was predominantly clear that this ‘CCHS’ was no laughable backwater institution. Hanging from a mural like painted ceiling was a massive chandelier that had little dangling heart sculpted crystals to reflect both the light streaming in from outside and the school’s identity. A meager flicker of jealously ignited in my chest. My high school never dressed itself up nearly as resplendently. Inhaling deeply to calm myself, I snuffed out the flicker before it could spark a fire of envy that I would have of these spoiled equines.
I diligently followed Silver Sword as we shunted our way through the crowds, who hesitantly parted around us like water diverted about an unyielding rock. It was your typical scene before classes started, with the academically invested students hurriedly making their way towards their classes. While the less enthusiastic students stayed to the side of the hallways with their friends and milked whatever was left of the ten minute free period they had to chat before a proctor would undoubtedly herd them (‘Heh, such fitting terminology’) to where they were bidden to be.
Wherever the principal’s office was, it must have been located centrally in the school, as we had to traverse our way into the depths of the school and make a series of twisting turns that I meticulously memorized and reversed in my head in the pessimistic case that I needed to beat a hasty retreat. Silver Sword was uncharacteristically quiet as he escorted me through the hallways and past open classroom doorways that offered a sneak peak into the scholastic services provided by this establishment. His silence elicited a spike of worry in my chest, engendering me to wonder if he knew that something was amiss. It was an unspoken question that would likely be answered soon, as Silver finally angled himself towards a door with cloudy, opaque glass that rendered seeing whatever lay in wait inside impossible through conventional means. The golden lettering on it spelled out ‘Office of the Preeminent Principal Director’, which felt a tad overinflated a title to me, but some people… or ponies in this case, needed to feel distinguished I guess.
“We’re here” Silver broke the quietude, “Principal Cadence should be right inside. I’ll go in first and notify her that you’ve arrived a few days early so that she can fish out whatever paperwork she needs to expedite the enrolling process, but it really shouldn’t be a problem” He said, confidently shaking his head.
‘A few days early? How much time does that give me before the real student I’m replacing shows up then?’ I asked myself as I processed this information. My best guestimate told me that I had a few days at the very least, which should provide me with enough time to find my disguised Tantō, nab it, and hightail it back to the portal with no one the wiser.
Silver turned away from me and rapped a hoof against the door a couple of times to announce his presence as a courtesy before biting at the handle with his teeth (‘Yeuck! That cannot possibly be hygienic’) and twisting his head to pull the unlocked latch downwards, pushing the door open with a nudge of his nose. Peeking his head all the way inside, I heard him murmur something to someone on the other side and receive and equally muted droning response. His tail swished and flicked as he murmured again, this time sounding slightly agitated. The answering voice kept its unapologetic tone and I saw Silver Sword’s body sag in what seemed to be defeated disappointment.
He backed up and returned his attention to me, “Sorry pal, it looks like she’s in a meeting with somepony else at the moment. Secretary Sassy says that you can wait inside until the Principal is ready to see you though. But I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you company until then, since I’ve got class and all. So this is where we part ways… for now” His usual smile wavered at the end, as if disheartened that he was forced to leave me on my own.
‘Is that her actual name?’ I tried to resist the urge to grin at the conjured mental image but failed. I covered it up by pretending to feel touched by Silver’s friendliness, “It’s perfectly fine Silver. I have no doubt that we’ll be seeing each other around before long”
He smiled at me and lifted his hoof again, realizing that he wanted another hoof bump, I obliged him, “I can’t wait. Perhaps after school is over for today I can show you around town a little? There’s probably a lot that you haven’t gotten the chance to see since you’ve moved here”
“A kind offer” I bowed my head in gratitude, “One that I may just take you up on” I winked at him.
His smile grew (emitting an ‘squeeing’ sound effect that I promptly decided to ignore, since vocal chords were not supposed to mimic squeaky toys!) at the opportunity to make a new friend, “Sweet. Bye Zenith!” He bid me farewell as he galloped past me, disappearing around a corner in great haste. This led me to surmise that his first class of the morning was located somewhere secluded from the general area of the Principal’s office.
‘What a considerate ma- er… stallion he is. It’s going to take me a while to adjust to the local vernacular without instinctively humanizing it’
I twisted in place and made my way inside the room, carefully avoiding grabbing the saliva coated door handle and pushing it open with a quick application of magic. So far my internal mana pool was holding up without complications, but I calculated that I only had roughly an hour and a half before I needed to take a figurative breather. Past the doorway of the Principal’s office was a kind of waiting room that was illuminated by a skylight and a few lighting strips in the ceiling. The Principal’s office was one of those offices within a bigger office that continued the frustrating opaque, inscrutable window trend.
To my left was a desk with a tall computer monitor that shielded the face of a mare from view, with only the topmost portion of her mane visible and some large framed glasses that had strings attached to the ends to keep them from falling off her muzzle. Further examination as I made my way farther into the room revealed that this mare was currently clacking away at an actual keyboard as she composed a curtailed, digital memorandum to the faculty, only slowing down to glance at the written message that she was copying from. The keyboard itself had noticeably thicker buttons than its human manufactured cousins back home, but the mare retained an impressive writing pace none the less, despite only being able to poke at the buttons once with each of her forehoof tips (I was assuming that she wasn’t a unicorn. Magic would help abundantly so with that task). I was a proud peck typer myself, so I was hardly in any position to criticize her only applicable method for carrying out her duties.
“You going to stand there and watch me work all day? Or are you going to plop your flank down on one of the pillow seats over there until the Principal can see you?” The mare asked in a nasally voice that was only compounded by the wad of gum that she was chewing on in protracted intervals, occasionally stopping her mastication to blow a tiny bubble that popped with a louder noise than its diminutive size should have entitled it.
“Sorry ma’am, I’m the kind that likes to take their surroundings into account. You see, an observing guy like myse-” She cut me off before I could finish.
“Well, you can observe just fine… from over there” She interrupted as she swatted a hoof in the direction of the tasseled seats, “There’s no reason for you to be blocking the doorway with your unsightly, spindly frame” She abrasively remarked to me, not even giving me the courtesy of looking me in the eyes as she did so.
I took a breath and was about to retort when her last words registered with me and gave me pause. Her description was cause for slight concern, as both of those terms could reasonably apply to my human form instead of my illusion’s. However, with the complete lack of regard that she was showing me, it was unlikely that she was using anything beyond her peripherals to see me, which the perception filter still took into account and altered.
‘Sassy? Bitchy is more like it’ I mentally grumbled, inscribing this rude secretary down on my petty shit list.
“Again, my sincerest apologies” I spoke through gritted teeth, biting down the nigh overwhelming urge to snark back at this sharp tongued mare.
I turned to where she pointed out the pillowed seats against the opposite wall and hunkered down on the unexpectedly plush cushions, which my posterior lethargically sank into. My illusion copied my motions by planting its lower half down on the seat while keeping the upper half standing… because horse physiology. I suppose when there’s no back support offered for a species whose spines are parallel to the ground, they might as well make sure that the seat cushions ensure that your tush is at least comfortable. A period of silence passed for about five or so minutes, punctuated only by the steady noise of the secretary’s hooves against the keyboard, a wo-… mare who never once looked at me or engaged in conversation. Not that I really minded, accustomed to being taciturn as I was.
Once the five minutes were up, the door to the actual principal’s office swung open and a student came sauntering out with a chewed out looking scowl on his face. Even though he was evidently unhappy about something, there was a certain… facetiousness in his movements, as if he was a justified rebel without a justifiable cause. He was a slimly built colt with an orange coat (ceaselessly scintillating as always) and a short trimmed, light blue mane. His eyes were currently hazy and unfocused, but gave off the impression that they could display a lethal precision at a moment’s notice. On his flank was a slanted picture of a crystalline arrow striking a bull’s-eye target dead center and piercing all the way through, illustrating his immense skill as an archer.
“Have we reached an understanding, Piercing Arrow?” Came a feminine voice that I recognized as belonging to Cadence, though it had a far more professional, detached tone to it than I remembered.
“Yeah, yeah. Heard you the first time” Pierce’s tail swayed and flapped once in agitation during his flippant reply.
“That is not the answer that I am expecting from you, Arrow. Perhaps I did not make myself understood during our discussion” Cadence firmly replied without missing a beat. Her eyes narrowed as she stood by the doorway, “If I hear so much as one more harassment complaint from any female students minding their own business… you’ll be bounced from this school so fast that your hooves won’t even touch the ground. Is that resolutely clear?” She projected with an absolute authority that befitted her Royal counterpart across the portal, and I supposed it fit this four legged iteration of the woman as well.
I examined this odd creature who shared the same name as the first Princess I ever met. She was roughly the same size as my illusion was, albeit she sported a much longer horn than mine (Not that I was jealous or anything!). She was dressed in a dark pink business suit that contrasted with her light pink coat and lent her the airs of a corporate lawyer. There was a special cutaway in the outfit that allowed a free range of movement for her feathery, non ethereal wings, which were no less beautiful or elegant in physical form, in contrast to my more wavy, flashy ones. An article of half moon glasses not unlike the kind that Rarity sometimes donned that sat perched atop her muzzle only accentuated my opinion on that. Interesting to note was that her fur did not exhibit the gemlike shimmering trait unlike everyone around her, something that intrigued my inner scholar.
Not surprisingly, she was an Alicorn (though for all I knew they might have called her a Unisus or Pegacorn) in this world. A majestic creature that was blessed with a lengthy spiral grooved horn, enhanced musculature, and a graceful pair of wings that occasionally quivered at her sides with what I assumed to be annoyance at the unruly attitude of Piercing Arrow. While I had no idea what that meant as far as her status in society, what it immediately spoke to me was that she was an important figure, at the very least within the boundaries of this school. She wore a hard line across her lips, though there were the faintest hints of a positive expression within them. It carried a benevolently caring aura that I recalled as being vaguely familiar to me despite the arrant discrepancies between faces. It was hard for me to accurately describe, but I could chalk it up as her being a stern, but fair overseer of the school. On a side note, the similarities between the respective worlds were as equally fascinating as the differences. It’s a darn shame that it did absolutely nothing to deter my desire to get the heck out of here.
The effect of her inexorable authority was visibly felt, and Pierce lost some of his arrogant swagger as his ears splayed back against his head, “Err… Yes, Missus Cadence. I’ll do my best to hold myself back the next time I spot a shapely flank-… I mean face! Heh heh…” He fake laughed nervously as he corrected himself. His defeated tone sounded mostly truthful, but from the weary way that the Principal was regarding him, it seemed to me that Pierce was a repeat harassment offender on a very short leash.
Cadence sighed, her wings drooping somewhat with the exhalation, “I suppose that’s the most I can ask of you at this point. Be sure to not deprive our archery team of your skill before Wednesday’s interschool competition comes around, Piercing Arrow. You’re half the reason why they’ve been doing so well as a whole”
A hint of a smile came to Pierce’s lips as he chuckled, “Ha… don’t I know it! Hope your talk with her isn’t as much of a drag as mine was pal” He conspiratorially muttered to me in passing as he brushed by me and towards the exit.
Cadence sadly swiveled her head side to side before focusing on the mare at the desk, “Secretary Sassy, I believe you pinged my office earlier? Do I have another appointment with a student?” The Principal directed towards her personal secretary.
“Unless it’s with some other pony who also happens to hail from Germaneigh, I dare say that you do Caddy” Sassy wisecracked, never once diverting her attention from her precious keyboard.
Principal Cadence brought a hoof to her face and rubbed it in vexation, “Must you be so casual with me in front of the students? I swear, if it wasn’t for the fact that your efficient secretarial skills redeem your flaws in professional etiquette, I’d have found a new secretary a long time ago” She moaned, though her partially jesting tone suggested that she wasn’t entirely serious about replacing her.
“You know you love me!” Sassy remarked with the first hint of a smile I had seen on her (glib as it was), which vanished the moment she saw me staring, “Anywho… tall, dark, and lanky over here is that foreign born student we were told last month would be arriving sometime this month. That time is today, by the way” She pushed her glasses back up her muzzle with a hoof and idly gesticulated to me in indication, her eyes never leaving her computer screen, as was the norm.
Cadence squinted her eyes and finally noticed me sitting on the side before blinking in surprise, “Oh! I hardly noticed him sitting there with how quiet he was. Please come in, come in!” She ushered me inside of her office with a curling gesture of her hoof, which I obeyed, getting to my feet and walking to her.
“Perhaps you’re starting to develop cataracts” Sassy snidely speculated, “Would you like me to schedule your next appointment with the closest ophthalmologist?” She offered in a tone that made it hard to tell if she was being genuinely deliberate about it or not.
“That will be all for now. Thank you Secretary Sassy” Cadence kindly replied with a winsome flashing of teeth and the patience of a saint as I shuffled past her.
Once I was inside, she punctually closed the door behind us with the bright luminescence of her magic, the latch of the door clicking with the bolt fleetingly echoing throughout the office. A darker portion of my mind likened it to the reverberating slamming of an asylum door, which chipped away at some of my bravery. So that this unease wouldn’t show up straightaway on my acutely sensitive ponygänger’s face, I put my fretfulness to the side by occupying myself with taking in the sights of Cadence’s more modern variation of the citadel’s throne room.
The office of the Principal was relatively spartan compared to what I had initially expected of the primly dressed over-mare. The air smelled faintly of dried paper and raspberries, which incidentally reminded me of the way my high school principal’s office smelled. The room was furnished with a large rosewood desk adorned with a diagonally placed computer screen, a logo-less coffee mug, a thick pile of papers, a chrome file cabinet, and what appeared to a be a picture frame whose contents I couldn’t see from this angle. Oddly enough, there was a tiny ink well with a feather quill stuffed into it sitting next to the paper pile, which contrasted heavily with all the other modern implements that were common here. There was also an inviting guest chair that had physical spine support for me for the first time since I arrived, though it was crafted at an awkward angle that would require me to lean forward a little once I graced it with my magic infused, illusory posterior.
“Before we begin, I’d like to dispel any false notions that my secretary’s actions may have engendered in you. Secretary Sassy is allowed to make her grating remarks to me to her jagged heart’s content with a minimum of negative consequences, but here in this school we undeviatingly respect the chain of command, all right?” I nodded my agreement like the picture perfect student I was pretending to be.
Gladdened by my acquiescence, she went on, “I figure that the rules are basically the same in institutions of learning even across countries, yes? So there shouldn’t be much for you to adjust to in that regard” She said to me as we both sat in chairs that offered some real back support for a change.
She dipped her head to me in official greeting, “Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Mi Amore Cadenza, which is Istallion for something long winded that I rarely ever use these days. However, you may call me Principal Cadence” She then stared at me funny, perhaps she was off put by my buttoned up attitude, “Is your Equish sufficient enough to fully understand me, or do I need to call upon the services of a translator?” She asked, crooking her head at my prolonged vocal silence.
I wagged a hand in the air, “That won’t be necessary madam Cadence. I assure you that I am most proficient with your language” I enunciated crisply with pride. I wasn’t one to brag, but my English scores were always superlative.
She raised an eyebrow at first, but made no comment on my accent-less voice, “Very well. Allow me to retrieve your file and we can truly get you squared away” She spun in her fancy desk chair and pulled at one of the drawers of her file cabinet.
I internally began to sweat, ‘Hoo… boy, this might not end well. Once she sees that my profile doesn’t match the image they might have on hand, I’m basically screwed!’ I instantly regretted coming to this meeting as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I inconspicuously and invisibly tensed up as I readied myself to run.
Cadence rifled through the contents of her shiny metal cabinet, using the bottom part of her right hoof to browse her way up each of the tabs before she found the one she was looking for and pulled it out. Either she had adhesives applied to her hoof or I was missing out on something important concerning pony anatomy, because the file folder stuck to her flat appendage as if it was glued on. While I was distracted with the sheer implications behind such a trivially enacted yet improbable action, the Alicorn Principal slapped the folder down on the desk and casually flipped it open, either ignoring or unaware of my increasing state of agitation. She inhaled sharply and her face twisted in dismay as she spotted something amiss on the file’s pages, causing the blood in my veins to chill.
“Oh… drat! When did I spill ink on these!? Fiddlesticks! Your photo is completely ruined!” She clicked her tongue a few times in self directed disappointment before salvaging the situation and looking over the rest of the documents that were unaffected by her apparent slip up. I forced a stream of breath from my mouth as I felt as though I had just dodged a bullet with this propitious happenstance.
“Ah… here you are, Z. Buckenheimer. A self admitted quirky foreign student hailing from Germaneigh. Specifically from the river town of Zweibücken, yes?” She questioned distractedly, shuffling the papers in her hooves and creasing her brow as she scanned what was still legible.
I withheld a pained wince. Even the town names of far away places were ponified.
“Err… Ja, vielleicht bin ich” I responded, taking a moment to shift from an English mindset to a German one.
“Equish, please” The smartly dressed principal reminded me in a polite voice.
I pretended to look sheepish as I rubbed a hand against my the back of my head, “Indeed I am, ma’am. And while I miss it very much, I also want to keep my outlook positive and hope that I will come to see this land as a sort of home someday” I poured on the wistful emotion, requesting to myself that my serious side to take a backseat for now.
‘Ha! Fat chance of that happening. This ranks among the most brain-dead things we’ve ever had to do’ It sarcastically remarked to me, and I couldn’t really argue against it.
It was strange (more so than what was routine so far) to me that the first letter of this foreign student’s name matched the one I had adopted. Was it possible that the pers-… pony I was impersonating, was like me? In the crudely similar way that this world’s Silver Sword was like the other Silver Sword? I dismissed the notion pretty quickly; as I didn’t have nearly enough German ancestry in me that any potential counterparts would ever hail straight from a region bearing a mockery of the country’s name.
“How is Germaneigh this time of year, might I ask?” Cadence wanted to know as she focused on me, “My husband and I are planning on having our second honeymoon sometime soon and I’ve been entertaining the idea of traveling someplace I’ve never been to before… someplace romantic” For the first time, Cadence adopted a euphoric smile that was indicative of a happy marriage as she cradled the picture frame in her hoof.
She held it in such a way that I could just barely manage to see what was on it. Within the frame was an image of an off duty Cadence supporting her upper body over the back of a ponified Shining Armor with her two forelegs hanging over his side as the sun was setting in the background. It was a moment frozen in time as she was caught laughing joyously at the camera while he was looking aside in grinning curiosity to see what she was doing. Just gazing at the picture brought forth an unbidden heartwarming fuzziness in my chest. Some things would never change. Even on opposite ends of the mirror it seemed.
I blinked away the sappy sensation and thought up a believable answer, “Umm… well, I can’t offer an unbiased view of it, seeing as it served as my home for the better portion of my life…” I obfuscated some more sheepishness before ditching it and getting down to the nitty gritty, “But if you do decide to travel to my homeland, avoid the overused tourist spots, they charge too much and are far too crowded for you and your husband to really get the most out of them. My sincere advice to you is that you go out of your way to ask the locals where the real destination spots are located and I’m sure that they’ll be willing to oblige you” I smiled back at her.
She nodded in gratitude as she set the photo frame back on the desk, “I see… Well I shall certainly take your advice into account once we finalize our decision. So what does the Z in your name stand for?” Cadence followed up, her eyes tracing lines across the second page in the documents, “I can’t have ponies simply calling you by your family name, after all”
“Zenith, ma’am” I averted my eyes throughout most of the conversation as a ostensible gesture of submissive respect to authority, even if I boiling inside about this whole ‘repeat of high school’ thing.
“Hmm… interesting name” Cadence complimented me as her eyes stopped at one detail on the file and lingered there, “So it says here on your file that you and your family were not slated to arrive until the beginning of next week. Care to explain why you’re a week early for me?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but I could detect the reasonable suspicion behind it.
“Gladly. You see… my family, like me, was dreading the idea of having to move so far away from the familiar embrace of our homeland, nay… our heartland. But in the course of our rapidly fraying nerves, I was able to persuade them that the sooner we got it over with, the less painful the transition would be overall due to our self inflicted nai- hoof biting. And to be candid with you, I didn’t spend so much time thoroughly practicing my… Equish for nothing, you know?” Cadence repeated her reaction of raising an askance eyebrow but making no comment on the matter.
I sought to conclude my monologue on an eager note, “I looked forward and am still looking forward, mind you, to seeing just how proficient I am with it in this new setting of mine” I explicated, being sure to inject some homesick emotion into my voice during the appropriate parts. Doing so was a lot easier for me than I expected, given how much I missed Arcania already at this point.
She hummed in thought as her eyebrow arched, “Impressively so, I’d say. And the statement here saying that you scored top marks in your Equish classes back home backs it up. You saw fit to replicate this success in your math courses as well. So much so in fact, that it isn’t technically necessary for you to repeat them over here for this year” She informed me, sounding legitimately astounded at ‘my’ reported academic excellence.
‘That clinches it. This guy is definitely nothing like me. But at least it means I don’t have to put up with ghastly maths’ I mentally rolled my eyes, feeling equal quantities of jealousy and gratefulness towards my unwitting, academically skillful ‘proxy’.
“May I see what’s on my schedule for this school then? Equish and Math were always present on everyb-… pony’s schedule back home” I briefly stuttered, tripping over a word I had to watch out for in order to avoid arousing undue questions about my true nature.
The Principal gave me a frustratingly unreadable poker face, her lips a thin line that were neither smiling nor frowning, “Of course you may” Her hoof flipped the page and she pulled out a slip of laminated paper that she proceeded to slide towards me on the desk surface. I reached out to it with my magic and levitated it towards me before taking it in my hand-hooves and perusing through its contents.
I was not remotely surprised that I was late for the first ten minutes of my first hour long period class starting at eight on the dot. The class itself was some kind of inventive innovation crafting workshop that probably involved putting things together and exercising the creative muscle of the brain. Someone named Peabody, which didn’t sound like the kind of name that garnered fear or respect to put it mildly, ran this classroom. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary about it, so I decided to look more into the others.
“I need to be creative so early in the morning? What else awaits me at this school I wonder?” I muttered to no one in particular as I scanned the other three classes listed.
The class after the workshop was a culinary arts course that apparently was taught by a Miss Daisy. Interesting to note was that it specifically referred to her as a bovine instructor on the slip next to her name (‘Go figure. A cow teaching a cooking class’). The class after that was a standard dramatic acting course taught by a Mister Ham (‘Why isn’t he the one teaching the cooking class?’). And last but not least, the final course of the school day was a generalized world history unit that I actually anticipated attending, if only to see more of the simil-differences between this world and Arcania. The instructor’s name for this one caught my eye though, indexed as Missus C. Clear.
‘It couldn’t be… could it?’ I shook my head, passing it off as being purely coincidental.
Cadence decided to chime in as I wrestled with the viable alternate identities of my history instructor, “Ensure that you do not lose that, as it runs the risk of your account being suspended due to somepony else misusing it in your name. In case you did not have such a system in your old school, you can use that barcode on the back as your lunch ticket in the cafeteria. You just need to have one of the cafeteria staff scan it before you go partaking of our award winning health oriented selection of organic lunch foods” She came off as quite proud of this recognition for something I’ve never given two hoots about.
She continued elaborating on the benefits of my schedule slash food coupon card, “It additionally functions as your student identification in that regard, so you can utilize it to sign up for whatever you please during your stay here. Sports games, competitions, shows, whichever catches your fancy. Your locker serial number and combination code are also written on the back, be sure that you don’t share that with anypony you don’t know either” The Principal advised me, peering at me with eyes that were a good deal more scrutinizing than before.
I pretended to stuff the slip into my saddle-schoolbags when in reality I was stuffing it into a sewn in pocket in my robes, “My thanks. I suppose I ought to leave for my first class before I’m even more late to it, huh?” I made to stand up from my seat, but the Alicorn stopped me before I could escape her clutches.
“Before you do… would you mind answering one last question of mine?” Cadence entreated of me with a deceptively curious tone and an almost playful batting of her eyelashes.
“Feel free” I replied, not seeing any other choice in the matter.
“Why did you cast a ‘mind me not’ charm on yourself?” Her tender eyes hardened as she attempted to see through it, “I must confess that you have a singular adeptness for inscrutable spells, I only just noticed it a few minutes ago! Have you something to hide about yourself, mister Buckenheimer?”
‘Uh oh, I better answer this one quick before she lifts it with her own magic or does some other thing to that effect’ Her almost mocking smile overcame my fear of being discovered and replaced it with a low cunning as I thought of a way to weasel my way out of telling the truth.
My shoulders slumped as I deflated in my seat, “I’m ashamed to admit this to you, Principal Cadence, but I can be shy in social settings to a degree of near anxiety filled debilitation at most times. So I often cast charms like that on myself in order to avoid any kind of socialization outside of the classroom setting” I failed to meet her eyes, as if this was a sensitive topic for me to concede to.
“And yet you’ve participated in several rather sociable extra curricular clubs at your old school?” She tilted her head slightly in confusion. Cadence clearly didn’t believe me, but I was thankfully provided a solution to counteract her logical skepticism.
“Why do you think there’s an acting elective on my schedule when it could have been anything else if I so chose?” I shot back as politely as I could, “It’s so that I can be sure my acting skills can cover up that unspoken social deficit sufficiently enough that other ponies won’t notice that I’m putting on an act for them when necessary. I’m not proud of throwing up a screen to hide behind like that instead of being naturally gregarious and outgoing, but I’d much prefer to preserve as much of my reserved dignity as possible” I explained with a grain of truth behind the blatant lie.
She mulled my explanation for the perception filter over in her head before shaking it in tentative acceptance, “You don’t have to fear ostracism for being yourself in this school, Zenith. We accept all kinds of ponies and even non-ponies openly here. And should your fellow students disagree with this well known policy and treat you poorly, then you should come to me with these concerns and I will do my duty as your Principal and correct them appropriately” She laid a hoof against her breast, as though she was making a solemn vow to me.
‘A Principal with principles, eh? It’s comforting to know that I can still rely on Cadence even when she’s in a totally different form’ The small upward curl on my lips that her promise elicited would help me misdirect her further.
I bowed my head to her in gratitude, “I thank you for this reassurance Principal Cadence, though I must insist on keeping the ‘mind me not’ charm active until I feel adequately ready to mesh with the student body here in a friendly context” I refused to budge on this. They might tolerate non ponies here, but I very much doubted that their philanthropic clemency held up when applied to nonstudents.
She sighed forbearingly, “Very well. I cannot force you to socialize with your peer group, Zenith. But I think that if you give ponies here a chance, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by how accommodating they can be”
“I do not doubt your words, Missus Cadence. It’s just that we… Germane ponies prefer to find these things out in our own time. May I leave now? I don’t think Mister Peabody would want any of his students to be truant, even if they are technically a week early” I said with a chuckle, legitimately amused by how unobstructed my deception was going for me so far.
She hoofed me a freshly dipped ink quill and indicated towards a signature line at the very bottom of the last page of my file, which I signed off on, making doubly sure that there wasn’t an umlaut in Buckenheimer.
Making a grunt of affirmation once she examined my less than flawless signature, she spoke, “Yes, you are excused from my office. Run along to your classes now” She waved me off, motioning towards the door before folding the file closed and placing it back in the silvery cabinet, “And tell Mister Peabody that the day his students manage to invent a time machine of all things is the day I’ll eat my own horn!” She humorously requested as I was halfway out the door.
“Will do” I acceded with a two finger valedictory salute without looking back to her (Not that she’d be able to see it through my illusion’s bland hoof gesture).
As I walked out of the Principal’s office and into the waiting room, the mare at the computer verbally saw me off, “Welcome to CCHS, young stallion. I’m sure you’ll have a sublime time here” Came Secretary Sassy’s last pseudo disingenuous quip to me of the morning.
“I intend to” I replied rather curtly as I shut the lobby door behind me with a back swing of my boot-hoof.
I was deep in introspective thought as I traversed the offsettingly quiet, ever winding hallways of the labyrinthine high school, my footfalls making soft clopping noises that echoed in the enclosed passages. My thoughts were nothing terribly relevant, mostly concerning how easily I had been allowed to infiltrate this school in my quest to get my stuff back. My cynical side warned me as always that infiltrating the school was only half the work, the rest would be fitting in with the student body while also finding out where I could locate my trophy-fied Tantō somehow. Passing by rows upon rows of generic, green lockers, I noiselessly made my way to my first class. Navigation was made much easier for me once I happened across a directory panel that enlightened me to the crisscrossed layout of the building. It reminded me of battleship in a way, with vertical columns of the grid being assigned a number while the horizontal columns were given a letter. Crystal City High School was larger than it appeared on the outside, since the letters went all the way down to J.
Not a single soul beside myself was presently roaming the halls, which would have been unnerving had I not considered a lack of company to be a desirable thing. Seriously, you would have expected at least one or two students ambling down the corridors after excusing themselves to the restrooms to relieve themselves, but such was not the case. Crystal City students were far too diligent for such profligate luxuries like bathroom breaks, it seemed. But my mental tangents aside, I was quite worried about my short term future. I could feel my mana reserves depleting faster than I initially estimated, with me only having enough mojo to get myself through my first period class if I stayed mostly inactive and didn’t use any kind of magic whatsoever. As one might expect, this was not a feasible plan to rely on. Somehow I would need to find a way to replenish my reserves of magic between classes so that my disguise would not inconveniently fail when I was in the middle of something potentially important.
The answer to my little dilemma would be literally stumbled upon, as I wasn’t fully watching where I was going during my musings and found myself bumping into a drink machine as I was absently running my fingers along a random locker row.
I contemplated disregarding the device as being just another literal roadblock on my quest to retrieve my Tantō and take the portal back to Arcania, but thought better of it and devoted some time to examine the machine. It was built with ponies in mind, so the top of the button panel for inputting numbers was about level with my lower midsection while I could see over the top of the machine without difficulty. The machine emitted a low, humming thrum as what I presumed to be an electric compressor cycled gases through a loop and separated them to create a temperature gradient that would cool the contents inside. One refrigerated drink brand in particular snatched up my attention as my eyes scoured the racks. It was titled Red Pegasus, with the cylindrical can sporting an emblem of two completely red pegasi flying against a yellow sun-like circle. It was spun about enough that my keen vision could make out a warning label written with bold lettering on the back.
‘Warning, do not drink in excess of three cans per day if you are a unicorn, as Red Pegasus can cause migraines as well as sudden, uncontrollable surges in magic. The Red Pegasus brewing company will not be held accountable for any adverse health effects to the drinker or anypony nearby should this warning be ignored’ I read in my head.
I brought a hand to my chin and stroked it in consideration. I never was a big fan of taking energy drinks back home, as they made me feel too tense afterwards for my tastes. But I had no qualms about setting my opinions aside if need be for the sake of maintaining my magic hungry disguise. I made to reach into the munny pouch that was concealed within my robes and withdraw a coin when I noticed that there was no slot to insert it. Instead the drink machine had an automatic bill insertion device that read ‘Insert bucks here’.
“Oh of fracking course…” I grumbled, my typically handy gold coins had no usable value in this situation, “I have half a mind to give this machine a few bucks of a different variety” I muttered bitterly.
“Forgot to convert to using bucks, huh? Need me to spare you?” Came Silver’s helpful sounding voice from behind me.
I nearly jumped as I did a double take (my ponygänger even whinnied in shock), “Mein Gott im Himmel! Silver Sword? You really must stop sneaking up on me like this” I half chided him, nervous about how I was so absorbed by this machine that I couldn’t even hear his unmuted hoof steps creeping up on me, “What’re doing out here anyway? Didn’t you say that you had class?”
One of his eyebrows climbed upward, “Uh… I needed a restroom break?” He spoke slowly, as though confused that he would need to explain his presence in the first place.
‘Not as diligent as I thought’ I amended my earlier assumption about the student’s ability to self inspire scholastic efficacy and shy away from their distracting bodily urges to excrete.
“Oh… ” I pathetically murmured, “That makes sense”
“Nah, I’m actually ditching class and was just dodging the proctors when I found you” He grinned as he found an excuse to humor himself.
I gave him a disapproving half lidded stare, “Truancy is never an acceptable thing, Silver. Education is the greatest blessing that any civilized society can confer upon its denizens, and I pity those who do not see the importance of this” I waxed my philosophical ideology.
His ears laid flat on his head and he recoiled with a wince at my less than amused response, “You’re right… I shouldn’t even joke about stuff like that” He distractedly scraped a hoof against the floor, “Still want me to help you out with that machine? You look pretty thirsty” He offered again, patting the satchel bag on his back using one of his ludicrously flexible walking appendages.
I bowed my head for the third occasion that day, “I would greatly appreciate your assistance once again, Silver. I promise to repay you the first opportunity that I can” I pledged, debating internally how I was going to do so without resorting to not so savory methods of money accumulation.
He shook his head, “There’s no need, Zenith. I’m always happy to help out a friend” He twisted his neck in such a way that his satchel slid around his neck so that he could reach into it, “Which drink do you want?” He questioned me, fiddling with a silvery wallet composed wholly out of duct tape, which I found somewhat cute.
“That can of Red Pegasus, please?” I asked politely, pointing with a hand-hoof towards the third row where the drink was.
“An energy drink huh?” Silver face contorted in badly hidden disgust, “Personally I think that stuff is too gnarly to enjoy, but I’ve heard that it does a fine job of keeping you wide eyed and alert for the remainder of the day”
“I need it for my mana reserves to be honest. They’re getting a bit too low for my liking” I admitted with a forthright shrug.
“Your magic’s still in the process of waking up huh? Red Pegasus will definitely kick start your magic for you then. Isn’t it ironic? A drink brand invented by a solely Pegasi owned corporation works best for their unicorn customers” Silver found this fact to be funny, evidenced by a wry cracking of his lips.
“Well… it wouldn’t be true capitalism if they only pandered to a specific customer base and excluded all others, now would it?” I countered, not seeing where he was trying to go with that remark.
“We’re learning about something like that in my econ class actually” Silver casually conversed with me as he inserted what looked like a yellow, ponified version of the dollar bill into the slot, with made an electronic winding noise as it eagerly devoured the banknote.
Silver was then able to input the item number for the refreshment onto the clunky button panel, which resulted in the screw mechanism rolling a couple of helixes until the can tumbled down into the bin below. Silver pushed his hoof past the cover of the retrieval bin before taking the can in the recess behind his scrunched up pastern and tossing it over to me, which I deftly caught in my magic. I wordlessly marveled at how eerily similar this place was to home during times like these.
I pulled at the exceedingly large aluminum metal tab with my fingers and popped the lid open. With that accomplished, I held it up to Silver Sword in a gesture of salute, “Zum Wohl!” I toasted him, before I leaned down to the level of my illusion’s head, titled the can back, and took a deep swig.
It took a significant amount of willpower not to immediately retch and spit it back out as the foul liquid tormented my taste buds with its grassy, vile aftertaste. If the taste was bad, the miasmatic stench that it left in my mouth was ten times worse, clogging my sinuses with an overbearing scent that was not at all pleasant to put up with. If someone could manufacture a carbonated form of wheatgrass mixed with motor oil and sell it to the public, I imagine that this drink would be the closest analogy to it. Silver shamelessly snickered at the nauseated expression on my illusion’s cheeks (it actually took on a green hue!), to which I balefully glared at him for.
He ceased his delighted chortles and held up a hoof in placation, “Hey now, there’s no need to be so cross! I did tell you that stuff was gnarly didn’t I?”
As much as I wanted to vehemently disagree in my disgruntled state, I couldn’t deny the validity of that statement. On the plus side, I could already feel the invigorating effect that the drink had on my magic. The alerting mental pull that signaled to me that my mana reserves were gradually depleting began to fade away as I begrudgingly took more gulps of the potion like energy drink and swallowed them down with a hacking cough. The magic restoring properties of the brew were as potent as its flavor, and before long I felt close to the level I was at when I crossed over the portal.
My shoulders fell as I wiped a forearm against my mouth to dry it, “Whatever… it did what I needed it to do. Where’s the recycle bin?” I inquired, waving the painstakingly emptied can in the air emphatically, “I’d like to dispose of this rubbish and put this unpalatable memory far behind me” I bemoaned with a queasy tone.
Silver quirked a brow and snorted a very horse like snort, “Recycle bin? Never heard of anything of that sort. But I can take that for you, if you wish” He offered instead, “I was just on my way to the bathroom, remember? I can just toss it in one of the regular trash cans on my way in”
‘These ponies don’t practice recycling? I’m going to have to knock a few points off their modern society score’ I thought disapprovingly as Silver graciously took the hollow can from my grasp.
“We should get to where we need to be” Silver stated while rubbernecking both directions of the hallway, as if someone could happen upon us at any moment, “My joke about the proctors wasn’t entirely without its merit. Those uptight mares don’t take kindly to anything they might perceive as us ‘playing hooky’ in the halls. I’m not fond of the idea of marring my record and endangering my good standing on the student council” He told me with air quotes, clearly not thinking too highly of ponies who were just doing their job. Though I could have been making unwarranted assumptions without proof again.
“Right. I’ll see you later, okay Silver? I’ve got to make it to Peabody’s class before I miss out on the whole period” We proceeded to go our separate ways when a small detail in my words rang a bell in Silver’s head.
The colt ground to a halt and turned back to me, “You’re in Peabody’s class? Hey, wait a sec, do you mind delivering a message for me to one of the other students in there?” He suddenly requested, a hint of suppressed, desperate urgency in his voice.
“Of course Silver! You’ve been nothing but a boon to me, so I see no reason why I can’t return the favor” I responded with genuine appreciation.
He took a breath and clacked his teeth together; ruminating about what he was going to say, “Tell a big colt there named Ardent Bastion that I’m sorry for starting that petty argument last week, in front of his fillyfriend no less! And that I’m a real dunce for ever doubting his ability to carry our chess team to victory against Vanhoover High. I screwed up bad… and I don’t want it to sour things between us for the rest of the semester” Silver apologetically bid me to speak to his alienated friend.
‘Side objective added. Mend the apparently strained relationship between friends’ I updated the quest list in my head. It was convenient that the objective marker was already on the way.
“Ardent Bastion. Got it” I said with a nod, “How will I know what he looks like?” I asked in follow up, partly because I couldn’t give away that I already had a preformed idea in my head and partly because it didn’t hurt to know these things for certain.
“It’s kind of hard to miss him, really. He’s light brown, bulky, has a mussy, sandy mop of a mane on his head, and has also got this Cutie Mark of a pointy looking fortification with a towering rook chess piece in the background” Silver filled me in, using the hoof with my emptied can in it to make all kinds of exaggerated gestures at portions of his body that I’m sure would have made perfect sense if I had an equine’s brain.
“Alright, I’ll keep an eye out for him. See ya later Silver!” I waved farewell to him before rounding the corner and disappearing from view.
Occasionally referring to the grid maps posted in every hallway, I made decent time getting to Peabody’s classroom. Calling it a classroom may not have been the most accurate description in the strictest sense though, for as I expended a miniscule amount of magic to open the door (I couldn’t risk touching any saliva coated door handles after all), a room of substantial depth and open aired, unenclosed space was revealed to me. The interior of the workshop was like a cross between a mechanic’s garage and a warehouse, with dozens of opened crates containing all kinds of solid material such as gears, electric motors, wheels, and other hardware items arrayed for direct access by the students. The walls were painted a woody brown that somehow accentuated the glassy white linoleum tiles that reminded me of the old IPod cases. Skylights lining the ceiling allowed for streams of natural sunlight to shine on the floor of the workshop, where ponies roved to and from while collecting items and bringing them back to their ‘desks’ for assembly. They were closer to full fledged workbenches in reality, with screw lever vises, illuminating lamps, and toolboxes.
“What’s this? A wayward visitor to my domain?” Came a flustered voice to my left. I turned my head accordingly to see an immaculately white pony professor of both hide and mane examining me from his desk chair.
His apparel consisted of a checkered shirt and a red bow tie. He had on rounded and thickly framed black rimmed glasses. His face, which was worn by age and showed the signs of obtaining early permanent wrinkles, regarded me with a heavy scowl, “Speak! Thou apparition!” He demanded in a slightly North Atlantic accent that was much more convincing than Rarity’s. Not that I would ever tell her that I was aware of her minor deception.
I felt obligated to correct the instructor even though I knew he didn’t mean it literally, “I’m a little more tangible than your average phantasm. By the way, is your roster kept up to date? Because I’m the new colt in school” I announced, feeling the most inexplicable urge to put on shades for an entrance introduction which wasn’t even that catchy. At worst, I was slowly but surely adapting to using the equid vernacular, even if it was species-centric.
“Ah… a quick witted one, eh?” The instructor bobbed his head as though he understood me exactly, unveiling a pair of green eyes that his glasses once again hid with the reflection of sunlight from above, “Might I see your schedule first? The memo told me I’d be receiving new blood in my workshop for next week” He held out his hoof and made a ‘gimme’ motion expectantly.
“Certainly!” I produced the schedule slip and handed it to him, “Is it really so bad that I’m early though?”
He shook his head, his eyes reading the slip at the same time, “Not at all! In fact I quite encourage punctuality in all areas of life! At least until I get all of the kinks worked out of that chronosphere machine… then I wouldn’t care less about it” He mumbled to himself. I surreptitiously reversed a few steps awkwardly in case this guy’s strain of eccentricity was contagious.
Satisfied, he hummed to himself in confirmation and hoofed the slip back to me, “I must apologize to you, as I haven’t yet set up an assembly table for you since you’re a tad early… but I’m sure that one of your fellow students would be more than willing to accommodate you with theirs” He washed his hooves of me, taking a marker and inscribing my name down on what must have been the roll call.
When he still saw me standing there, he spoke, “Well? Are you just going to stand there and dawdle? Or are you going to exercise some of that famous Germane engineering prowess I’ve heard so much about in passing? The first unrestricted idea project is due by this Thursday for your information, and I can be a rather finicky grader since I’m being so lenient with the innovation criteria. So the sooner you can begin, the better off you’ll be” He informed me in a vaguely patronizing voice.
“As soon as I discover the best place to set up, I assure you that I will, Mister Peabody” I retorted to him evenly, searching for Ardent Bastion somewhere among the teeming throngs of ponies experimenting with all manners of slapdash contrivances. It was a larger class population than I would have thought, easily numbering in the sixties. Even with my height advantage, I’d be hard pressed to spot him just from the inordinate number of students crowding the room alone.
“You may call me Hector, if you wish. I never cared much for stiff necked propriety… or my last name, for that matter” He sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing tiredly at his bright green eyes with a foreleg. It was possible that he had made this request several times in the past, “Should you be doing anything involving soldering, there are face shields in the material closet behind me…” He indicated with a pointing motion of his hoof, “…right next to the blowtorches. Cognate materials are sorted jointly in this class, so it shouldn’t prove too difficult for you to find what you need”
“Thank you for apprising me, Hector” I replied warmly.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face before vanishing just as fast, “Yes, yes. Now off with you old boy!” He dismissed me, growing tired of my presence.
I obliged and troubled him no longer, relocating into the interior of the workshop. I took in each of the student’s works as I zigzagged around several workbenches with cluttered pieces and parts scattered on top of their surfaces. Some of them actually looked promising, such as a micro scale windmill machine that incorporated solar panels as fan blades and cranked an equally micronized generator that was hooked up to the internal main shaft. I noted that the juxtaposition of a non recycling society that knew about harnessing renewable energy and had the technology to show for it was charmingly quaint. The execrable results of multiple failed projects lay huddled into heaped piles by the side like a compacted monument to aborted failures.
As I searched around in the sea of faces for the telltale signs of Ardent Bastion, I could faintly hear a low, vocalized humming in the background, like that of a depressed church choir doing warm up practice. Before long, the singing of voices began to grace my ears. I furtively glanced about in confusion before I realized that the whole class was in the early stages of singing in unison.
“The project deadline’s buzzing in my skull~” Sang one worried appearing colt, who was anxiously tapping his hooves against his temples as he sat at his desk and fretted over what he should do before that date snuck up on him.
“Will it let us be? We cannot say…~” Came a unanimous chorus in support.
“There are so many issues I cannot grasp. When I think I’ve solved them, and then at last… through my bony hoof-tips it doth slip. Like a soap-bar in an oily grip!~” Another colt lamented frustratingly, swiping his foreleg across his desk like a broom, scattering his menagerie of sloppily sketched on papers all over the linoleum.
“Something’s here we’re not quite getting. Though we try, we keep forgetting. Like a memory long since passed. It’s here in an instant, but gone in a flash. How can this be, how can this be!?~” The chorus angrily demanded.
“In this crate of bric-a-brac, are secrets waiting to be cracked~” Sang a chartreuse maned mare as she rifled through the contents of one of the boxes filled with materials, “These cogs and gears confuse me so. Confound it all! I love it though~” She sighed acceptingly, tossing said items back into the box and skulking into the shadows of a supply closet in search of something she could make use of.
“I’ve read these schematic books so many times. I know the vectors, and I know the lines! I’ve have each instruction memorized, all by heart~” Bragged one conservatively dressed boffin of a mare, garnering her the jealous glares of her nearby compatriots. She was working on what had to be some kind of self operating vacuum cleaner with floor scanning optics. It wasn’t half as sleek as a Roomba though.
“My head’s so full it’s tearing me apart!~” Sang one mare with goggles as she dramatically held a foreleg to her noggin and pretended to faint backwards onto her messy setup table.
Each pony in the room took on the equine equivalent of a ‘thinker’ pose, “Perhaps it’s not as hopeless as we’ve been led to think. What’s a little risk if our grades could vanish in a blink? Are we trying much too hard? Just because we lack the key, doesn’t make failure a guarantee!~” They wailingly chorused in conjunction, as if endeavoring to reassure themselves.
The singing died down from there as every student wisely decided to focus on his or her own individual project instead of complaining about it in impeccable tune. Whatever magical mind virus possessed them to sing their woes in the first place subsided as the regular intermittent noises of the workshop took its place. Unlike the Harmonious Synchronization events back in Arcania, I couldn’t detect any trace of the coercive singsong magic in the air as a nonparticipating observer, which mystified me more than it should have.
‘Da fuq did I just witness? Was that was a High School musical was? If so… then I’m very glad that I never got roped into that downright silly nonsense’ I scoffed mentally. The strident sound of a bolt being driven into a sheet of metal grabbed my attention, and lucky it did, for I finally found the stallion I was looking for.
To be honest… Ardent Bastion’s pony counterpart was almost exactly like how I had pictured him. By and large, he was bigger than the other colts on average, both in size and in mass. His general demeanor exuded an energetic kind of strength as he eagerly hammered away at the nails that conjoined a metal sheet of medium thickness to one of two double wheeled, upside down V shaped supporting ‘legs’. Whatever Ardent was innovating, it was on the simple, if not rugged, side of things. There were no complex parts, bells, or whistles like with many of the other projects I saw, only pieces of an uncomplicated, yet sturdy puzzle waiting to be put together through the sweat of one’s brow. For Ardent it was just a straightforward drawing board to construction phase. I had a hunch that he and the Apple family had that trait in common, or perhaps all Agrarians had a natural inclination to keep their labors as free from convolution as circumstances permitted.
I approached in an obvious manner so that he would see me coming, “Hello there. I’m new to the class…” He stopped what he was doing to see who was interrupting him, “…mind if we cooperatively share a workstation?” I entreated him with my best ‘friendly’ voice, which incidentally was minimally less monotonous than my regular voice. I dispelled the saddle-schoolbags beforehand my illusion had to take them off, which it couldn’t realistically do without adding an even more taxing drain on my replenished magic reserves to create an unattached hard light projection.
Ardent dropped the hammer he was holding onto the table and climbed down from a three paneled stepladder as his eyes appraised me. I could see a hint of surprise in them when he became conscious to the fact that my ponygänger could meet him at eye level with some inches in height to spare, “Aye… I figure you could. It’s of no benefit to me anyway” He graciously indulged me, moving aside a few steps so I could move in to his workspace.
He then extended a hoof to me, which I carefully bumped with my fist this time, “What would your name be?” He inquired as he bent his head to the side.
I put a hand-hoof on my chest in introduction, “I’m Zenith. You must be Ardent Bastion, correct?”
“You speak truth” He gruffly nodded, “Though I can’t recall ever giving my name to somepony like you before” He remarked with dubiety.
“That’s because another student who knows you told me your name” I clarified for him.
His eyebrows rose, suspicious at what I meant, “And who told you?” He asked before suddenly holding up a hold, “No, wait! I get the impression that it was that dullard Silver Sword, wasn’t it?” He guessed accurately, before scowling moodily, “What did he want? And why would he send you in his stead to speak to me?” Ardent all but demanded, standing stiffly in place and attempting to stare down at me. It dawned on me that he was trying to intimidate the answers out of me. I’d overlook it this time, since I would probably react similarly had our positions been reversed.
“I’ll work backwards on those questions” I reflexively held up a duo of fingers that Ardent couldn’t perceive, “Firstly, Silver couldn’t speak to you because he obviously doesn’t share this class period with you”
Ardent snorted skeptically, “And he couldn’t come and speak to me afterwards during the interclass period, or in the second period that we do share? Or does he really think himself so high above me that he sends others to do his bidding?” He criticized both Silver and myself in the same faulty inference.
My jaw set firmly in place at what he was implying, “I’m no one’s lackey. I accepted his request purely out of a desire to reflect the goodwill that he had shown me as a new student to this school” I reproached him, “And I think the explanation to that would be blatantly obvious if you were able to look beyond the haze of your current distaste for him. Don’t you understand? He’s too ashamed of what he’s done to throw himself at your fee-, hooves… and beg your forgiveness” I amended at the end, diluting the potency of my words. Damn this horse centric vernacular! It was going to give me an aneurism at this rate.
“Did he even tell you how he earned my ‘current distaste’ for him?” Ardent cut in after an interval of silence, his facial expression remaining static.
“Something about starting an argument and doubting your ability at playing chess in front of your fillyfriend, to that effect?” I said with a shrug.
Ardent rolled his eyes, “Something to that effect” He sarcastically agreed, “He conveniently forgot to mention that he not only lambasted me… but he also had the gall to call my precious Strawberry Quartz a fool for associating herself with me” His eyes hardened, “He defiled both the honor of my fillyfriend and myself, trampled roughshod over our friendship… all because he valued maintaining the prestige of our school’s competitive record more than his faith in me. I have half a mind to denounce him in front of his admirers at the next fencing event as payback for what he did, but Strawberry, bless her kind heart, wants me to be the better stallion and turn the other cheek”
“If you really believe yourself to be the better stallion in this situation, then why don’t you seek him out afterwards and verify the authenticity of Silver’s penitence for yourself?” I reasoned with him, “Surely yours is a friendship worth rekindling?”
A low growl emanated from Ardent’s throat, “Tartarus will freeze over before I let that honor sullying, foil swinger have the pleasure of my friendship again without proving himself worthy of forgiveness” He stubbornly refused to take Silver merely at his word.
I shrugged, having at least delivered Silver’s message, “Suit yourself…” My eyes moved on to the pony sized project that Ardent was working on, “What’s this supposed to be? A mobile barrier of some sort?” I evaluated his work, changing the subject at the same time.
Ardent smiled, more than happy to get his mind off of the previous subject, “Close… It’s my take on a medieval era mantlet. Though unlike the crude historical constructions I researched to draw inspiration from,” He motioned with a hoof to an open binder with black and white sketches of old styled medieval arrow shields made from a wicker material, “This is made from a thinner sheet of iron that saves on weight while still retaining a fair degree of protection from incoming projectiles… not that I’d ever be foolish enough to try testing that for myself, nor do I have to” He whickered, finding amusement in his own sense of humor. My brow furrowed in response to the horse like noise, finding them inherently unsettling.
He leaned in and spoke in a conspiratorial voice, “Between you and me, I hear that Mister Peabody is real big on history, so I’m banking on that to improve my score”
“Clever…” I complimented him for his sycophantic thinking, “if it pays off, that is” I laconically opined in afterthought, though if he heard me, he didn’t show it.
I examined the wheels of this modern mantlet that was roughly halfway to its completion. They were more than just flat, rubberized metal rollers from I could tell. It was impressive that Ardent had the skills to incorporate a suspension system that utilized coiled springs as shock absorbers for better terrain resistance. The un-sloped armor shield needed revision though, in my opinion. But I couldn’t fault Ardent for not being aware of the dynamics of projectile deflection or effective use of angling for increased armor protection. Offhandedly, this served to remind me that I needed to inform Gizmo and the other technicians back in the capital city to be mindful of these things.
“You’re a regular engineer aren’t you? Forgive me when I say this, but I didn’t think you’d have it in you Ardent” I commented, harboring a newfound respect for both the man and the pony sharing the name.
Ardent grinned, “You’re not the first pony to underestimate my character based on a first glance. Most of them tend to assume that I’m just some meat headed jocktard whose only real use is on the hoofball field, but I like to think of myself as being more refined than that. Besides… it looks better on my records for Canterlot University if I have something other than ‘played lots of sports’ listed. Distinguishes me from the rest, you know?” He turned back to his work, picking up a screwdriver in his crooked foreleg (‘Seriously, how can these ponies bend their limbs like that so effortlessly!?’) and tightening the screws on a junction point attaching the wheel legs to the main body of the mantlet.
I figured that I might as well keep myself occupied and join in on building some haphazard object from scratch. Since Ardent’s project was too ungainly to be assembled right on top of the table, it left a lot of space open for me to use it for my own gains. Facing the wall, I browsed the labeled crates without a coherent idea of what I’d do with their contents in mind. Creativity wise I wasn’t the next Thomas Edison or Nikola Tesla when it came to innovation (or electrical engineering), but given the right materials and a lingering, formless thought in the back of my concious with the potential to become more, I could make some pretty interesting things when I put my mind to it.
Ten minutes of scrounging later and I was still no closer to formulating an idea of what to make. Nothing I pulled out of the crates that I sifted through made any mental combinations that I felt made any sense. While I did not necessarily need to worry about meeting the due date for this class or any of my other ones, I didn’t want the genuine Buckenheimer’s grade to suffer just because I was too lazy to pick up the slack for him. That would be in bad form. As an afterthought, I thought about the Battle of the Bands competition that would take place on Friday, which in turn made me think back to the last concert I had participated in. It was then that it finally clicked in my mind that the band members I rocked out alongside shared almost exactly the same names as the members of the Crescendolls! I got to perform with the human versions of Daft Punk legends!
I kept myself from geeking out just long enough for my mental tangent to take a constructive detour, and that formless idea I mentioned earlier sparked itself and ignited into something resembling a plan. I jogged around the workshop, juking around unwary ponies who were too distracted to watch where they were going on an errand to search for a crate or number of creates carrying the robotic parts that I’d need. With how short most of them were, it was entirely possible for me to clear them by stepping over them like they were diminutive obstacles, but I figured that my illusion wouldn’t be able to come up with a convincing explanation for how I was able to ‘float’ over them. So I settled for the old fashion way of walking around them, occasionally ducking below crates that unicorn students held aloft in their spell fields.
For how organized everything was in this classroom, it proved more difficult for me to find what I wanted than I would have liked. On top of that, the crates for robotic parts were nearly scavenged into oblivion, with me only being able to appropriate a flash drive shaped device that acted as a voice modulator slash vocalizer, a leg that would need to be connected to a power source, a set of mechanical teeth that could easily be keyed to synchronize its movements to the vocalizer, and a main body in the shape of an equine that was compatible with the leg.
I brought the bountiful batch of wiry parts back to the table that Ardent and I were sharing, the former was still busy with ensuring that the bolts were properly anchoring the mantlet and its supporting wheels together. Since he hadn’t finalized fastening the parts connecting the metal shield to both legs, I decided to input my opinion regarding his current design’s state of efficiency.
“It might not be exclusively historically accurate to suggest this, but the mantlet could do with having the shield portion not facing its opposition flat on” I initiated a new conversation, setting the robotic parts down on my half of the table.
“Hmm…?” He spoke up, coming out of a toiling mindset for discussion, “Why is that?”
“Mantlets work best when the projectiles they’re supposed to block against strike them at an angle, rather than head on. Why not try rotating the shield back a little in its moorings?” I advised, doing a bang up job of sounding like I was in on an erudite secret that he could benefit from.
“But then I would have to rework the viewing slits to sit lower on the shield. And that would take more time than it might be worth, I may as well just toss out the old shield and begin anew!” He countered, none the less he seemed concerned that I knew something about his mantlet that he himself hadn’t thought of to start with.
“You should just rework the shield design altogether” I concurred with one of his points, “If you angle it sixty degrees precisely, you effectively double the amount of armor that a projectile would have to go through in order to penetrate. You could even save on weight by making the metal sheet thinner in those sloped places. Craft out the new shield in three segments, the angled upper portion, a rounded middle bumper, and a flattish lower glacis” I perorated at length.
I reached for Ardent’s notebook, and indicated towards it with a finger-hoof, pending approval from Ardent, who granted it with a bob of his head. I tore out a sheet of paper and took his pencil to quickly graph the layout for the new mantlet design, being extra careful to include the same joints for the wheel legs to be bolted onto. Once I was finished, I held it out to Ardent for his viewing pleasure. I was no artist, but my muscle memory based magic improved my ability to faithfully write down mental images by hand immensely. The optimal thing about that kind of magic was with enough usage over time, it would no longer be mandatory to engage it so I could receive the same results. In fact, one of the reasons I was not that worried about winning my Tantō back the licit way was because I already had the skills necessary to dominate any concert stage I came across. The real challenge would be imparting that same quality upon others. I couldn’t be a one man band after all… not without getting really involved with my telekinetic spells anyway, doing so and upholding my disguise would be quite simply not worth it. Not to mention damn near close to impossible for a Trifect just coming into his potential to do breathtaking things.
“Not the greatest artistic depiction, if you ask me” Ardent murmured after a few seconds of mulling over the redesign, prompting an eye roll from me, “But I can tell from this that you have a good mind for this sort of thing, Zenith” He praised me.
“Germane engineering, baby. können wir große rüstungen machen” I winked at him, getting a laugh out of the big lug at my use of a foreign tongue to boast.
“You’re a foreign student!?” He exclaimed, taken aback by this, “Your Equish is incredible! I would assume that you must’ve spoken it your entire life to be so proficient with it today”
“I am, and I have” I admitted via enumeration, “I often think using that language as well, which is a sign of fluency” I shook my head, “However, this is irrelevant to the here and now. Tell you what, Ardent. If you go through with my idea, I’ll even help you assemble it!” I offered my assistance.
“That’s a mighty nice proposal of you to extend to me, Zenith. But what about you, and your own project? The due date is within a few days and we’ll need all the in class time we can get to finalize our work” Ardent expressed his concerns.
I waved it off dismissively, “I couldn’t even find half the parts I’d need to put it together. I figured I would wait until the crates are restocked before commencing on it myself. Besides, it’s smaller than what you’re doing… in size anyway” I kept quiet that what I was planning on making was much more ambitious than a maladroit mantlet.
He rubbed at the back of his head with a foreleg, humming in cogitation, “Hmm… It’s certainly a tempting design you’ve copied down, and your magic would be a big help with some of the more intricate parts” He planted all four hooves down on the linoleum as he made his decision, “All right! You’ve convinced me” He stuck out his hoof, though not for a bump like with earlier.
“This will be mutually satisfactory for the both of us” I guaranteed, taking care to avoid grasping Ardent’s hoof with my hand, alternatively bending my wrist to curl around his so we could shake on it.
My ulterior motive had been fulfilled with this gesture of collaboration. This slight ploy served as a means for getting chummy with Ardent to help with negotiating a collaboration of a very different breed while also allowing me to spend time with someone whose counterpart I fought a feral snow dragon alongside with. A person whose life I only got the briefest of insights into before fate pulled me away on a journey I was only just beginning to plumb the depths of. The secondary objective was accomplished throughout the duration of the class’s remaining time. We dismantled the first shield and rummaged around the workshop for sheets of iron to make the second version. Unlike with my robot components, flat slabs of metal were much easier to find, bend with a hydraulic presser, and fashion into segmented plates that we could weld together with blowtorches (Pony welding helmets were not made for the human skull in mind, so I had to expend some magic to polarize my vision and prevent myself from incurring photokeratitis or ‘arc eye’ while I held the welding tool away from me with my magic to avoid the particulate matter that ejected from heavy duty soldering. Ardent accepted the made up explanation that welding helmets made me feel claustrophobic and restricted my breathing without further pesky questions).
The normally reserved Ardent Bastion was rather talkative once I found the right topics to bring up, such as his fillyfriend (whom he felt he didn’t deserve and really heaped a lot of accolades on for her virtuousness), his cantankerous uncle (whom he lived with, since his parents were deceased by the time he was a foal), and his dedication to being both academically and athletically active. Most intriguing to me was that Ardent had some experience with playing an instrument himself, taking a diverse music appreciation class where he got to practice bass guitar while also hanging out with his fillyfriend (Who would take on the stage name of DJ Cry2tal Sh1ne. She apparently excelled at mixing it up with her ‘instrument’ the turntables). He also begrudgingly mentioned that he took it to hang out with Silver Sword, who dabbled in guitar and the keyboard synthesizer. I filed this tidbit of information away to be called upon later once I found enough ponies to form a band with. I now knew that both Silver and Ardent had the potential for helping me win my Tantō back (even if I could never envision their counterparts even knowing how to hold those instruments, let alone play them. Modern instruments were only imported to the Krystal Kingdom a short while ago in fact), but I would need to find a drummer or this plan would fall apart before it even got off the ground.
Ardent wanted to know more about me himself over the course of our conversation, and posed many specific questions about my background as a foreign born student and my experience of moving here, so I had to call upon my pragmatically deceitful nature to mold a story that would fit in with my yarn to Cadence. I went with the same tale that my family was immigrating to a new land and subsequently a new life. And that they were nervous about residing in a strange place and being surrounded by strange ponies that spoke another language not their own, had customs that were not their own, and overall had an almost alien culture that was not their own.
It wasn’t wholly deceptive though, as I only had to relate my grandparents’ own experiences when they migrated to America in order to make it believable (So many stories to draw upon there. I was essentially covered in that department). Besides… everyone knows that the most effective kind of lies are those mixed in with the truth. Just like his counterpart, Ardent was an exceptionally attentive listener, occasionally nodding and inserting his thoughts on what that must have been like for me while we multitasked on constructing the frame of his reworked medieval mantlet.
By the end of the class period, Ardent and I managed to meld together enough plates that the upper half of the mantlet shield was done and ready to be joined with the other two portions. The segmentation gave it a more… menacing air to it, but also that of durability. It was larger than the initial version as well, perhaps because I subconsciously felt that a pony sized mantlet was too puny to take seriously. One thing I didn’t count on was the amount of attention we were garnering from curious onlookers who wondered just what the heck we were putting together, mumbling amongst themselves about it either being a poor choice for a stringent grader like Peabody or how jealous they were that we were making such expeditious progress while they lagged behind. Ardent might not have minded the extra eyes on us, but it put an unnecessary strain on my perception filter, so I shooed them off with a withering glare, my naturally piercing eyes were only reinforced by the emotionless mask reflected on my ponygänger’s face, and our audience wisely backed off to tend to their own business.
Ardent and I cordially parted ways once the bell rang, leaving our stuff behind at the worktables, which acted as assigned seating and doubled as storage slots. I rematerialized my saddle-schoolbags when no one was looking and egressed out of the workshop’s confines. Pouring out into the hallways, the students of CCHS became a crowd of sparkling colors as they meshed into one indistinguishable mass. I had to get a little pushy just so I could refer to the directory without being swept away by the flow of traffic. I always hated that about my high school experience, and this was just reopening old wounds to toss salt in the tear.
My griping about bitter pet peeves aside, my culinary arts class was adjacent to the main cafeteria of the school, presumably because it made use of the same facilities such as ovens, stovetops, and etcetera. The class was already three quarters of the way full by the time I got there, and I observed that the vast majority of the students taking the course were overwhelmingly female, and that the two males I could see who were present weren’t the most masculine looking of stallions.
‘Again with the kitchen stereotypes? Last time I checked, the prestigious position of Chef was traditionally a male role’ I wasn’t sure what it was about this that got me so steamed up, but to me the kitchen should be an androgynous learning environment. Seeing so many mares outnumbering the guys made me feel as if I was in for a less than epic mealtime.
I approached the desk of the hefty instructor, a white furred and black spotted heifer named after a flower with big, blue irises, and introduced myself, “Good morning, ma’am, I’m Zenith”
“Why hello there!” She happily greeted me with an unmistakably Midwestern accent, “Are you the new student I was recently told would be joining our herd today?” Her high pitched voice inquired.
My right eye twitched at the second to last word, “Sure am” Was my clipped response, fighting the urge to slap myself on the face and clear up my aggravation.
If Daisy noticed my vexation, she refrained from making any comment on it, “Well… that’s wonderful, dearie. Come!” She beckoned me closer before whispering, “I’m going to assign you to work with some colts your age so you can acquaint yourself with your peers more comfortably. I know it can mortifying enough when you’re brave enough to be one of four other colts in the class, don’t cha know?” She winked at me. Man, her accent was thick.
I nodded in fake gratitude, “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate you looking out for my interests”
She swatted at the air with a cloven hoof, “Think nothing of it, dearie” She then clapped them together excitedly, “You have some fine timing, Zenith. Today we’re going to be making something gourmet! Sweetbread à la Neighstou!” She was positively quaking with joy. And while I absolutely hated her accent, she was the kind of instructor whose passion for teaching was admirable enough to let me overlook that.
“Sounds tasty” I said, imagining what that would look like.
‘Isn’t sweetbread the gland of an animal?’ I thought in confusion. How in the worlds did they make that here?
I took my seat at one of the tables, dispelled my illusory schoolbags, and forwent the niceties of conversing with the other colts, who were too absorbed with their debate over the finer points of Weremare versus Vampstallion to listen to anything I had to say anyway. The door to the class swung open and in pranced the familiar orangey shape of Piercing Arrow, who whipped his head back to dramatically displace his mane while smiling toothily to the class at large like a member of royalty had just arrived. I could practically hear the collective eye roll his exaggerated actions earned him as the rest of the class cumulatively ignored him. He frowned at the lack of recognition, and made like he was going to say something, but the teacher caught his attention first.
“Remember, Piercing Arrow. No more funny business with the mares that has no place in the classroom or this school, m’kay?” Daisy dictated in an abnormally serious voice, “Be courteous to your fellow students and behave” She placed extra emphasis on the latter half of the command.
“Don’t you worry about me, Miss Daisy. I’ll be a perfectly model example of an exemplary student” Pierce assured her with a mildly condescending tone before he spotted me. He reacted with surprise as his ears shot upwards and his eyes widened, before he broke out into a wide grin and took the open seat right next to me without invitation. I wasn’t sure whether to feel annoyed or flattered that he wanted to speak to me as much as I secretly needed to speak with him.
“Hey, hey! If it isn’t that lanky looking new guy I saw awaiting the wrath of the Principal! What are you doing here in this drag of a course?” He pondered aloud, before hijacking the rest of the one sided discourse, “Don’t tell me it’s to rub elbows with the ladies like I do! Trust me, half of ‘em are too uptight to give somepony like me the time of day, let alone their phone number. Though you’re obviously an out of towner, so maybe some of the less prudish fillies will find you interesting enough”
He craned his neck to the side, “Say…Can you do a comrade colt a solid and share any contact information you score with me?” He sleazily requested of me, laying a foreleg around my illusion’s shoulder and upping the energy drain on my spell. His behavior made me wonder if his counterpart was this desperate for some female company. Given how loose lipped and luckless with love Pierce drunkenly confessed he could be after imbibing with him at the Gemmed Tankard, I couldn’t help but assume it to be so.
“You… have me grievously mistaken, pal” I echoed his designation to me from earlier, “Flirting with the mares is an activity that one does outside of school campus, and not even then should one be so frank with it” I brushed off his foreleg with the dual purposes of saving power and sending him the message that we were not buddy-buddy yet.
My reaction caused him to scowl, “Geez… you’re just as tight-flanked as everypony else in this establishment. Why… I’d bet that if the whole lot of you were to sit on a lump of coal, you’d spit out a diamond!” He denigrated me, comparing me to everyone else who reasonably shut him down for being an overbearing ass.
I scoffed at the funny mental image his suggestion conjured up, “That’s not anatomically or fundamentally possible, but I’m glad that constant rejection by the fairer sex hasn’t addled your sense of humor” I riposted.
He grinned a bit, this bantering trade of barbs being more to his liking, “Just you and those scornful mares wait… one of these days I’m going to be somepony important. And all those years of spurning poor old Piercy will come back to bite them in their fat flanks!” He declared with confidence.
I stared long and scrupulously at him. This guy had a serious case of insecurity issues, which was probably why he was seeking attention so badly. But the self inflated way he was going about it was just having the opposite reception. I would have to break this to him slowly and with care, in case his was the fragile sort of insecure. This train of thought brought me back to my own experiences struggling with negative attention, at least until I determined for myself that I couldn’t care less what other people opined about me behind my back instead of to my face. Still, I wish that I had someone who didn’t judge me for being ruggedly individualistic like that, in that bygone era when I was in high school. But alas, being a loner by nature had its drawbacks, and a deficiency of moral support was one of them.
I was dubious to his statement, “And how do you intend to go about accomplishing this goal of justly deserved recognition?” I questioned, enacting step one of Pierce’s social reformation.
“W-what?” Pierce stuttered in bewilderment, evidently having never been asked that before, “I-I uh… I dunno. Wait! I’ll dominate the scoreboards at the next archery championship this week” He sank back in his chair and rubbed a foreleg abashedly against the other, “I’ve gotten a bit lax in my standards lately, so my aim wasn’t right on target for the last one. But I’ve gotten my rear in gear, so that shouldn’t happen again!”
My noggin swayed from side to side, “It’s not me you need to convince” I rotated a hand in the general area around us, “It’s them. I’m rooting for you if you intend to prove yourself to the student body… but it blooms at the individual level initially, like the first grain of sand in an hourglass that soon becomes a sand hill” I waxed poetic.
I poked him in his chest with a closed fist, “Lose the braggadocio and be more tactful. Mares don’t want to just hear how physically attractive they are… at least not in the blunt way that you describe it to their faces” I amended.
“And what do you suggest I do then, oh wise Casanova?” He snidely countered.
“Okay first off, I’m of Germane heritage… not Istallion. Secondly, what you should be… is genuine when interacting with the ladies. Perhaps eventually one of them will take an interest in the real Piercing Arrow, and not this… false screen that you’ve been putting up” I indicated with a twirl of a finger in his direction, which translated gauchely as a hoof from the ponygänger. I couldn’t fault my disguise for doing its job, but the body language of sentient equines just didn’t sit right with me.
“Huh… Silver Sword said something similar to me once. He also sucker punched me in the barrel… but I maybe… sorta deserved it” He conceded.
“You know Silver Sword?” I feigned shock.
“Sure do!” He chirped, “I see him at the recreation center almost every weekend training with all sorts of dueling swords. He and I struck up a friendship on the common ground of being sports oriented. We would both practice our respective sports to improve the overall skill we could contribute to our teams, and talk to each other during water breaks”
“So what did you do to get him to sucker punch you?” I prodded him to spill the beans.
His brow creased at how prying I was, “I may have… attempted to put the moves on a potential fillyfriend of his once when incidentally running into him at the mall” He divulged.
“I sense that there is more to this sordid tale of degeneracy” I observed in a sage like tone, like a wiseass too.
He looked away from me, “And I may have also… scared her off while consequentially making an idiotic impression of both myself and Silver. She never did speak to either of us again, a-and it took Silver a full month to acknowledge me as a friend again” He croaked, audibly choking up at his mistake.
My jaw fell, “Dude… you cock-blocked Silver Sword on his date? That’s in strict violation of the Bro Code of Bro-ethics!” I reprimanded him sternly, despite not having studied the bro code devoutly enough to make such a claim with authority. I assume that’s something bros would chastise though.
He recoiled, very much ashamed of himself, “In my defense, I didn’t know that they were palling around! Or that wet floor signs meant business even when the surface looks dry! How was I supposed to predict that one minor misstep would lead to her finding us in a compromising position and questioning both of our orientations?” His cheeks lit up a bright red that contrasted nicely with his orange coat. Damn, these ponies were hyper expressive!
I fit the clues together and winced, ‘Yikes… that would be extremely embarrassing’
“I tried to repair the mess I made by assuring her that I was irrevocably into mares… but all that did was earn me a slap on the cheek and a face full of pepper spray” His eyelids tensed as he squinted at the painful memory, “My eyes were on fire for hours afterwards… but at least I haven’t a single restraining order to my name yet!” He asserted with a groan, remaining cautiously optimistic, which I could respect. I was going to have to dock him some points for that last conditional, however.
The shrill screech of the bell signaling the start of class interrupted our tête-à-tête and we had to be quiet so that we wouldn’t get into trouble with Miss Daisy, who took to the floor in front of a blackboard to begin her lecture. Her udders jiggled with every step the well fed cow took, and I found myself oddly compelled by their hypnotizing movements. I shook myself out of it though, resolving to take an ice cold shower later.
“Alrighty students! I wish that your Monday morning has been as delightful as mine has so far. Last week I mentioned to you all that we were going to be crafting something different from the haycakes and peppered oat patties that we’ve been doing so far. Do any of you remember what that is?”
She called upon one student who had raised her hoof first, “Yes, Black Boron?”
“Sweetbread!” The pitch colored student answered.
“That’s correct!” Daisy beamed, “But not just any sweetbread. We’re making Sweetbread à la Neighstou! You remember Neighstou from our textbooks, oui? Owner and proprietor of one of the most prestigious restaurants in all of Mareis? And of a relatively mediocre commercial food brand on the side” She included with markedly less exuberance, “Paying the rent on that Prench plot of property can’t be cheap don’t cha know?”
“And it sells microwavable burritos! Millions and millions of burritos!” Interjected another filly for the sake of being a contrarian comedian.
“I’m well aware of the profits Chef Neighstou makes at the sacrifice of food quality” Daisy waggishly responded, “But here in this culinary arts classroom we must each of us strive to at least reach the level of cuisine that rises above the caliber of common cardboard carted cookery. A good Chef knows how to produce dishes that has their customers crawling back for more. But don’t take my word for it!” She opened a closet door and yanked out a projector hidden within by using her teeth (‘I really hope they at least sanitize what they drool over later’), “Let’s listen to the divine wisdom of one of the greatest Chefs of our age!”
After pulling a projector screen down using a hooked stick that she also was required to grip with her teeth, Miss Daisy gave the projector a good whack with her hindleg and the film reel began rolling. The olden machine projected its light onto the screen and expanded, revealing a sepia toned countdown sequence with numbers commencing at three. Much like the film projectors in Arcania, this machine had speakers built into its casing that emitted a crisp yet resonant vibration of air molecules that most professional surround sound selling companies would be envious of. Even in an entire world apart, I could never escape the mind boggling anachronisms that pestered me with their sheer haphazardness.
The countdown expired and after a short flowery speech about the time honored tradition of cooking by a narrator, it launched into Neighstou’s self success story from his origins as an unassuming busser to the head of an immensely popular gourmet restaurant. It was told mainly from the viewpoint of the portly Chef himself, via interviewing scenes between Neighstou and a mare asking him questions in regards to his meteoric claim to fame and how few hooves he had to step upon in order to get there. He was unnaturally large and jovial for an Earth pony, and not in a way that connoted unending strength. I dare say that he would even put Miss Daisy to shame had he been standing next to her in real life, a fact that Piercing Arrow was not above joking to me with a whisper and prompting an unbidden chuckle out of the depths of my gut.
“Pay attention please, Zenith. And tone down on the speaking while the video is playing, Arrow” Daisy lightly scolded us from behind, effectively shutting the both of us up.
When the video was concluded, Daisy vacated the spot she was looming over us from and addressed the class, “With that inspirational spiel in mind, let’s get to cooking!”
From there each table of students went to their assigned stations, where all of the materials were set up for us. Pots, pans, cutlery, and silverware were all in their designated drawers and cabinets (I would need to stoop a tad to reach inside them and take what we needed. Though I could just delegate it to someone else as there were four of us). On an angled book holder located in a nonessential cooking free spot was our tome of recipes. Upon vocal cueing from the instructor, we flipped open the cover and skimmed the pages until we had reached the right number. I read aloud from the ingredients list since my ‘adoptive compatriots’ were unwilling to take the lead. I resisted the urge to make a derisive remark about their masculinity, but held off long enough to stay focused on our task.
“Sweetbread à la Neighstou, an exotic dish that its creator spontaneously invented after a trip to the equally exotic island of Boarneo” I said as my eyes scanned the column below, “Each portion requires three shoots of asparagus, a splash of Dog rose purée, one geoduck egg, a sprinkle of diced dried white fungus, the sweetbread itself and…” My eyebrows furrowed in dismay, “…anchovy licorice sauce? That’s disgusting!”
“I’ll say!” Agreed one of the two colts whose names they had never bothered to tell me, “I literally cannot stomach anything that’s fish based or I’ll spray chunks all over the place”
Daisy overheard this and input her advice, “One of the marks of an aspiring Chef is improvising when the situation calls for it… create another sauce to dress it with!” She advised. With her peace said, she wandered off to observe the other teams who already had a decent head start on us.
“Well… what do you guys think? White Marinara… or red?” I polled my kitchen teammates.
“I’ll be honest with you here, Zenith. I only took this course so I could eat and flirt to my heart’s content” Pierce came clean about his culinary usefulness aloud.
“Same”
“Ditto”
The other two mirrored his standpoint, it seemed. I planted a palm against my face and sighed deeply. The sooner I got my hands on my Tantō again, the better the chances I could leave this corner of the multiverse without strangling some poor sod to alleviate my mounting frustration.
“Whatever” I groaned, “I’ve got plenty of cooking experience. I’ll bear the brunt of the workload this time, I guess. You guys can just… pretend that you’re not freeloading entirely by gathering the listed ingredients for me. I’ll prepare the sauces and solid aliments” I took command of my little kitchen troop, which they accepted without hesitation.
“Righty-O!”
“You’re the boss, pal!”
“Remember… no anchovies” The colt warned me with a nicker, making an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture with his hoof.
The remainder of my culinary arts class was nothing special. I followed the instructions on the recipe cookbook to the letter, with me only needing to improvise between picking a marinara or going with a truffle oil that accentuated the other flavors instead of strong arming your taste buds with its own. Like with Ardent, I got plenty of opportunities to learn about Piercing Arrow while our food was being prepared, though I never took my eyes away from what I was doing, especially while holding a knife. The sweetbread ingredient wasn’t meat like I had originally suspected, but was some kind of tofu-esque substitute that tasted like meat, but was bereft of having the origin of a living creature without roots in the earth. For once I didn’t care that my food lacked meat, after expending so much magic in such a short period and straining my body in metaphysical ways, I was hungry enough that it didn’t make a noticeable difference to me. So my inner carnivore was suppressed at the moment, albeit I vowed that I would chow down on a nice, juicy steak as soon as I got back to Arcania, and I wasn’t just saying that because Miss Daisy’s plumpness looked especially appetizing (What kind of overly sensitive bleeding heart do you take me for? Just because I met a free thinking cow with scarily mesmerizing udders, doesn’t mean I’ll stop loving scrumptious beef altogether).
Before we could sit down and enjoy the fruits of my labor however, Miss Daisy appraised each of the teams’ works and verbally pointed out what was wrong with the dish or what needed improvement for next time. To the relief of my fellow teammates, my mostly unknown talents with meal preparation availed us, and our dish was given one of the higher ratings, much to the surprise of many of the mares present. From their chattering gossip, they expressed how a team comprised solely of boys rarely if ever scored that well on a moderately challenging dish, and it didn’t take them long to attribute this success to the new arrival. I quickly became rather uncomfortable with some of the admiring gazes I was receiving from the ladies, and worried that Piercing Arrow would become jealous for being even more ignored in favor of myself. To my soothed nerves, Piercing made no comment about it, nor did his expressive countenance betray his thoughts, which pretty much meant that he thought nothing of it.
“Hey Pierce?” I spoke up in between bites of tangy sweetbread.
“Hmm…?” He replied with his mouth full. He chewed and swallowed, “What is it, pal?” He smiled at me, gladdened that he didn’t have to do any work whatsoever, or maybe he enjoyed my company. I needed to reevaluate my worldview, I should only be cynical with due reason to suspect others of treachery.
‘These ponies… so swift are they to declare friendship and mean it’ I mused, though unsurprisingly, the Arcanians I knew shared this same aspect.
It was the moment of truth for me, if Pierce was devoid of drumming talent, I would be forced to resort to locating and stealing my Tantō unlawfully. While I was willing to do many things that strayed into a moral gray zone to meet my objectives, I preferred a light sided alignment.
“Do you by chance have any kind of rock band experience?”
His pupils changed size and he nearly choked on his next bite, “Are you kidding me!? I’m huge on rock! Yeah I’ve got experience!” He exclaimed.
I nearly exhaled in consoled contentment, “Really…” I breathed in suspense, “What kind of instrument do you specialize in, perchance?”
‘Oh please be drums, please be drums, please be drums’ I supplicated my mantra to a higher power.
Pierce took the silverware he somehow was gripping in his hooves and proceeded to bang them on an imaginary drum set, vocalizing beats as he did so. It took a great degree of effort not to jump out of my seat and heel-click, but I ascetically managed to repress the ‘improper impulse to soil one’s reputation’ as Rarity often referred to it. Speaking of which, I’ll never understand how women like her could complain about dirt on multiple occasions and yet partake in mud baths at the spa without issue. Female logic… the only mystery I don’t want to solve.
“Ever since I heard the announcement over the intercom, I’ve been wanting to form a band so I could participate and be seen in that Battle of the Bands event this Friday for weeks now. But I only know that Silver Sword has some background foundation with guitar and synth board… and I can’t recall anypony with strong bass skills that isn’t already in a band of their own” Pierce explained, desiring to do something other than archery to get recognized, “Are you the pony for that job?”
“No, I’m familiar with both electric and acoustic guitar with some piano on the side” I leaned towards him and whispered, “Look, I know a guy who could potentially fulfill that role for us, provided I can mend the fractured relationship that he has with Silver Sword”
“You’re talking about Ardent Bastion aren’t you?” Pierce correctly deduced, “I know him as well, aaannnd lets just say that he doesn’t care much for me and leave it at that”
I leveled him an unamused half lidded stare, “Let me guess… a bad encounter with his fillyfriend?”
He gave me a stiff nod in confirmation, “A very bad encounter” He concurred.
“Scheiße!” I mutedly cursed, “That makes two relationships I need to superglue back together. This day keeps getting better and better” I bitterly bemoaned my rotten, nonexistent luck.
“Sorry for being such a monumental screw up, pal” Pierce remarked sarcastically, not appreciating the vote of no confidence.
“It’s not a big deal” I said placatingly, “We just need to collaborate with Silver so that you can both make peace with Ardent, put the past behind you, and look toward the future as friends. I just need to think of how we can go about doing that” I massaged by temples as I ran through several ideas and rated their feasibility. I suddenly snapped my fingers, before realizing that I should not have done so.
“What was that snapping noise?” Pierce asked me, his ears swiveling like mad to pinpoint where it came from.
I brushed his inquiry aside, “Never you mind. I’ve thought of what we can do to get both you and Silver back on Ardent’s good graces”
Pierce gave up on locating the source of the noise to reply, “Oh yeah? What do you got?”
“Gifts” Was my monosyllabic answer.
I interrupted him before he could open his mouth and attempt to poke holes in the plan, “Hear me out before getting testy!” I implored him before he could protest, “Think about it. Gifts are always given out as tokens of apology and or propitiatory gestures. You and Silver can make nice with Ardent by verbally apologizing and then guaranteeing that your words are authentic with a conveniently misdirecting present! Ardent would have to compromise his sacred sense of honor if he refused to acknowledge such ‘conviction’ on both of your parts, and he doesn’t strike me as the type to do so” I explicated, covering both the means and the possible roadblock.
His shoulders sagged, “I suppose that could work, but I’m not the gift bearing type, and I wouldn’t know what to get the trundling lug even if I was. All he ever talks about whenever I see him around is how wonderful his fillyfriend is to him” Pierce snorted, “That’s total Minotaur crap, by the way. She was even harsher to me than Silver’s mace happy mall date! I mean… bucking me in the stallionhood? That was literally a low blow” He clopped a hoof against the table indignantly.
“You have my profound sympathies for your damaged goodies, Pierce, and I want to make it right somehow” I commiserated, “So don’t worry about getting the gift yourself. You just need to suggest a couple things that Ardent would appreciate and get him to hop on board with us”
“Oh…” Pierce held a hoof against his chin as he cogitated, “Well… he once told me that his bass guitar could do with some replacement, but the replacement he had in mind, a Bohoovian I believe, would set him back a few hundred bucks… which no parent in their right mind would just fork out to their foal, let alone Ardent’s stingy, sheep shearer of an uncle”
“Anything else?” I pressed him for further details, “That’s only one idea for a gift” I reminded him.
“With how frequently he speaks of his fillyfriend, we could make some kind of necklace for her to wear, with her namesake as the centerpiece! Mares dig that, right? Besides, the gemstones for that are really inexpensive and available at any jewelers. We could both pony up to pay for it” He generously offered to chip in.
“I can handle the monetary expenses myself” I stood firm as I settled the matter, a hand migrating subconsciously to my munny pouch while a devious idea formed in my head, “Say… do you know what the value of gold is going for on the market today?” I inquired of him, banking on a single fact that my modern home must have shared with this one.
Pierce shrugged indifferently, “I haven’t a clue… it’s likely a lot of bucks though. I’m always hearing on the Tele about the value of anything golden consistently skyrocketing in the past year itself”
‘If that’s true, then I’ve got some coins that ought to fetch a good price at a local pawnshop. I’ll need to fabricate an explanation for how I got them however’
“Then we should be substantially subsidized on that front” I leaned back in my chair.
“Oh ho ho!” The colt chortled, “You’re from one of those wealthy, well to do families aren’t you? Tell me you’re pulling my leg!” Pierce balked, unbelieving as to how cocksure I was about what I was implying.
“Not as spoiled as you think, but I’m not exactly strapped for cash (‘Disregarding the here and now’). Anyhow, if all of this does work and we put the band together… do you mind if I choose the name we take the stage with?” I pleaded with the puppy dog eyes, which were even more effective when they took up more than a third of your facial features.
“Only if it works…” He echoingly stipulated, “Otherwise we pressgang somepony else with a bass to join us and go on with the title ‘The Sexy Bastards’ alright?” He grinned to me, in addition to flashing me his well maintained teeth. I couldn’t believe that the fillies would find him physically unattractive, with the slim toned and lithe form he was in. It was that obnoxious demeanor of his that seemed to be his only real fault as a person and as a pony.
“Fair enough…” I agreed to the terms, “…but ‘The Star Cabal’ is more to my tastes” I pettily sniped as we went back to eating our vegetarian friendly food.
The culinary arts class ended with the ring of a bell and the cycle of relocation began anew. Pierce and I solidified our agreement to join the Battle of the Bands event with a mutual spit laced hoof shake, which I immediately washed off in one of the kitchen sinks after. He laughed at my antics, joked about my squeamishness, and galloped off to PE class after promising to stay in touch. I contemplatively watched him go. He was still the same old Piercy, except that he was younger in this incarnation and played the drums despite the physical handicap that his flat grip of his hooves should have afforded him. I guess physics was even more of a suggestion here than it was back in Arcania!
My latest class was acting in the school theater chamber, and it was there that I finally figured out why the instructor was named Ham. Like his name on the schedule should have more overtly implied, the mustard yellow, goatee sporting (facial hair on top of facial hair. I have so many questions!) stallion was hammy as all get-out, randomly changing vocal pitches and accents at the drop of a hat, quoting plays and passages from satires whenever he considered it apt, and dressing up in a mishmash of clothes that would have Discord weep tears of ecstasy and Rarity weep tears of blood had they seen his chaotic ensemble. I was in for a pleasant bolt from the blue however, as Silver Sword shared this class period with me.
“Silver Sword!” I greeted him, sitting down in the pillowed cushion next to his, “Fancy seeing you here”
“Sup Zenith?” He returned the greeting, keeping his gaze fixed ahead of him like a smart student.
“I delivered your message to Ardent. He… remains stubborn about his position towards you” I suspired with fake disappointment, “Sorry”
He laid a hoof on my ‘shoulder’ forgivingly, “You did as I requested, and for that I will never hold it against you. He and I spoke during the previous interclass period” He apprised me of the situation, “He wants me to prove that I meant what I said, not with words, but with actions”
I hummed thoughtfully, “This is beneficial news then. I’ve worked out a plan with an acquaintance of yours to reconcile your standing with him”
He broke his gaze away from the instructor’s monologue, “Acquaintance?” He uttered in befuddlement.
My eyes flicked from side to side, “Piercing Arrow…?” I ventured a guess, worried that Pierce may have lied to me about his relationship to the fencing colt.
“Oh…” He made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, “…him. Pierce is more to me than a mere acquaintance, Zenith. He’s a friend, like you. Granted, he’s a bit of a blockhead when it comes to socially accepted standards, but he’s a good guy to have at your back. Even if the best kind of support he can lend is better kept at a distance” He chuckled, wittily tying in the archer’s skills with a bow into his figurative language.
“You need to apologize to more than just Ardent, Silver” I declared, like it was a simple statement of fact.
Silver instantly looked away shamefacedly the moment I brought that up, “He told you about that too huh?”
I continued, “I don’t know what possessed you to badmouth his ladyfriend that way, but it was a major slip up that you need to rectify sooner rather than later” I recommended to him.
“I know, Zenith. I know… it’s just-… I’m stumped as to how I’m going to do that. I know Ardent well enough that I can appeal to his desire to keep ourselves on minimally cordial terms with each other, but his fillyfriend?” He shook his head, “I have no idea how to navigate that mine field… one wrong step, stallion… one misstep and I’m toast”
“Luckily, I have a plan for buttering the two of them up so you can reach an accord” I rubbed my thumb against my first two fingers, even though Silver couldn’t see it and my ponygänger just made this weird trembling motion with its hoof, “It starts with m and rhymes with honey”
Silver’s forehead creased as he effortlessly determined the rhyming word, “You want me to bribe them with cash?” He was incredulous, visibly opposed to that idea.
“No…! Well, kind of” I conceded, “But I realistically want you to initiate a tribute of sorts, as a token gesture of penitence you se-”
“Ahem!” A stern voice cut into our discourse, “Are you two gentlecolts quite finished?” Mister Ham rhetorically asked us from his pulpit on the platform, narrowing his eyes at us.
We both muttered an apology and remained quiet, “Wait one cotton pickin’ secon’!” Mister Ham shouted in an outrageously southern accent that even Applejack would cringe upon hearing, “Are you the Germane pony I was told would be gracing us with his presence?”
“What gave it away?” I snarked, letting my regard for authority wane.
“You’ve yet to take on the natural coloration of a Crystal City inhabitant, which suggests to me that you’re fresh off the plane” Mister Ham obliged me anyway, “I must say… your Equish is leagues ahead of any native speaker’s I’ve ever heard. Say something Germane for the class!”
I was more than happy to, “Deine Mutter ist ein Hamster und Ihr Vater roch nach Holunderbeeren!” I gutturally insulted his lineage, though not so badly that he would punish me if he happened to know his German.
“Fascinating…” Ham fawned over me, ignorantly unaware, “Tell me true… what is your favorite historical composer of classical art?”
“Beethooven” I answered automatically.
“Everypony with a single cultured bone in their bodies loves him” Mister Ham retorted in a flat tone that was similar to my own. He was either subtly mocking me, or that may have been his real voice, “What other composers catch your ear beyond the blatantly obvious?”
“Well… I do enjoy listening to some of the piano pieces composed by Marezart, in addition to the motif centered works of Haydn” I listed from my actual musical preference, risking what I thought the ponified names were.
“My my… aren’t you a veritable Reneighssance Stallion?” Mister Ham spoke admiringly, even though I wanted to roll my eyes with how horrific the puns were getting.
“I try” I shrugged apathetically.
“And since you’re so capable… you surely won’t mind demonstrating for the rest of us how you’d market one of any products I have in the back with some pizazz” He made it clear that he was not giving me much of a choice; and the crooning way he placed emphasis on that last word was downright creepy.
“I’m game” I accepted his challenge as I got up from my seat and hopped onto the stage, to the collective, curious murmuring of the theater room’s inhabitants. I had no fear for this. One skill I knew I possessed in spades was acting whenever the situation demanded it. Hell’s bells, I was doing it right now.
Mister Ham ushered me backstage where a large dressing room combined with a prop station was located. Next to a rack of myriad clothing that included diaphanous fabric was a long table with random objects lined up side by side. Blenders, computer monitors, and even a rubber chicken were part of the supply.
The wacky teacher thumped a hoof on the table to grab my attention, “Pick one of these objects and think of how you’d find a catchy way to market it. You’re free to use whatever else is in this room to support your pitch. Your grade for the week will depend on how impressed I am by the presentation”
I nodded in understanding before I set about sifting through the contents on the table for something that fit in with my ‘marketing’ style. I threw aside the rubber chicken in favor of a tall glass with a wide brim that was shaped like a boot. Smiling to myself, I raided the clothing racks to find an outfit for my ponygänger to temporarily don. Even if it would add an unwanted drain on my magic (which was dipping again, to my dismay), I wanted my presentation to have the maximum impact on its audience. Scrounging up some worthy articles of clothing, I slipped them on the hard light projections of my ‘body’ with my hands. There was a staff container filled with drinks that I appropriated from a fridge and set down on the floor by the item table. Rifling through the box, I pulled out some soda bottles with light brown colored fluid in them (‘Pepneigh and Colta Cola? No… just no!’) and even another can of that mixed blessing Red Pegasus, which I refrained from drinking until the time was right.
“Do you mind if there’s music during the presentation?” I inquired of my eccentric teacher, who was watching my actions from his locality by the curtain with silent bemusement.
“If you know a spell that will permit it, then I’ll welcome that! Fitting music makes everything easier to swallow, don’t you agree?” His lips curled in wry amusement, “Are you almost ready to go?”
I pulled out a pair of hipster like, shutter shades and placed them on my illusion’s muzzle, “I am ready, instructor Ham” I announced, carrying my materials in my magic. I was decked out in lederhosen and wearing an alpine hat with a feather stiched into it. It was brazenly offensive and very much stereotypical, but that was kind of the point.
“Atta boy, get out there and knock ‘em dead! Just… not in the bad way, alright?” Without warning, he pulled at a curtain rope with his teeth (‘Again, yuck’) and the velvety material fell away, unveiling me from the theater class’s eyes.
Thinking fast, I conjured my sound sphere and had it play a peppy tune on repeat that I heard on the Internet once and never forgot. Pulling up a tray from the back, with a burst of magic, I opened it and set it down in front of me like I was about to place a top hat on it and pull out Angel bunny (Not that I reckon he would appreciate that). Popping a bottle of pop, I poured the fluid held inside into an ordinary looking glass, before glaring at it in boredom and tossing it into a garbage can on the far side of the room.
“I drink ze beer from ze glass, but das boring” I yawned into a fist before holding up the boot shaped glass, “Das Boot?” I smiled like a Cheshire Cat that had just caught a München Mouse, “Ooo ja. That’s more like it, keep pouring” I filled it to the top and magicked it so it would froth and become nice and foamy, “I have ze Germane accent, so of course I love beer” I shrugged like it was a foregone conclusion, “But how much can ze boot hold? Eins, Zwei, Drei? Eins, Zwei, Drei, Vier?” I flash copied ghostly images of the boot so that it would appear to multiply in accordance with the lyrics.
From there the sound sphere initiated a chorus that I proceeded to jive along to, spinning and dancing in tune with the beat, with my ponygänger joining in on the fun. With my peripherals, I evaluated the initial reception I was receiving from the class. Many of them were at a lost for words as their jaws scraped the floor, but the majority of them, mainly mares, were cheering and hooting in glee like it was the greatest thing they ever saw. Silver’s face was the funniest to look at though, his eyes twitching violently, gaping openly at what he was utterly trying and failing to comprehend. It made me laugh, and probably set of Pinkie’s sixth sense on the other side of the portal while I was at it.
I picked up the boot and held it out to the class, “I have ze beer and so I need a light snack” I conjured up another hard light projection and held it aloft, “A giant pretzel? Totally perfect, cheese goes nicely with that” A magical pitcher of melted cheese emptied onto the pretzel and much of my illusion’s muzzle as I pretended to eat it.
I noticed my poor state of cleanliness and pointed it out to the class, “Now I’m all dirty and tired and probably needs a shower” An illusory storm cloud appeared above me and drenched me with a sudden downpour of water, making me immaculate again. I stooped down, drank from the beer boot, and set it down on the stand before taking the Red Pegasus and refilling it with that, “Energy drinks should do, I just need more than five hours”
Gulping it down and feeling the rush of power it provided, I bounced about the stage with boundless energy instead of collapsing on the floor from a heart attack. I was moving so swiftly that I was reasonably sure there was a blurring effect attached to my limbs. I couldn’t recall the first can of Red Pegasus I drank doing that to me, but I supposed that I had attracted the attention of some causality determining entity that was both with me and against me at the same time. Once the chorus was done, I returned to the stand area and laid my head against it, resting it just above my arm-forelegs and fibbing being asleep until the very next line.
“I vake up early and I hunger for breakfast” I said, putting my shutter shades back on like a boss, “Butter milk pancakes, sausage, eggs, bacon sugar and cinnamon” I listed off, conjuring floating, semi-solid images of each aliment.
“And for lunch I vant ze wiener…” I deliberately and dramatically paused. Every mare in the audience gasped, and some of them even began tearing up, “…schnitzel. Ooo ja!” I winked at the visibly relieved females, strangely enjoying the amount of fun I was having with them. Screwing with these ponies was just too easy sometimes.
“Gotta have surf with my turf and vash it down with some butter. Then for dinner it’s simple, I always eat ze same thing. Sauerbraten, Goulash, Bratwurst, Spätzle, Hasenpfeffer, and Mayo” I conjured one last image of a cake and held it with my hands, “And to top it all off, I think zhis cake looks amazing. There’s just one thing I’d change, I think it goes without saying” I stuffed the fake cake into the empty beer boot and danced with it until I called for the sound sphere to shut down.
I closed my eyes and bowed to my audience, while my ponygänger dropped onto its two front knees. While the raucous reverberation of hooves being stomped against the floor as an equine form of applause gladdened me, inside I was more concerned about how much magic I had just burnt through in order to replicate the things I did during that presentation. I scratched at my temples as I remembered the warning on the Red Pegasus can about not drinking more than three servings per day. My brain was already feeling that faint pulsing sensation that preceded a hell of a migraine. I had to be careful with my magic expenditure, or all would be for naught.
“Bravo, bravo! You’ve successfully passed my test” Called out Mister Ham from my right as he came closer, “If it weren’t for the fact that I already own that beer boot, I would head out and buy one right away! Aren’t you a bit young to drink alcohol though?” He surmised, taking the boot and other items from my clutches to put in the back.
“Legal drinking age in Germaneigh is late teens… and that’s the only thing I really regret about moving here” I jested with a small grin, “May I take my seat again?” I took off the outfit and lobbed it backstage with my magic.
He frowned at how callous I was with his stage clothes, but made no criticisms, “Of course you may, though I haven’t the foggiest idea how anypony else is going to follow an act like that. You’ve set the bar pretty high for the rest of us, Zenith my lad” He called me by name as he disappeared behind the second curtain, even though I hadn’t shown him my schedule slip. Meh, he was probably informed via the services of Secretary Sassy.
I returned to Silver’s side, the dumbfounded colt staring at me like I had a second head… which I technically did, so that analogy falls short, “Now… where were we?” I attempted to resume our conversation where it had left off, idly watching Mister Ham call on the next sap to convince us to buy something using his or her marketable acting skills.
“How can you act so casually after blowing everypony’s mind like that!?” He exclaimed, “I knew I predicted that you’d be an interesting pony to get to know Zenith, but you have gone above and beyond my expectations in the last three minutes. You can sing. You can dance. And you can effortlessly adopt an expression that just screams to the world that the depths of your indifference heed no boundaries after doing both!” He pounded his right foreleg against his left as he enumerated his points.
“Swell of you to say” I dryly replied, “Seriously now, what was I telling you before Mister Ham shushed us?”
“I-…” He sighed in defeat, knowing how pointless it was to take this up with me, “I dunno… some plan with me presenting a gift to Strawberry Quartz so that Ardent won’t be as ticked off at me?”
“Right… are you feeling up to that?” I questioned his resolve.
“If it gets me my friendship with Ardent back, I’m down for anything. What kind of gift are we getting her?” He wanted to know, with resolution clear in his voice.
“As I told Pierce, I’ll handle the gift buying task, you just need to mentally prepare yourself for the gift giving part. Perhaps a pre-written apologetic speech would be optimal?” I helpfully suggested.
He dismissed it, “Nah, I’m more of a ‘in the moment’ type of guy. Why are we working with Pierce again?”
“He has to make amends with Ardent as well. He tried to unknowingly charm his fillyfriend and paid the price for it” I grimaced at the mental picture, “Think of a very sensitive area unique to us dudes getting brutalized by an irate female”
He chortled briefly, “Heh. Yeah, that sounds like the kind of trouble Pierce would get himself into all right. His arrow is far too straight for his own good!”
“That’s terrible” I gently chided him with a shaky voice for Pierce’s sake, “And you’re distracting me, so quit it! So I saw it fitting to notify you that Pierce and I additionally want to form up a band to participate in the Battle of the Bands event this Friday. We would like you to become our backup guitarist and primary keyboardist, if you’re willing” I officially extended an invitation to him.
“And Ardent plays the bass… so you need to get him onboard too” Silver deduced our ulterior motive, “Since I know that’s not the primary reason why Pierce is apologizing to Ardent, I’ll give it some thought. Are you going to be the frontcolt of this band?”
“Primary lyricist and lead guitar… you don’t need to have any reservations about the effectiveness of my station, I assure you” I patted my chest with confidence.
“Hmm…” He hummed before snorting and extruded a hoof, “What the hay. Count me in! It’s not like I have anything better to do this Friday anyhow”
I bumped his hoof with a fist, “Welcome to the proto form of the Star Cabal” I formally received him.
His eyebrows rose and his face contorted like he didn’t know what to make of that, “Is that the name we’re going with?”
“Yeah…?”
He bobbed his noggin, “It sounds… completely radical. As long as Pierce doesn’t insist on coming up with the title of our gathering, I won’t have any regrets joining this endeavor”
“Then you better ensure that your spontaneous apology speech to Strawberry is sweeter than maple syrup” I metaphorically forewarned him.
He crooked his neck laterally, “You’re not referring to that cute, bashful mare who always sits in the back of my econ class are you?”
“Wha? No! I meant the actual ‘drench your pancakes with’ maple syrup!” I muffled a shout in exasperation, pinching at the bridge of my nose. I despised this about societies that named their kids after syntactical devices. It made the recurrence of these incidences much more frequent than they should be.
“Heh. My apologies…” He rubbed at the base of the back of his neck where his spine was, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about her for the past two weeks now. I haven’t seen her in a relationship with anypony and she’s always so quiet, so I thought that I might approach her sometime and offer to get her a coffee… or something charming like that” He admitted sheepishly.
“Well if you work up the courage to tell her that, know that I’ll be there to support you, in spirit of course” I buoyed him up.
“Thanks Zenith” He smiled, “Are we still on for exploring the city later? I’ve got my own ride and license!” He proffered to me.
“If you’re willing to make a stop at a local pawnshop. I’d gladly accompany you for an afternoon out on the town” I gingerly accepted for certain.
“A pawnshop? Why would you want to see one of those places?” He asked in puzzlement, “They only have old dilapidated junk that nopony really cares about”
“I’ll ignore the wrongness of that statement. But do you remember how you had to spare me for that can of Red Pegasus earlier?” I levitated a golden bit out of my coin purse and showed it to Silver, “That’s because I haven’t converted this into bucks yet”
He whinnied in awed shock, “Holy Cow pie! Is that real gold!?”
“It better be. Otherwise I’m going to have a very long and unpleasant talk with my bank” I pseudo joked, being partially serious about that.
He snatched it out of the air and scrutinized it thoroughly, “Where’d the hay did you get this? Only the preppiest ponies at this school wear anything that has gold in it, but none of them carry it around in coins like this! A few of these coins would be worth thousands of bucks!” He blurted, holding onto the coin like it could dissipate at any moment.
“Keep it down, please” I requested as I plucked the coin out of his hooves and inserted it back in my pouch, “My family has a long standing tradition dating way back, where every colt receives an allotment of coins like these when he comes of age and becomes a stallion”
“It’s not like… birthday money, or anything like that?” Silver seemed convinced that I was some ultra rich kid. Was gold really worth that much around here?
“No Silver… its not. And even if we did have a boatload of these coins in our coffers, we absolutely abhor inspiring any kind of greed. In fact my family would likely frown on me for spending one of my coins like this unless I had no other choice” I explained to him, and realistically I didn’t have a plethora of choice here.
“What are you going to do with the money you get from pawning these coins?” He pried curiously.
“Purchase a new bass guitar for Pierce to give to Ardent, and a strawberry quartz necklace for you to give to his fillfriend. The ladies love a good gift, you know. Especially one given authentically” And maybe I would buy some other things for myself, discounting living necessities.
“Silver Sword! What are you waiting for, my boy? Get the lead out and get up here!” Mister Ham commanded my companion to get his rear in gear.
“Yes instructor Ham!” Silver obediently did as he was directed, “We’ll talk more later… during lunch, alright?” He whispered back when the teacher wasn’t busy glowering at him.
The last ten minutes of the class were spent watching Silver attempt to market the rubber chicken without a catchy tune or attention seizing method and fail miserably. Since I was by my lonesome and therefore ‘open to approach’, several mares who acutely enjoyed my ‘performance’ earlier saw fit to scotch closer and solicit me for information regarding myself or if I was available for the dating scene. I gave the majority of them blank stares and slowly shook my head, sending them off in dejection and making them wonder aloud what was wrong with them. It really did pain me to shut peop-… ponies down like that so remorselessly, but I couldn’t afford to fool around with something of that ilk. I wordlessly cursed and raged at fate for making me the one to worsen other’s insecurity issues this time around, but bore with it for the sake of coming home with as clean a conscious as possible.
With the unchanging ring of the intercom school bell, we shuffled out of the theater and into the hallways. Not bothering with the directory system, I determined that the main flow of students were those heading for the cafeteria and followed them. My hunch paid off and soon I beheld the room where every hungry equine settled in for some chow. It was well lit, with a massive skylight in the shape of a snowflake dominating the ceiling above. Each of the roughly L shaped chairs had that same emblem on their backs as well. I inhaled deeply and hummed hungrily at the smell of greasy, battered and deep fried vittles. I would need to carefully select my food to ensure that nothing indigestible found its way onto my plate, as I didn’t fancy biting into aliments that were hay based or anything.
Swiping an odd, collared tray from a stack, I got in line with the others and waited my turn. I learned that the collars were so the Earth ponies and the few Pegasi who weren’t using their wings to hold up the trays could carry their food while also keeping an eye fixed on it. It was in times like these that I was thankful that I chose a Unicorn to represent my form, freeing up the capacity for holding things. Having opposable thumbs with dexterous fingers were the best kind of magic, in my opinion. Getting closer in proximity to the food, I scanned what they had on offer. Hidden behind plastic face shields were multiple items of comestibles that ranged from fried straws of hay to key lime pie. Not surprisingly, they had the single largest salad selection I ever did see, which most of the ponies in front of me went for. But the most eye opening sight in the cafeteria by far though had to be the dromedary camel with the white food service uniform. The single hump on his back poked out of the cloth of his uniform whenever he shifted in place, reminding me of a hunchbacked horse.
‘And I thought I looked out of place’ I drily opined, too hungry to pay any mind to the horror show of inedible food in front of me.
I piled on a platter of seasoned and oiled hay strings that looked suspiciously like broken onion rings, a bowl of tempura-esque fried vegetables, and a plain whole wheat sandwich with sliced cucumbers and peanut butter jelly acting as the primary filling. I pulled out my schedule slip and gave it to the dromedary (whose nametag read Paul), who scanned it using some kind of barcode reader before wishing me a good day in a completely native born sounding voice. Mentally readjusting my standards for juxtaposition, I found a nice secluded table squeezed between two supporting pillars and sat down to eat.
Popping a fried carrot into my mouth, I sampled my free lunch on someone else’s dime. It was all right flavor wise, needed some ketchup was all. I caught a passing group of ponies stop and stare at me as I munched on my food, whispering and muttering to themselves so loudly that I didn’t need my keen hearing to make out what they were saying.
“Why is he eating alone? That’s so weird!” Pondered a filly who was on the chubby side, and I wasn’t claiming that just because she was unduly speaking ill about my habits.
“Isn’t that the colt that the drama club fillies were raving about? Can’t see why. He looks about as animated as a boulder to me” Shrugged another filly with eyes so silvery they almost blended in with the whites of her sclera.
‘Word spreads fast in this school’ I observed, content to ignore their nosiness.
“He has dreamy eyes though, so mysterious” One of them randomly remarked, inducing me to nearly hack up my last stalk of fried veggie. And to my shivering disgust, it was a colt who uttered that line.
I gave them a fairly irritated glare, “Do you mind? I’m busy masticating here” I snapped at them, making them jump two feet in the air and whinny in shock.
The dumbfounded looks on their muzzles were temptingly hilarious, but I stifled the urge to laugh and continued glowering at them. They got the hint and left me in peace, much to my relief… only for Silver to come to my side not three moments later, much to my never-ending dismay.
He stared at the ponies hightailing it to the opposite end of the cafeteria and then at me for a few seconds before speaking, “I don’t get you… one moment you’re the coolest colt in the room, and the next moment you transform into some hermit who hates company! What are you, schizophrenic?”
I scowled at him for a second before swallowing, “I lunch alone, alright?”
He shook his head and plopped his flank right down next to mine, “No. That’s not all right. Nopony should be all alone by themselves. It’s just so... lonely” He asserted in a depressed fashion.
‘Speak for yourself’ I silently sniped at him.
“I disagree… vehemently” I coolly regarded him. I liked human Silver Sword a lot better in this aspect. He was far less nosy (or would that be snouty here?) than his furry, trans-world counterpart.
“Well I’m going to sit here and keep you company until you open up like a normal pony should!” He insisted like a stubborn mule.
I narrowed my eyes at him, ‘I can out stubborn you, little horse’ I heard a snapping sound as my illusion whipped its tail, likely in annoyance. Equine body language was never my specialty; so I neglected to program my magic to specifically do attentive things like that. It’s incredible just how much magic can fill in the blanks.
“Suit yourself” I said with a shrug, and resumed munching down on my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I glanced about at everyone else using their hooves to hold their eating utensils in the air or by their sides like it was a perfectly normal thing and not a blatant violation of physics. Good lord that bothered me so freaking much.
‘Roll with it, just roll with it. You’ve learned not to question things too hard by now’ I resorted to jaded acceptance as a defense mechanism.
“Dude, I’m glad I’m not you. Always alone whenever I see him around school. First with the statue, then in the hallways” Silver listed pityingly, trying to make me seem like I was forever alone guy.
“And I’m glad that you’re not me. There can be only one loner in this school!” I retorted, brushing off the pathetic attempt to guilt me into changing my natural ways.
“What’s the deal, Zenith?” Silver demanded to know, fed up with my aloofness. “If you’re going to be like this consistently, then I’m having second thoughts about joining the band” He subtly threatened, knowing the one thing he had to say to get me to bend.
I frowned at him, “I’m not always like this for your information, Silver. I’ve still got some emotional baggage left over from my other high school experience, is all. Me seeking out my own space away from others is just as a means of safeguarding myself from teenage persecution”
He shook his head again in sympathy, “I’m so sorry to hear that, Zenith. But shutting ponies out is not the right answer… it’s just turning a blind eye to a problem that needs to be solved”
My brows rose in disbelief, “So I’m a problem now? Is that it?”
He slammed his hooves down on the table, causing his prune juice container to spill over, “Darn it, Zenith! Don’t twist my words like that when you know better! You aren’t the problem…” He poked a hoof in my direction, “…your inability to proactively hang out around with others without them coming to you first is a severe handicap, and you need to see that for what it is. I’m your friend, Zenith. Don’t you trust me?” He asked me, sounding hurt by my apparent lack of faith.
“With my life” I responded without thinking, looking him unflinchingly in his eyes.
My admission made him recoil in surprise. I hadn’t a clue myself why I admitted that so candidly. Was it because we fought together against that scaly beast roaming the frozen wastes of the icy North? Most likely. Few bonds are stronger than those forged in the flames of combat.
He whickered in affectedness, “Wow… that’s more trust than anypony’s ever given me. But if that’s true, then surely listening to me when I say that you need to liven up isn’t too much to ask, is it?” He reasoned.
“No… I suppose it isn’t” I exhaled, finishing off the last of my PBJ sandwich was a hearty bite.
“Glad to hear that, Zenith my friend. Prove it to me this afternoon and over the next few days, okay? Please?” He humbly requested of me, to which I noiselessly agreed to with a nod.
Silver made to speak some more, but was cut off by the ringing of the bell signaling another interclass period, “Drat. Lunch never was long enough for my tastes” He mumbled sourly, “My last class is on the second floor and on the other end of the building, so I got to go. I’ll meet you by the flagpole in the back entrance parking lot. Think about what I said until then, okay Zenith?” He collected his remaining uneaten food and ditched it in a nearby rubbish bin before booking off.
I bit into a handful of the seasoned hay strings and gagged at the gritty texture before spitting them out onto my plate. I muttered several dark expletives about the one thing here being exactly what it was named instead of a poorly made pun and trashed the rest of my tray, along with my appetite. I could have been angrier about it, but I choose to chillax, given how sated my hunger was for the most part. Conjuring another set of saddle-schoolbags for my illusion to carry, I joined the moving herd of students in migrating to the last class of the school day.
“Attention! My little ponies! Attention!” The public announcement speakers squawked as I was two thirds of the way to my history class. The aforementioned ponies in question stopped in the hall and shushed each other like the obedient tools that they were. I narrowed my eyes and grit my teeth at the brazen title drop and the implication that I was one of them, my avatar copying the gesture with equal indignation.
“Just a public reminder,” The buzzy voice of what may have been Cadence addressed the school, “there are only a few days left to sign up in the Principal’s office for the Battle of the Bands event if you or any of your friends are interested in participating onstage. Stage equipment is provided for the venue, but you’ll want to bring your own instruments. A panel of mystery judges who you’ll find familiar will be presiding over the scores. From what we’ve seen so far the prospective competition is looking pretty fierce! So far we have: The Whinnies, The Galloping Galloways, The Salt Lickers, The Hay-Babies, and The Night-Mares! All of them are rearing for a chance to get their hooves on the first place trophy, as well as the minor scholarship grants that come with them! But don’t feel alarmed, for you have the potential to win it all in one!” The voice singled the listener out, “Ta for now my precious Crystal Ponies, but before I sign off… Brilliant Minds!” The announcer called out.
“Crystal Hearts!” The congregation finished, reciting the school’s motto. With that out of the way, the PA system clicked off and everyone resumed what they were doing. I minimized the significance of this in my head and continued on my way.
I didn’t recognize anyone from any of my previous classes in the history class, but the instructor appeared to recognize me, her eyes watching me like a hawk the moment I crossed the threshold. As I feared, my history class was taught by none other than the counterpart of the woman who acted as a second mother to me, Crystal Clear. Her equine form carried over all of her aged beauty, with the same gleam of kindness that was reflected in her gentle eyes. The only difference I noticed was that she had on a single golden earring on her left ear, which must have been an Earth pony wedding band.
My Crystal Clear kept hers in a glass container in the living room that she would often put aside time for just to caress it with a sad, but serene expression on her countenance. I once observed that her wedding band had an inscription on the inner ring that was made out to her by her husband, and I never did ask her about what it read. It was… hallowed to her, and that was all I needed to know. Just like her deceased son’s room, the same one she had the selflessness to host me in when I materialized one day out of the blue. Damn it… reminiscing about all of this made me want to return to the Krystal Kingdom solely to give her a comforting hug.
Crystal Clear was a better history instructor than I would have accredited to her. The class was a fairly condensed course and she had a knack for summarizing important events around the world in a way that made it both fun to learn and easy to memorize. Of course it was a groan worthy time of puns for me as well, what with all the mentions of the battle of Mareathon, Shakespony’s poetry affecting even the Queen, the independence of Amareica, and the Minotaur Civil War first erupting into violence at Bull Run as the Blue Vest Union fought against the South-Horn Confederacy over a period of four bloody years. It’s a wonder I didn’t create a crater in my desk from introducing my face to it so many times. Crystal Clear also kept sneaking glances at me during the duration of her lecture, and I knew that she knew something was up. When the bell rung and the class concluded, she motioned for me to stay put and speak with her after class. Ignoring the jeers of students who thought I was somehow in trouble, I patiently waited for everybody to file out.
Once we were alone, Crystal stopped by my desk and took a seat by my side. After studying me for a few moments, she spoke, “Forgive me for broaching upon this… but are you some kind of shaved Minotaur? I can’t say I’ve ever seen one before, let alone taught the finer points of Geoponitics to” She remarked, perplexed by my true form, which visibly struggled to fit into the desk space.
‘As I predicted… my disguising magic is no match for her clairvoyant Mana mark’ I groused.
I snickered briefly at my envisioning of what a shaved Minotaur might look like, “No ma’am, I am most definitely not a hairless minotaur”
She waved a hoof forbearingly in the air, “You can call me Crystal, dear. I was never one for formalities when it came to a private talk between two ponies… or between one pony and whatever you might be, as it were” She corrected herself, netting herself some appreciative points from me for not being pony-centric, “But the memo informed me that you would be a unicorn pony specifically… but clearly you aren’t, so can you elucidate for me why that is the case? I won’t judge you… I promise”
“Well the jig is up. So I don’t have much reason to keep it a secret, now do I?” I dropped my disguise magic and sighed in respite as I felt the steady drain cease its assault upon my reserves.
“If it would make you comfortable… I could keep the subject matter of this conversation strictly between us” She courteously extended.
“Why are you being so understanding?” I incredulously questioned with some caution, “Most would be reasonably off put by someone who wasn’t what they appeared to be”
“I’m… not entirely sure” She replied while absently gazing up at the ceiling, also confused by the way she was acting, “But something in my heart is telling me that you can be trusted. It’s like somepony who knows me as well as myself is whispering in my ear that you are of noble character… and in dire need of a shoulder to lean on, even if you won’t admit it to yourself” She hit the nail on the head with a faint grin, like that of a frustrated but always loving parent who knew that their child was the culprit behind a robbery of the cookie jar in spite of their refusal to own up to their actions.
‘She really does peer into the true nature of people the instant she’s in contact with them’ I mused, feeling a fair amount of years younger than I should have. How Crystal earned her Mana mark for her most profound empathy was a story I should have her asked her about when I had the chance.
“Noble?” I stubbornly scoffed through my nostrils, “If you knew what I was like on the inside, you wouldn’t be so quick to presume that”
“I don’t presume… I know. Crazy as that is, I know” She laughed, a melodic sound that lifted the mood by several layers.
I meshed my fingers together and leaned onto my desk in cogitation, “Well… it’s a bit of a complicated story. But I’ll sum it up as best I can”
I started from the beginning, how I was in a citadel far from this place and minding my own business when one of my belongings began acting up and egging me into chasing it through a magical mirror where I wound up here. I told her how my possession magically altered itself into becoming the first place trophy for Friday’s event. How shortly after that I came up with an ingenuous disguise that wasn’t restrictive in my movements so I could possibly find it on my own, being befriended by Silver in front of the statue, exploiting an opening to replace a student who wasn’t due to arrive until the following week, and everything else that I experienced on my first wacky Monday at Crystal City High School. Not once did Crystal interrupt or appeared disbelieving to anything I related to her.
“But if the replicated trophy is yours, then I could simply petition the Principal to give it to you so that you can take this ‘portal’ back and go home” She logically expressed. I couldn’t help but wince at how she unwittingly referred to Arcania as my home, and how the automatic reaction to declare that it wasn’t my home was gradually eroding into fretful indecision.
“I don’t want to obtain it that way, Crystal” I made it succinct that doing so was not a viable option for me, “Besides, I have… other reasons why I want to go into that Battle of the Bands event with my friends. Assuming that I can successfully get Ardent to join us” I mumbled to myself.
“You want to see the mending of their friendships with your own eyes don’t you?” It wasn’t a question, “And yet you still don’t believe yourself to be noble…” She suspired in nigh indiscernible vexation, “Very well… despite my membership on the panel, I reserve the right to act according to my conscious and guide you toward the best way to win the other judges’ hearts” She affirmed, motioning for me not to contradict her like she instinctively knew I would.
She held up a hoof, “First and foremost… Lemon Rocks and Glimmer Gem are huge into eighties era music, so I would make half of the six songs you’ll be required to perform callbacks to that time period. Trust me, it’ll earn you some major points in your favor in case your band mates cannot compete with the other contenders” She assured me.
“I think they’ll be up to snuff” I confidently articulated, “What about the other half?” I followed up on her train of thought.
“Modern rock music innovated by your own band, of course!” She responded, “Any more than three eighties songs and the other judges will start to peg your group as being unoriginal copycats, which you do not want”
She gasped as though she realized something important, “Where are you staying in the meantime? The event is near the end of the week!” She shouted fearfully.
I hadn’t considered that, to be brutally honest.
It must have showed on my face, because Crystal frowned heavily, “Ooh…” She whined, “I’m pushing my authority as it is by giving you inside information, but…” She reached into her suit vest pocket and extracted a keycard that she tossed to me, “This spare keycard of mine is for instances when one of the staff needs access to the school afterhours to pick up something they left behind or for meetings that happen outside of regular school hours. There’s a special spot that I sometimes retire to in order to escape the noise of life and just read. It’s in the library and nopony knows about it except for myself…” She pointed to herself before turning the hoof to me, “…and now you”
She explained to me its exact location, which was sequestered in the space on top of two bookshelves in an alcove that would now double as a hidey hole for me. I glanced at the clock and remembered that Silver Sword was waiting for me in the parking lot. I thanked Crystal profusely for being a wonderful person and reactivated my disguise. Running through the halls and out through the back entrance of the school. I identified the flagpole that Silver spoke of and caught sight of his Prius like car parked along the curb with a disgruntled looking pony at the wheel. His defeated expression cheered up once he saw me. He then pressed something on his dashboard, triggering the passenger door to his car to swing open as I drew nearer.
“Hey Zenith!” He called out to me in relief, “I was worried that something might have happened to make you late. What kept you?”
“Delayed” I tersely answered as I clambered inside the awkwardly designed vehicle, “My history teacher wanted to have a few words with me after class” I elaborated further after Silver gave me a look indicating that he needed a tad more to go on than that.
“Uh oh… Do I have a rebel in my car?” He jested in a singsong voice with a beam.
“You do” I playfully countered, “But that’s not the reason she wanted to speak with me”
“That’s not for me to know then” Silver accepted with grace before cracking a smile that would make Pinkie jealous, “You ready to see Crystal City up close?” He inquired of me. When I answered in the affirmative, he pressed down on the gas pedal and we rocketed out of the empty parking lot and onto the main road.
The avenues of Crystal City were very beautiful. Tall and thick evergreen trees stood side by side like a line of bearded Ents waiting to march on Isengard and tear shit up as we drove down the wide road listening to the radio. Pony cars were eerily similar to human driven ones in every respect except for the minor differences in seat shapes, and the position of the pedal and wheel placement to accommodate a pony’s four legged form. There was also something baffling about what I found concerning particular music stations on the pony radio. All the music from the eighties was aesthetically the same save for the modified lyrics. The announcers for the eighties station (Named Beatbox and New Wave) even poked fun at recent generations for their music not holding a candle to the tunes they listened to when they were young.
“Hey Beatbox, you remember the days when we used to listen to Hay & Oats and music was actually music?” New Wave posed a question to his partner.
“You bet I do!” A grizzled voice responded before singing to one of their tracks in his head aloud, “Woah here he comes! Watch out girl, he’ll chew you up! Woah here he comes! He’s a mare-eater!~”
“The young ones these days can’t even dance to our music right! Remember that one filly we saw the other day with the crazy looking mane? The one who was pirouetting and prancing about to the tune of Mane-iac while dressed in spandex? Utterly ridiculous! If this is what the next generation is becoming, then I worry for the future” You could practically hear New Wave shaking his head as asserted his vote of no confidence against Silver’s generation.
“I don’t want to listen to that old fogey talk trash about our generation like that” He deactivated the radio with the press of a button. And that was the end of that… but it did give me some ideas to work with when it came to planning what music we would need to practice for this Friday.
As we made out way into the bowels of the cityscape, I contented myself to watching the myriad of sights passing by in the window. Albeit this may have been a mistake, because those sights turned into a parade of puns as I saw several places that were knock offs of commercial establishments back home, just with animal-esque names or things related to animals. For instance, everyone that needed to purchase a metric ton of groceries only had to drive down the street to their local Cowsco, which was a flagrant perversion of Costco. Wal-Mart became Mare-mart, Macy’s became Marecies, Domino’s Pizzeria became Flamingo’s Pizzaria, and my precious Dick’s sporting goods became Chick’s sporting goods… No wait, that one actually remained unchanged. I was half worried that Petco would become Humanco or something, but those fears were ultimately unfounded, as no such place existed on Silver’s GPS address finder.
“What is that awful noise?” Silver Sword spoke up in concerned curiosity, his ears flicking about, “It sounds like something… grinding against itself”
I instantly stopped sliding my teeth on top of each other as we passed by a Neighdstrom Rack… God, it’s like they weren’t even trying anymore! Heck, I’d bet all the coins in my munny pouch that the mannequins on display in the window were actually called something silly like equinnequins or ponyquins.
‘These incessant horse related puns are really getting on my nerves’ I internally growled to myself.
Our first stop was at a pawnshop like the type I had mentioned to Silver from before. It took thirty minutes for the owner to legalize and appropriate the paperwork necessary for a pony without official documentation beyond his school identification slip, but shop policies were far more relaxed in ponyland than they were back home. He was incredulous that a young colt like me would have so much wealth to his name thanks to his patrons, though the way he said it told me that he didn’t think highly of ponies who didn’t earn their wealth the hard way. As much as I wanted to explain to him how difficult it was to bring over historical designs into worlds that didn’t have them based solely on what schematics were available online (I had to fill in a lot of details using my own brain), that would have been telling, and on top of that I couldn’t care less what he thought of me, he just had to shut up and pay me money. Soon enough I walked out of that store with a few thousand bucks spending cash to my name, after the pawnshop owner bought my story about the coins and poured enough nitric acid on them to confirm their elemental pureness of course.
After that, Silver was considerate enough to ferry me to a music shop and a jeweler’s to pick up the items we needed to commence with our plans of bringing Ardent into the fold of our nascent band. I loaded the bass guitar, a portable but professional keyboard, and an expensive Minotaur imported Keytar (an instrument that the owner of the shop claimed I would need to be extraordinarily talented or have fingers to play it. I just smiled toothily at the old stallion and paid him for it) into Silver’s car trunk before we spent the rest of the day doing activities like visiting the arcade, stuffing myself with vegetarian style pizza, and easing that cucumber calzone down with digestion facilitating yogurt. Another mind blower for me was the discovery that pony toilets were no different than human ones, with the exception that they sat lower to the floor. I had expected restroom facilities like the ones in Asia where the loo is just a glorified hole in the ground that you squat onto and do your business. I expended a lot of both time and money with Silver that afternoon, who tried his hardest to convert me into somebody outgoing in the course of a single outing. He couldn’t accomplish such a feat if he had a million afternoons like this, but I couldn’t fault him for admirable persistence in the face of inevitable failure.
When all was said and done and the sun was beginning to set in the sky, I directed Silver to drop me off near the school grounds with the well engineered excuse that I took a bus line near there to get back to my home and that I didn’t want him to burn any more of his gasoline on little ol’ me. I told him he could hold onto the instruments and the necklace for me and sent him off. The keycard that Crystal graciously lent to me proved itself handy by letting me into the school again, which was dimly lit now the sun was no longer shining its light through the windows. There were a few light strips in the ceiling that were active though, so I wasn’t like I had to stumble about in the dark trying to find that library. Speaking of which, the library of CCHS was on the creepy side when the level of illumination was poor. Despite jumping at a few harmless shadows that I was sure that the library ghost sent to torment me for accidentally knocking over a small shelf while navigated through a narrow inlet, I eventually found the secluded place that Crystal told me about, finding a tiny bed that would be a tight fit for a person half my size, a pile of books with an unlit candle holder on top of the covers, and a recently written note from Crystal Clear wishing me a good night’s rest. I gave off a tired chuckle before straightening out my body in a yawn (my illusion stretched like a cat), settling in for the evening, and collapsing on the tiny bed without complaint so I could take the express train to dreamland.
⁂
I’ll summarize the main events for the rest of the week I spent hidden in plain sight amongst the ponies. Silver and Pierce coordinated their movements during interclass period so that they could isolate Ardent and his ladyfriend and apologize to them for their abrasive actions separately, without either of the couple influencing the other’s decision. I went with Silver Sword as backup (who brought a flower to go with the necklace bearing Strawberry Quartz’ namesake, which confused the heck out of me) in case Strawberry wasn’t in a forgiving mood. The aforementioned filly was attractive by equine standards I guess, with long red curls in her mane that were accentuated by her white coat. She expressed surprise that Silver would get her such a thoughtful gift as a form of apology and sniffed at the additional flower before chomping down on it and making a pleased noise of satisfaction, because women here eat the flowers you give them, I guess?
Anyhow, because they were in touch with their emotions, bleeding heart ponies, both Ardent and his fillyfriend’s resolve to stay indignant about the slights against them by both parties crumbled quickly. Ardent agreed to join the band and was exceedingly happy about having the chance to practice with his new bass. Along that same vein, he apprised us that we could practice together as a band at his uncle’s place since neither Silver nor Pierce’s parents would tolerate any kind of racket in their garage. As the frontcolt of the band, they deferred to me when it came to what we were going to be practicing when it came to the actual music.
This worked quite well into my plans, and I communicated to them that I would have the tablature ready for each of their respective instruments by that Tuesday afternoon. I skipped out on lunch that day (though not on routine cans of Red Pegasus to refill my magic) to make use of the library’s computers to confirm that eighties songs were unchanged in musical structure and copied down their tabs from online sources (The pony internet was actually better organized than the internet and knew and was lukewarm about). What I thought was really cool was that most ponies forwent using the clunky keyboards that Secretary Sassy was so fond of and used a voice recognition software instead. Being old fashioned though, I stuck to using the keyboard and a scroll wheel shaped like a ball that also doubled as a mouse. As for the modern music that we would perform, I engaged a memory scouring spell to transcribe the collective tablature that I looked up on my laptop in anticipation for the athletic games, all that time spent rocking out in my personal music chambers back in my cloud home having unexpectedly paid off.
I stayed after at the ending of every history class so that I could speak with Crystal, who gave me what she thought were useful tips on how to impress the other judges, like what kinds of behavior they wanted from the performers and their performance methods. It wasn’t anything specific enough that the other bands wouldn’t normally emulate, but I appreciated her attempts to help me beyond what she had already kindly permitted. Ardent and I got his mantlet finished on time for the due date and Peabody liked it, though he expressed more affection for my robot in the form of an equine. I had it sing ‘Technologic’ as demo, and every student was freaked out by the way its eyes and lips moved in conjunction with the song. Often I would need to excuse myself to the bathroom during class to buy a can of Red Pegasus, using the excuse that I had urge incontinence and therefore my bladder hated my guts. When one colt who asked me about it remarked that my condition sucked, I wittily replied that it leaked.
Beyond band practice at Ardent’s uncle’s place (think rural farmhouse with a lone garage distinct from the building), I also attended several after school competitions that all three of my band mates were contenders in, and they in turn attended each other’s events to cheer the other on with me. I never went to school events like that back when I was in high school, and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. As individual players, my friends were average musicians at best, but stick them together in a group? Somehow there was a magnifying effect on skill that more collaborative ponies were, and our practice sessions could have put in studio albums themselves with negligible disparity between the original song and ours.
Friday evening rolled around sooner than I would have preferred, but I knew that ‘The Star Cabal’ was up to the challenge (Even if my attempt at harnessing the power of montage music were met with disappointment). The opposing bands and the ponies who came to see some rock and roll clustered inside of the high school gym, where a simplistic platform stage with plug in speakers stood opposite of the stands where the audience would sit. The panel of judges was all female, as one might expect of a matriarchal society, and each of them were Crystal’s age or likely older. My group was set to go last since we were the last band to sign up for the event, which was weird because there were quite a few ponies in the crowd who would be watching us perform, you’d think they’re be more than just six groups competing in the event.
Speaking of the bands… our competition wasn’t too shabby. The Whinnies had a sort of seventies pop style with a healthy amount of soul mixed in. The Galloping Galloways were contemporary in style but lacked that spark that made them distinct from the mainstream. The Salt Lickers were onto something with their eighties like punk rock and wooed the judges visibly, fomenting me to some concern. I knew that Crystal would take my band’s side no matter what, but we’d need to win over at least one of the other judges if we were to prevail over the other groups. As if fate was sensing my discomfort, The Hay-Babies were average to mediocre at best, their coordination was off, their key was off, and their incompetent demeanors were off. They actually garnered some disconcerting boos from the audience and headshakes from the judges, resulting in them arguing among themselves before being shooed of the stage to make way for the penultimate band, The Night-Mares.
These darkly dressed and mascara adorned fillies were openly analogous to gothic rock bands, and they were alarmingly good at what they did. Their music was mysterious and almost arousing in its siren like quality, the lyrics of the songs made the listener think about the existential meaning of their lives, and they could manipulate their instruments like they were born to the stage. Offhand, it was hilarious to see an equine rear up on their hind hooves so that they could operate their instruments properly (I learned not to look too deep into how they could play them without fingers), but they could balance with an admirable level of capability, with very minimal sway on their part. This was because Unicorn magic was designated as against the rules, since a skilled mage could play their instruments automatically and flawlessly with a spell, performing by hoof allowed for mistakes to be made which gave the competition an equal chance. That would be under ideal circumstance though, because one of the three judges was already in favor of us, and that same judge gave us hints on how to stand out from the other contenders.
Finally, it came our turn to shine. I gave a short but hopefully inspiring pregame speech intended to lift their combined morale out of the gutter after witnessing the last band dominate the judges score cards (Even Crystal gave them high marks, and they legitimately earned them). I reminded them that we had all trained very hard for this moment and even reconciled our strained friendships. I assured them that even if we didn’t win, not a prize in the world could beat that. I admit that I was laying it on thick, but I’ve found that the cheesier something is, the more these ponies eat it up. I’m not sure if it worked, but my companions steeled themselves after I made an all for one gesture where we stacked hooves on top of the other in a symbol of camaraderie, and we walked out onto the stage in a single file procession with myself at the head. I was taking a monumental gamble with my magic, given how many eyes were going to be focusing on us and specifically me, but I overcharged myself with the recommended maximum of three cans of Red Pegasus (Shame it wasn’t Rockstar energy. That would have been so fitting right then). So I felt relatively safe that I was in no danger of my disguise failing.
We started off our performance with the Police’s ‘Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic’, which the ladies on the panel immediately fell in love. Pierce rocked the drums, Ardent provided the backbone his bass, Silver supplied the synth with his keyboard, and I used a Stratocaster like guitar that was lent to me by the school while imitating Sting’s vocal style. I saw Crystal gushing over this one song in particular, leaning onto the panel table with a goofy grin on her face as she reminisced about memories that passed long ago.
From there, I charmed the audience with my usage of the Germane language on our next hit, ‘Ninety nine Luftballons’. It was strange for me to be singing this one, since a woman originally sang this song. But here in ponyland, much of the eighties music sung by girls or about girls was reversed to substitute them with guys. It was bizarre, but nothing out of the ordinary considering where I was. The panel was eating out of our palms (or frogs I suppose) by this point, and we received consistent scores that were very generous, especially the perfect tens given out by Crystal.
The crowd was getting rowdy though, and they wanted to hear something original that their parents didn’t listen to when they were their age. I anticipated this by painstakingly transcribing the tablature to a song beforehand that was more eighties than the eighties itself, called ‘Pop! Goes my Heart’. It was actually from a movie that parodied a has been pop star in the modern day, but that’s neither here nor there. It was a blast to sing this one alongside Silver, who found the lyrics during some lines to be quite fitting himself during our practice sessions. To my slight shock, surprising the judges with a song that was both familiar sounding and yet never heard of before had netted us some originality points that frankly, weren’t needed.
I readdressed the excited four legged audience with great fervor, bending down to exchange my current instrument for a Keytar and so that my head would be even with the microphone (I wasn’t hunched over though, since my ponygänger was technically standing up tall enough that it wasn’t a debilitating issue). With a tapping motion of my boot against the flooring of the stage, Ardent detected the cue and began slapping at his bass guitar as we demonstrated our rendition of Muse’s ‘Undisclosed Desires’. The Keytar was an interesting device, and the chords for this song were easy enough that I didn’t need to sweat it. Slap bass sounded even groovier when one had solid hoof-tips to resonate the strings with. I had to refrain from snapping my fingers along to the beat, since those effects had to be synthesized by Silver. The crowd absolutely loved this song, and their cheering was almost stentorian enough to drown out the music itself.
We took a momentary water break after the song concluded to rest and recover, since rocking out was more exhausting than it looked. While I was sitting down with a bottle of water in my heads, I caught sight of one of the gothic fillies from earlier in my peripherals grinning mischievously behind the stage as her horn lit up with an aura like the most obscuring shade of black. I wanted to call her out on it and discover the meaning of whatever she was tampering with, but was called away by my band mates, who felt refreshed and were ready to take to the stage once more to power through our last two songs.
Suspicious of foul play (Or would that be foal play? Great. Those evil puns have ultimately infected me), I kept an eye out for trouble as we proceeded to play one of my favorite songs by Muse, ‘Hysteria’. Ardent’s hooves moved like lightning as he nailed every note to the kickass bass line that made this song so amazing. Pierce proved his worth as well, keeping that fat beat in line with his drums. Silver took a bit of a vacation on this one, only adjusting the extra synthetic sounds to give my voice some simultaneous background echoing that gave the impression that I really was hysterical. I adored this song, and playing it for myself on that platform was an unspoken dream come true. Each instrument performed its role in collaboration so well that I sometimes suspected that the spirit of rock and roll itself possessed the composer.
Everything was peaches as Ardent, Pierce and I monopolized both the stage and the hearts of our audience, but something inexplicable happened by the time it came for the epic guitar solo portion. Black smoke began pouring out from the back of the stage and accumulating into a silhouette that looked very much like the shadow of that Blizzard Beast that made me so introspective after I had planted my blade into its skull with my band mate’s human counterparts. Its glowing yellow eyes had a menacing shade of red to them that gave it the impression that it was bloodthirsty and crazy. It growled loudly, despite not possessing tangible vocal chords, and dived at us. It’s billowy form broke up into a wave of smoke the swept the stage and over us, filling myself and presumably my band mates with a reasonless fear of failing the competition.
With how resistant I was to mental suggestion, I shook off the feeling and shredded at my guitar defiantly. Nothing was going to stop me from performing that guitar solo, damn it. Streams of multi-chromatic light began to stream from the main body of my guitar as the solo built up, its rays perforating the fog of darkness that surrounded us and eliciting a roar of angered pain from the shadow beast. By the end of my solo, the light had become too overwhelming for the shadowy creature to handle and with a final furious roar; it dissipated into the nothingness from whence it came. The ignorant crowd, oblivious to what the shadow beast was and likely believing it to be a part of the show, hollered and hurrahed after the beast was slain a second time.
I glanced behind me to see Ardent and Pierce shaking off the residual mental suggestion magic and stare questioningly at me. I gave them a shrug that basically said ‘Hell if I know’ and motioned for them to keep the song going. We finished strong and earn a solid row of tens from the judge’s panel, who were oddly uncaring about the dirty trickery that I was sure those gothic chicks were responsible for. Further cementing this theory was the fact that most of them were absent from the bleachers where the other band members were bidden to wait; with only the filly whose horn I saw glowing earlier remaining, a severe scowl written on her face. Because I was too high on my rock and roll spree, I simply winked at her and blew a sloppy kiss her way. She flustered bright red and expeditiously made herself scarce, making me laugh at her reaction.
For our last performance of the night, Silver had acquired a mandolin from his father’s personal study for our final performance. I tuned my guitar to the twelve string like sound of BDDDDD tuning, hushed the audience with a backwards glance to my band mates, and used the plectrum in my fingers to delve into the Goo Goo Doll’s ‘Iris’. My fingers danced along the narrow fretboard as I sang this last but certainly not least in magnitude of significance, melody. I was able to inject some genuine emotion into the lyrics of this song. After all, I had just spent the better half of a week hiding myself away from every being I came into contact with except Crystal Clear, whose eyes were tearing up as she watched me pour my tumultuous heart out to my audience.
As the notes from Silver’s mandolin faded into the air, we received virtually unanimous zeal from our audience, all of whom were chanting the name of our band. The mares in the crowd trilled and swooned as they fantasized about dating a rock star. Crystal and her fellow judges shared a glance at each other and nodded as an unspoken agreement passed between them. Crystal took a microphone and announced the winners of the Battle of the Bands event, which was The Star Cabal. The Principal was waiting with the trophy nearby and approached us with it. She congratulated us before hoofing over the prize for each of us to marvel at. The instant that Silver Sword held it in his hooves as he sat back on his haunches, it emitted an explosion of luminescence that enveloped everyone present and stunned them momentarily. I sensed that my illusion had been stripped away from me, exposing me before everybody in the gym. As you might suspect, they gawked at me in sheer incomprehension.
“Oooh… nuts” I euphemized a curse aloud, “Umm… hi?” I wiggled my fingers at the countless stupefied eyes staring unblinkingly at me.
A skittish filly in the crowd screamed in fright, signaling the rest of them to panic and start galloping all over the place as the room erupted into disorganized chaos. Realizing that now was probably a good time to leave, I turned to my pony companions and snatched the Tantō from Silver’s grip, which he was too occupied being dumbfounded to maintain as he stared up at my imposing frame.
“Yoink!” I facetiously flipped the handle of my weapon in my hands, “It’s been loads of fun guys, but I got to go. Keep your friendship alive, alright?” I spread my wings, and using them for extra thrust, booked it through an open door leading out into the hallways. It may have been a tad rude of me to leave them to pick up the pieces, but I filed it under ‘Not my problem’.
‘I need to have a serious talk with whoever or whatever made this’ I grumbled in thought as I soared through the corridors and out the main entrance. As if hearing me, I felt my Tantō emit a faint pulse in my clutches and the reopened portal at the base of the statue changed its tint as I flew into it, desperately praying that it would take me back to my home.
Chapter 27: A Blast in the Past: Star-crossed Destiny
The soft thrumming of unearthly ambience filled my senses and soothed my restless spirit as I drifted in a fathomless void that wasn’t exactly empty of anything, much to my confusion. Puzzlement led to remembrance, and I tried to call to mind what it was that I was doing before I ended up wherever I was now, but the fuzzy fragments of memory weren’t arriving at the station properly. All I could piece together was that I had patiently bided my time somewhere else besides my original starting point. I vaguely recalled it being a scenery change brought on by an object of mine that had never appeared out of the ordinary when I had first used it. And then out of the blue it suddenly acted up and dragged me along on an extraordinary trip betwixt worlds. While it definitely satisfied that inner part of me that was enslaved to a yearning of wanderlust, it also irritated that individualistic part of me that insisted that it should have been on my terms.
The rapidly coalescing, splintered memories carried with them several resounding motes of emotions that echoed in my heart like memories on replay. They ranged from triumph, anxiety, uncertainty, but led to an ultimate sense of homesickness that actually felt as though it weighed down on me, despite the lack of gravity in the pseudo vacuum. Almost as soon as they came, the emotions evaporated from my heart and all was made tranquil again, though I couldn’t have been sure if it was due to any action my part, or if there was an outside influence acting on me. A soft breeze from nowhere and everywhere at once washed over me like the calming whisper of a mother, assuring me that all was well and ending my habitual overzealous introspection. The stress from all of the craziness I left behind me was oddly lifted from my shoulders, and the emotional burden that kept my mind harried was subsequently reduced to negligible levels. Sufficiently mollified, I couldn’t help but fall into a dreamless sleep, barely detecting the phantasmagorical happenings around me picking up in activity. Nearly imperceptible and intangible tendrils from the building current enwrapped themselves around my being and ferried me adrift off towards some distant destination for some unknown purpose.
I ‘awoke’ from my dormancy, still floating in that incomprehensible, interminable immensity that stretched beyond all borders, physical or otherwise. Finally, after an interval of inactivity that could have lasted anywhere between an instant and an eternity, it appeared that something was transpiring in the blank expanse that wasn’t quite as blank as it seemed to be. The canvas of faux nothingness sparked into life as my surroundings took on an outline and gradually a form around me, likely animated by the same benevolent power that had lulled me into some much needed rest for my fitful soul. As my feet touched down on a solid surface and my senses returned to their full capacity, I saw in front of me an ornate arch of outstanding craftsmanship erected atop a platform that was itself standing above a massive spire of two toned black and white rock that towered over the encompassing landscape by an unsurpassable degree. However the image wasn’t perfectly distinct and was truthfully rather cloudy, like I wasn’t really there in the flesh and genuine crystal clarity was just out of reach. Though this handicap honestly underscored how breathtaking the view taking shape to the fore of me must have been in real life.
Inexplicably, I instinctively knew (or was feasibly instilled with the knowledge) that this enigmatic structure was named the Heavensgate. The title seemed to befit it, as the arched platform offered any observer that was perched on it an unparalleled view of the supernal, starry Heavens above, as well as the verdant earth below that was blooming with verdure and life. There were exceedingly few things that I had witnessed in my lifetime that equaled the sight that met my eyes now as I stood on the edge of the precipice. This was the kind of view that one would expect eccentric sages would happily exile themselves to (though most would feign resigned acceptance to maintain that overly righteous, abnegating image) for meditation and self reflection on the greater mysteries of existence.
“Nice view, no doubt about it…” I commented to nobody in particular, hardly aware of the wispy quality that my voice had taken on, “Doesn’t explain what I’m doing here though” I said, gazing up at the endless sky in search of answers that were unlikely to come.
As if cued by my vocalization (or perhaps my cynicism), twin lights of disparate nature manifested out of the cosmic curtain before me and sent me reeling back with a forearm raised in front of my face to shield my eyes. The overwhelming glare from the lights eventually died down, as though in response to my discomfort, which allowed me a mostly unfettered look at the latest phenomenon to appear to me. The ivory light concealed a tall, nondescript being clothed in a garb that was nigh indistinguishable from its surrounding brightness, while the other shorter being was shrouded in a mix of milky moonlight and starlight. Even though I had strong suspicions as to who these people were, my uncanny sixth sense for exceptionally powerful auras was not going off, which meant one of two things. It either meant that the figures staring me in the face were merely simulacrums, or that my abilities were being suppressed, which wasn’t likely since I could still feel the magic stirring inside of me like a font of energy, waiting to be used at a moment’s notice.
With my self inspection put aside, I returned to the beings that were all but holograms in name and were gracing me with their presence. One was brilliant and bright as the warmth of the Sun, shining like an inexorable beacon of goodness for all under its care. The other was cool and calm as the caressing touch of the Moon, carrying with it the solemn promise of security and a good night’s sleep. More features concerning these entities revealed themselves to me as I beheld the luminous effigies. At their innermost centers I could only just make out hints of a feminine outline that I would recognize anywhere by this point, thereby confirming my suspicions as to their identities. But this only made my hunger for answers that would shed some light on my reason for being here all the more ravenous.
Breaking into my rumination, I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere that told me that I was no longer ‘alone’.
“You desire answers? A clarification of what you have been chosen for? You will find it in the distant past” A choir of harmonious voices spoke to me, “Seek them out…” The melodic voices implicitly indicated the figures swathed in heavenly light by dimming all other luminescence around their general outlines, “…and all will become clear in time” The mysterious chorus explained as the radiance given off by the two figures multiplied exponentially in intensity. The light continued to wax until everything in my line of sight went white. I felt that same power from the un-void send me hurdling backwards until I thumped against what felt like mossy earth, simultaneously knocking my ‘lights’ out and putting me back under.
I dreamt of home, like I had on so many occasions before.
⁂
I awoke with a sharp intake of breath as my eyes snapped open. Acting on all but instinct, I sprung from the spongy ground onto my feet Kung Fu style like Bruce Lee and promptly went into a guarded observation mode, with a hand held in close contact with the smooth hilt of my blade in case there was danger nearby. It might seem a bit paranoid of me to an outside observer, but this was my natural reaction whenever I found myself deep into unknown territory, even before my life took a turn for the fantastical. Though… to the extent that unfamiliar locales went, I could have wound up in far less scenic places than where I currently was.
Once I reckoned to myself that the coast was clear, I placed a free hand on my head and shook it, “Strange dream” I murmured, “One that I don’t remember falling asleep for” I was unsure just how much of that dream regarding the archway and the transfigured forms of the Princesses was prophetic, but I still retained a healthy skepticism about more than a few details. There was a chance that the vision was to be taken literally, but I had no way of knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt. That was one quirk I always hated about visions. They were generous on suggestions, and infuriatingly cheap on specifics.
With my mental faculties no longer solely devoted to the cause of self protection, I allowed myself to fully appreciate the scenery of the forest whose bosom I was firmly nestled in.
The bryophyte bed of moss I was previously laying on was only one of many patches that were interspersed along the forest floor, soaking up what scant sunlight managed to pierce through the coniferous canopy above me. Massive trees with trunks of great girth and dark green foliage towered overhead like otherworldly variations of the sequoias that I had seen in my youth. An almost delicious scent of wood wafted past my nostrils and stimulated my sense of smell, likely emanating from a chemical emitted by the bark on the trees that kept them resistant to rot and fire. I was no dendrologist, but I did remember learning that much from my family’s trip to see the redwood forests up north. Save for a few chirping birds nesting in the tree branches without a care in the world, there was no other visible wildlife in my vicinity, which would have been odd, had I not accounted for the fact that my sudden appearance would undoubtedly frighten off any twitchy critters. I didn’t exactly exude Fluttershy’s gentle demeanor based on first glance, which is why I was slightly caught off guard by how tolerant the animals in her direct care were of me. Oft times I wondered if their inherent gentleness rubbed off on her, or if it was the other way around.
I gave myself a once over, checking every article on my person from my clothing, to my accoutrements, and finally my armaments. Satisfied, I gave a curt nod, “Everything seems to be in order. Now to get my bearings” I muttered to myself, before recalling the reason why I needed to do so to begin with.
Deftly drawing out my Tantō, I glowered at it in agitation, noticing that the emblem on the pommel was glowing tellingly, “Damn it, you brigand of a blade! Where have you spirited me away to this time around?” I demanded of the largely inanimate object that I held responsible for the unplanned traversing of worlds that I had been roped into.
As if in mocking reply, the glimmering triangle on the pommel gradually lost brightness until it went out with a flickering sputter, seemingly as though it enjoyed taunting me. If it were living and possessed a tongue, I fancied that it would have blown a cheeky raspberry at me in parting. Realizing that I wasn’t going to be receiving any useful answers from the likes of my weapon, I sheathed the bothersome blade and set off in a random direction to find them for myself. I would have flown out of the forest for a superior vantage point, but I wanted to keep my visibility to a minimum, as I hadn’t ruled out the chance that I was in dangerous lands. For all I knew, I could be snatched up in the fangs of a Dragon the moment I cleared the canopy. So with a priority established on caution, I deigned to exercise the usage of my own two feet and go for a walk in the woods like a normal person.
Along the way, I made numerous more meticulous observations of my environment as I stuck to the winding, naturally forged trail that passed between the trees, stepping over thick roots that protruded many inches above the soil. The air was fairly nippy and each of my breaths departed from my mouth in murky vapors, so wherever I was, it was close to or in the midst of fall or early winter. But that couldn’t have been right, for none of the deciduous tree life I could make out was barren of its leaves or even in the midst of shedding them. With no obvious explanation for this coming to mind, I filed it under my ‘mysteries to be solved for later’ tab. Perhaps the chiefest of my discoveries was that the ambient magic suffusing out of the leylines in the world felt intimately familiar in the essentiality of its ‘vibe’, which was a huge relief, as it meant that I was truly back in Arcania.
I trudged through that ostensibly ceaseless forest for what must have been hours, adding I don’t know how many miles to my personal odometer. Not that my efforts were for naught. The undergrowth beneath my boots progressively changed inch by inch from the lush greenery that was reminiscent to the Sea of Trees I started out with, to brown, loamy pathways that were not adequately trodden to have been expressly reliable signs of society close by, but it was a start. It was early morning when I ventured out to navigate the flattish woodlands, and there wasn’t a thing beyond the scarcely worn forest highway that deviated enough from the norm to catch my evaluative attention.
Based on the directness of the sunlight shining downwards it had to have been near noon now, making it at least six hours of fruitless wandering amongst the underbrush, with only the cheerful tweeting of birds and the rustling of spooked wildlife to keep me company. While I was not deterred by the lack of civilization thus far, I couldn’t help but find it odd how sparsely populated this part of Arcania must have been. Mayhap I was lost in the forests of Vanclover? But how come there weren’t any woodsmen around to harvest such magnificent stocks of trees? It was difficult to say for certain. Surely I would have spotted a cabin or some traces of reclusive wood folk by now. Sans myself, these woodlands were devoid of human life.
Feeling weary and more than a little lazy, I stopped for a break near two smaller trees that were close enough together that the gap amid them would only be the tiniest bit wider than I was tall. Inspired by their proximity and my newfound weariness, I summoned my magic to strip the nearby ferns and bushes of their fronds until I had enough stringy plant fibers to fashion together a homespun hammock that I reinforced with several knots and weaved layers that would support my weight (Not that I was excessively heavy). I nailed it high into the two trees with anchoring stakes that I crudely cut from fallen branches using the ever-sharp edge of my Tantō. I figured that with no one around watching me, it didn’t really matter that I was utilizing both my magic and my wings to get stuff done. Once I was finished with my rudimentary work and successful testing of the hammock’s sturdiness, I settled back for a nice catnap with a drawn out yawn, content to find my way back to civilization sometime later.
I was able to get maybe an hour or two of some shuteye before my acute hearing picked up on distant hoofbeats not a three minutes sprint (at my speed anyhow) away from my elevated position. I cupped my lower lip and employed its angle to direct my breath upwards (a throwback habit from back when I used to wear prescription lenses that would accumulate dust particles over the course of my day) to dislodge some stray pine leaves that had drifted onto my face. I really didn’t want to bother getting up for this right now, since the air felt comfortingly crisp on my skin and the mild, crackling white noise of the trees as they swayed in the wind calmed my bedraggled mind. But I knew that convenient happenings like this wouldn’t just come to me regularly. Subconsciously and illogically flying in the face of the facts I had gathered, I fleetingly feared another repeat of what I would be referring to as the ‘Crystal City Incident’, but the tempo of the gallop was off. It did not take on the brisk rapidity that the short legged ponies were known to me for. Interesting as my time there was, I much preferred the brand of spontaneous strangeness that I had grown accustomed to in Arcania.
Cracking an eyelid open and moaning to myself at the brevity of my nap, I attempted to sit up steadily before the uneven shifting of my weight caused me to embarrassingly roll out of the hammock and plummet towards the ground at an alarming rate. Stifling a loud curse, I flared out my wings to slow my descent to more manageable levels until I made contact with the ground the not painful way. Now completely lucid and with a blisteringly fast pulse pounding inside of my chest, I quickly chastised myself for a sluggish mental processing speed upon waking from a disturbed nap and concentrated on the prospective visitors that were heading my way. I took a few deep breaths along the path to return to an even temperament as I ambled in the direction that the increasing sounds of the hoofbeats were coming from. It was definitely past noon by the time I was jolted out of my sleepiness, but there was a faint fog ahead of me that seemed more fitting to an earlier time of day. It was yet another oddity that I would have to disregard for now, for the hoofbeats (audibly more than one set, now that I could analyze them) were drawing within visual distance.
Dozens of meters off and emerging from the white screen of hazy fog like a rider in the night was a cloaked horseman, no… cloaked horsemen. There was a slightly smaller human shaped bulge protuberating from the main rider’s back, their same colored cloaks blending in seamlessly to create a single mass. It was a facet that was easy to overlook on a first glance, but there isn’t much that eludes me when it gets down to particulars. This indicated to me that there was a concealed passenger who was along for the ride. The raised black hood of the main rider hid the person’s face from me, and his (based on his discernably more rugged bodily structure) passenger was too well covered up by their cloak for likewise scrutiny. Though they were notably listing to the side, making me suspect that they were either asleep or otherwise not amply coherent to right themselves.
Interestingly, the fog bank seemed to be ensuing in the wake of the rider, seemingly manifesting itself out of thin air. The glowing bulb at the end of a smooth, wooden, black walnut staff held in the rider’s free hand hinted to me that he was conjuring it (Which would be a great feat of Stellar Mage magic, as only Valkyrians could ordinarily manipulate the weather with such practiced ease). For whatever reason, the rider felt it necessary to keep both himself and his companion out of sight, which spelled out that there was peril following them to their rears. Whoever this man and his plus one were… they were coming in hot, as if the devil himself was nipping at their heels.
Their steed had clearly seen better days, and was bleeding from multiple arrow wounds that had punctured its flanks and barrel. The damage suffered by the poor, bewildered animal looked recent, and the horse was haltingly being sapped of its ability to gallop, its strength bleeding away just like its crimson lifeblood. Despite the visual obscurity that the magically conjured fog afforded them, I heard a ‘thwip!’ as another arrow soared diagonally out of the mist, finding its mark in the crippled steed’s neck. The already wounded creature uttered a gurgled shriek of pain before collapsing mid gallop in a cloud of dirt and dust, launching the passengers from its bareback saddle and onto the forest floor.
The rising and falling of the horse’s blood streaked barrel became weaker and weaker before it let out a heart-wrenching whimper of a whinny and gave up the ghost. With the man’s spell abruptly disrupted, the mist leisurely broke apart to reveal over a dozen more riders cloaked in grey in pursuit of their hapless quarry. They slowed to a total halt just shy of the downed duo, giving off the impression of a pack of wolves appraising their helpless prey before going in for the kill. Very much aware of the dangerous nature of the situation, I turned side face and observed from behind a tree trunk not far from the lot of them, inhaling and exhaling through my nostrils to reduce the telling vapor signature. Not that these precautions seemed necessary, with how distractedly fixed the belligerents were on the man and his companion.
‘Well, that’s just wonderful. Even when I don’t go looking for trouble… and Lord knows I don’t, trouble somehow finds me anyway’ I momentarily groused before activating my True Sight, intangibly reaching out with it and tagging each of the armed riders that were hunting whoever these individuals were. The spell painted their outlines appropriately; adumbrating them in gray as dangerous hostiles and even allowing me to see them past the solid material of the tree I was using to eclipse myself from being spotted. It was the closest analogy to Eagle Vision I could compare it to, but without the need for precursor DNA in my genes.
A few of their number subconsciously twitched when I affixed a ‘locator’ to their magical signatures, which was a sure sign that there were Stellar Magi in their ranks. They would not be able to diametrically perceive that it was me covertly casting a spell on them, since that would be the equivalent of discerning the origin point of a natural breeze (or an artificially blown one, in regards to my spell) with your eyes blindfolded. This revelation as to their clan type, when paired with everything else I’ve encountered up to this point, only made the abstruseness of my circumstances more convoluted with every passing moment.
Three of the hostile horsemen to the fore of the gathering were carrying crossbows, sitting up proudly on their saddles as they gazed upon their apprehended marks. They were undeniably the ones who so mercilessly bled and slayed the steed conveying the man and his partner. Don’t get me wrong, I do not have a singular soft spot for animals in distress, but it was clear to me from their lethal accuracy earlier that these crossbowmen were simply toying with their soon-to-be victims. That kind of wanton maliciousness absolutely disgusted me, and my desire to see it put to an end burned in my chest, frenetically clawing to get out.
The rest of the company were packing with them an assortment of Kopis style curved swords, one handed axes, truncated Pilum like spears, and one or two that were even unarmed (But by no means disarmed). True Sight couldn’t tell me anything else about their physical characteristics through the cloaks without further scanning, but there wasn’t any time for that. The black cloaked figure they were chasing got to his feet with a groan and visually checked to see if his companion was all right. Whoever they were, they were laying quite still. But they seemed to be alive, if the cloaked man’s relieved reaction was any indication. He then twisted to face his aggressors, staying close to his unconscious companion and hovering over them protectively.
“You’ve made for some enjoyable sport over the previous week, wizard” One of the bellicose horsemen ‘complimented’ his quarry, “But we’ve been made wise to all of your tactics, all of your itinerant habits, and all of your tricks. It’s how we were able to track you down and brush away your attempts to ward us off in Kellian’s Pass. Looks like it’s the end of the road for you… both of you” He gestured to the slumped figure next to the obscured man with a crooked finger. My brow furrowed in thought. I had never read about such a pass mentioned on any of Arcania’s maps.
“Please, you must listen to me! All of you!” The black cloaked man pleaded futilely in a desperate yet still venerable voice that was strained by fatigue, “My quest to find the chosen heroines that will unite our lands and bring peace is of the utmost impor-”
“Shut up” A burly looking horseman who had removed his hood rudely cut him off, “There’s no hope in delaying the inevitable. Our Lord of Chaos will unite these lands under his rule. Not some prophesized wenches cooked up from some decrepit, ancient hags’ fever dreams” His meaty hand gravitated over the weapon resting on his belt in a minatory manner, “We’re here to ensure that your quest reaches its end here and now” He menacingly declared, baring his poorly maintained, rotting teeth.
‘Lord of Chaos? Now who do I know of that fits that description?’ I mused, speculating on the authenticity of the bizarrely dressed bureaucrat’s ‘reformed’ status.
I had heard enough to act on with that one statement. Knowing that the man and his companion’s chances of coming out of this encounter alive were dwelling somewhere in the single digits without some outside assistance, I decided to intervene. Even if it meant putting myself in harm’s way, I had sworn to use my power to protect the virtuous from evil. Presumptuous as it was of me to assume the hunted party’s innocence, they resembled the ‘good guys’ more so than the other people here in their actions. If nothing else, I knew who my enemies were. And… maybe there was the teensiest bit of a hero’s complex having a hand in my choice of playing in the role of a defender.
Drawing the beaked hood of my robes over my head and masking my face in shadow, I stepped out from behind the tree and calmly approached the collective group, “Is there some problem here?” I rhetorically asked, splitting the armed men’s attention off the wizard and placing it on me.
The cornered man received my appearance with mild panic, “Are you mad, boy!?” Were the wizard’s first, wobbly words to me, “This matter does not concern you! Run, before you go and get yourself killed!” He directed in an authoritative tone that was clearly cultivated from instructing on a regular basis.
In spite of the wizard’s warning, the men on horseback had other plans for dealing with me.
“Cross wants no witnesses” The presumable leader of the group spoke up with his gravelly voice, lazily taking notice of my presence and thoroughly dismissing the true threat that I represented to his gang, “Dispose of this interloper as well as the wizard’s bitch, but bring the crafty man in alive and as… unspoiled as possible. Our Herald of Chaos desires to catch up on old times with his aged mentor himself” He bid his subordinates with a wave of his moleskin gloved hand. I sent a dry look the wizard’s way (not that he could see it beyond the hood) as a way of saying ‘Looks like it’s my business now’.
“You heard the boss! No loose ends!” Announced a lieutenant as the men drew their weapons in affirmation. The ones carrying close combat weapons dismounted from their steeds, likely to make good on taking whoever the ‘old man’ was in alive. Concurrently, the mounted crossbowmen rose their primitive looking, pull lever action weapons and took aim at me.
The man they hunted regarded me with resentful acceptance, “Do you know how to fight!?” The exhausted old man questioned me, sounding like he considered me another person he would have to look out for. In his defense, he struck me as being legitimately worried for my sake, designating him as a true friendly in my book.
“Were things about to get ugly for you?” I questioned in return, to which he nodded begrudgingly, “Then they are about to get significantly less ugly” I grinned at him, flourishing the hilt of my Mage-blade and causing his exhausted eyes to widen in surprise as the fragments assembled themselves from out of my robe tassels before affixing themselves to the hilt.
The shock made for less of a stunning impression on our mutual enemies however, and the crossbowmen promptly let fly. With lightning fast reflexes honed from hours of practicing for scenarios like these, I used the flat of my blade to deflect the projectiles away from myself with a trio of outward pushing motions. It wasn’t as elegantly done as if I was a practitioner of Form Three Soresu, but my primitive attempt to emulate the style was sufficient enough. Taking me more seriously, the leader made an aggressive signal with his hand and pointed it at me. A modest number of his troop dismounted and charged towards me with their weapons brandished.
An axe wielder actually hurled his weapon at me like a tomahawk before any of his fellow thugs could close the gap separating us. I tossed my Mage-blade into the air and pulled what I called a Malthael on him, redirecting the force of the projectile by inserting my hand between the beard of the blade and the shaft, spinning with the weapon to impart some extra centrifugal force on it, and forwarding it back to the thrower’s direction where it landed with a wet splattering noise. I deftly caught my Mage-blade in my left hand as my defeated opponent sank to his knees and keeled over, his own weapon buried deep into his chest.
My training sessions with the shadow puppets were extensive to the degree that I had been prepared for most incursion scenarios, I even got creative with some countering techniques, like I had just shown. I hardly even registered the fact that I had killed once again, not really perceiving my enemies as men, but fleshy forms of the same shadow puppets I had crossed blades with on countless occasions. My audience wasn’t as amused at my display of skill though, and I was soon enveloped in a live fire test of how many weapons I could parry at once. Fending them off was effortless for me, since my instincts were developed to be all but second nature as I parried, exercised some footwork to prevent the need to fight on two fronts, and repeated.
One of the biggest advantages to using True Sight was that people I had tagged did not have to be in my line of sight in order for me to be aware of their position in space relative to myself. In demonstration, I blocked a sword swing from behind me without even batting an eye at the perpetrator. Thrusting out an uninhibited kick to my rear like a donkey, I shattered the man’s knee and sent him falling back onto the earth with a throaty cry of pain. A sideways somersault coupled with a midair dip of the tip of my blade into his heart put him out of the fight for good. Their second casualty sustained before even a minute had elapsed, the medieval era dressed highwaymen were beginning to realize that I was no ordinary passerby. The leader on horseback barked out some additional orders and sent the rest of his cronies to take me down.
The next man to reach me swung vertically and I moved to block his axe by the iron encased haft. His strike had ample power behind it to budge me from my flexibly firm stance, which told me that he must have possessed the strength of an Agrarian. A hidden blade to his exposed heart coupled with a Spartan kick to his groin proved plenty lethal for him to kindly get out of my way so I could greet his buddies in a similar manner. The next idiot to try his luck found it wanting as I locked blades with him, used his own momentum against him, and pulled back as I let him fall onto my sword. I would have made a joke about his brutish behavior being his own downfall, but I doubted the others would see the humor in it. I dislodged my sword and rolled away just as another axe user created a slit in the earthen floor where my head was only milliseconds prior. I hacked at his vulnerable left leg and lopped it off just under the kneecap, sending him tumbling down to meet my hidden blade in the side of his throat. I was rapidly thinning their numbers, but there were yet scads of them left for me to kill.
The fighting prowess of these apparently Arcanian men was nothing special in my eyes, maybe equivalent to lower mid level settings whenever I practiced with Smoky’s semisolid illusions. They employed elementary maneuvers, had poor coordination, and resorted to generic attacks patterns when I repeatedly thwarted them. All of which were a sign that these enemies were not battle hardened, and therefore could not cope with foes that could repulse them through force of arms, let alone versus a Trifect like myself. A parry followed up with a staggering strike to a vital area was usually sufficient to debilitate them, and two or three would tear the leather armor enshrouded underneath their cloaks asunder and kill them. Many times I would swing forcefully enough to cleave men in twain outright, which had something of a fear inducing effect on their friends, making it easier to predict their disorderly, scattered movements and dance around them while imprinting bloody messages in their backsides.
The initially confident expressions on their faces fell as their once imposing numbers were thinned one by one. I vaguely heard one of them mutter that I fought like a demon unchained from Tartarus, which I found to be somewhat cute, at least before I exploited an opening in his defenses and beheaded him with a diagonal slash. A nimble spearman who had managed to outlast most of his friends vainly thrust his weapon at my midsection several times before swinging at me horizontally, wildly hoping to catch me unawares and knock me down. I corrected his faulty rationale by stopping his weapon by the shaft with a free hand and breaking it in two with a chop of Dichotomy. I pivoted with the sharpened half of the broken weapon in hand and jammed it thoroughly between my opponent’s ribs, putting him down like I had done to so many of his fallen comrades.
The crossbowmen had reloaded their clunky weapons and were zeroing in on me again, so I smashed through the guard of that stout fellow with the rotten teeth from earlier and stunned him with an upward pommel strike to his chin before grabbing him, forcibly rotating his bulk in their direction as they loosed their payloads, and using his generous mass as a meat shield for the crossbolts coming my way. The crossbowmen that were still perched atop their horses must have been especially heartless, since they didn’t even care that they had just turned their compatriot into a human pincushion. Instead they busied themselves with another reload while nervously cocking their bowstrings back with some kind of hand operated cranking device. I punished them by shattering my Mage-blade and sending a wave of its fragments speeding towards them like a shotgun’s flechette round, introducing multiple new breathing holes for them to enjoy as they limply slid off of their oddly unfrightened steeds. The animals must have been very well trained, as all of this bloodshed hardly seemed to affect them.
I spared a glance at the wizard to see how he was holding up. The staff wielding man was no longer cloaked from head to toe (‘He can’t be wearing what I think he’s wearing, can he?’) and was doing his best to trade magical blasts with the duo of unarmed belligerents I saw earlier, who were counteracting his spells with the same ease that he was counteracting theirs. Unfortunately, the volume of fire he was receiving was minutely lopsided in the enemy’s favor, and he was being beaten back by moderate degrees. Further jeopardizing his perpetually precarious position, he sacrificed his own safety to throw up barrier spells around his female companion to ward her against the relentless barrage aimed at taking her out. I remedied this by reassembling my Mage-blade and making a mad dash towards his attackers.
The warlocks noticed my approach and were forced to divide their fire, not that I couldn’t block any of the malignant magic missiles coming my way with the ever useful magic nullifying edge of my trusty weapon. One of the wizard’s retaliatory stunning blasts struck the auspiciously preoccupied man I was charging at and he fell to one knee, struggling to rise up and defend himself against me. His hands wavered as he endeavored to collect his wits to cast one final, vengeful spell towards the wizard’s prone companion, a scenario I could not allow. I solemnly verged upon him like the Grim Reaper itself, where I positioned Dichotomy against where the Adam’s apple of his neck would be in an almost delicate fashion.
A faint, emotionally charged period of hesitation passed before I roughly yanked his head against the everlastingly whetted edge in a coup de grâce, cutting deep enough to sever his carotid arteries and water the earth with his blood. He slumped to his side and unsuccessfully tried to stem the blood loss with his palm as he peered up at me, his hood peeling in recession to reveal his wrinkled face. It was a face that would not be unsuitable for that of a venerated Stellar Mage grandfather, not like the featureless apparitions that I dueled with on the training grounds and was equating these men to. I stared into his fearful eyes as the life faded out of them with every beat of his heart, before it ceased altogether. I felt nothing at the poignant, abrupt ending of his life. No regrets, no vacillation over choosing a more peaceful solution, not even angst about what I had become without my ken.
Not a damned thing.
‘My God… what is wrong with me?’ I brooded, wondering just how inhuman my absence of compassion made me. I always knew that I had sociopathic tendencies, but this opened my eyes to how far gone I was.
One of the other mages got in a cheap shot while I was turning in place, striking me in the shoulder with a magical blast that stung like the dickens and made my muscles there twitch (think white hot needles from the nematocysts of a jellyfish’s sting for comparison), but did not impose any physical damage from what I could tell. Thanks to Twilight’s propensity for using a sundry assortment of various, usually harmless spells on her friends for both testing and teasing purposes (this included me, somewhat to my chagrin), I had determined that I had a passive resistance to all foreign spells that were cast on me without consent, though that didn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t cause me pain if they were intended to harm. I figured that the mage hit me with a stunning spell that was meant for the wizard in his sheer desperation to bring me down. My inmost turmoil forgotten, I glared balefully at the offending Stellar Mage and encompassed him in my magic with an outstretched hand. He tried to rebuff my intangible influence with his own magic, but it was no more to me than the flailing of a salmon trapped in a bear’s securely locked maw. My magic tightened around his neck like a noose as I slowly strangled the life out of him.
His pathetic coughing and sputtering sounds unexpectedly garnered the wizard’s mercy, and he laid a hand on my shoulder as he stood beside me, “Don’t give into such reckless hate” He begged in a supplicating tone, “Permit him a swift, painless end. Please” He appealed to me, petitioning clemency for a man who was attacking him not ten seconds past.
“Fine” I agreed, channeling my inner Darth and clenching my hand into a fist, snapping his neck and granting him an all expense paid trip to whatever afterlife awaited him. The visible wince from the wizard as I did so hinted to me that he was not accustomed to such senseless violence.
“We have other pressing matters on our hands, at any rate. There’s still one more of them left to deal with, in case you didn’t notice” I pointed out to my hat donning, undeclared ally.
Speaking of whom, the lonesome leader was already beginning to gallop towards us on horseback, clamping his curved sword in a white knuckle grip and sporting a mien of shocked outrage and disbelief in his yellow eyes that betrayed his apprehension at how his comrades were so handily dispatched, as if they were merely chaff to be blown away in the afternoon breeze. I pulled out my Tantō with my right hand after switching Dichotomy to my left in response to the rabid rush. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I kissed the flat of the shorter blade before I sent it magically sailing deep into his steed’s skull, piercing its brain and killing it instantly. The slain creature tumbled down appropriately and the leader of the gang was cast at my feet in a heap.
Before he could scramble onto his feet and try anything stupid, I gave his sword wielding appendage an expeditious kick for good measure, disarming him and probably fracturing a few bones in his hand while I was at it. The now familiar wizard held out his staff to obstruct me before I could reasonably follow up on ensuring his demise. Satisfied that I was holding myself in check, he crouched down to the defeated man’s level and conversed with him.
“There’s no need for you to join your men in the shadow-lands” The wizard said simply, “Go back to your master and tell him to call off the hunt. I won’t be as forgiving the next time he attempts to subvert my aspirations to see our despondent people united under a harmonious reign” He evenly stated his terms as he bopped the cerulean haired man on the head with his lambent staff, making it clear that he meant every word.
The fuming leader grit his teeth and snarled at us, “I spit on your mercy, wizard! Cross will have your head for this, all of your heads!” He spitefully vowed before getting to his feet and running off to mount a fresh horse that one of his associates no longer had any use for. With a last venomous glare at us (myself to be specific), he beat a hasty retreat, disappearing into the leftover fog that had lingered from the wizard’s nifty spell. My True Sight ‘locater tag’ on him was active for a handful of meters before shorting out, lastly notifying me that he was heading northbound.
I watched him leave with a conflicted contortion on my face, privately knowing that he would represent a problem in the future. I wanted to do the same to that bastard as he tried to do to me to mitigate the premonition churning in my gut, but my tense body language was easily read, and a warning glance from the wizard told me to leave him in peace. Not wanting to get on anyone’s bad side before I could get a head start on wherever I needed to go, I regretfully obliged. I pacified myself with the fact that I could always kill him later if he was unwise enough to show his recognizable face to me again.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to chew the wizard out though, “Why did you let him go?” I queried with a frown as I retrieved my Tantō from the recently departed equine’s skull, mouthing a wordless apology for having to take its life, “Don’t you know that he’ll only report back to his bloodthirsty boss, be killed for his failure, or be sent back out with even more men? Either way… your mercy is going to come back to bite you in the ass” I criticized while wiping the bloodied blade on the coat of the dead creature and putting it away when it was clean. After that was done, I broke apart and sheathed the blade fragments of Dichotomy into the specially sewn pockets of my robe tassels where they came from and hooked the hilt for it onto my belt.
The wizard coolly dismissed my cynicism, “There are other alternatives to fighting, young man. Therewithal… if he does return looking for us, I’ll be well aware of it. As well as of his origin” His staff briefly glowed in emphasis and I finally understood what he did to him when he touched him with it.
“A tracking spell?” Despite my efforts, a grin appeared unbidden on my lips, “I must hand it to you, old man. You’re not as naïve as I thought”
“And you are a mite more observant than half of the students I’ve trained in the past ten years” The man replied in good humor, “You have my gratitude for appearing when you did. As you could likely tell, Tough Cookie and I were in a bit of a bind before you came along. Though it was very foolhardy of you to so recklessly endanger yourself for the sake of a stranger and his traveling companion” He lightly lambasted me, albeit the indebted expression on his face was an obvious tell that my help was all but a godsend to him.
“I have a weakness for aiding those in need, and the world could do with less of their kind to plague society” I unabashedly admitted with a shrug, apathetically referencing the deceased thugs whose bodies were beginning to cool, “You’re lucky I was around when you two ran into trouble. These brigands weren’t highly trained by my standards, but they weren’t pushovers either. Your companion could have been killed, and a worse fate would have awaited you in the grips of their grimy hands” I halfheartedly bragged while multitasking by sifting through the belongings of the dead men littered about the ground. Video games had the practical concept of looting the corpses of those I’ve killed automatically drilled into me by now.
“I’ve no doubt about that. You cut them all down as though they were no more than young saplings” The wizard observed with awe and a faint trace of cautious fear in his voice, “Your alacrity with a blade is astounding! I would deem it almost unfair to fight against an opponent of your caliber one on one”
“Quick tip for you, old man” I commented as I rummaged through some more possessions and collected what I deemed useful, “If you ever find yourself in a fair fight… it’s because you did something foolishly honorable, or because something has gone terribly wrong. Both are resultant of your own mistakes and faulty foresight” I wittily quipped, though it held a grain of truth to me.
“An interesting, if not sardonic viewpoint” The wizard considered, “But while I express allayment at your expedient interference, I find your unbridled ferocity in combat to be rather unsettling” He glanced about at the carnage, particularly shying his eyes away from the bisected bodies of the men I had carved a bloody swath through.
“In a kill or be killed situation, I find it best to kill with extreme prejudice. It sends a resounding message that I am not to be trifled with. Though I doubt the man you just spared will be all that honest with what he saw in his report” I replied, scoring a medium sized tanned leather purse filled with thick coins that had square punched holes in the center. I added it next to my munny pouch since the local currency could possibly come in handy later, “Besides, it’s nothing that my conscious can’t handle at this point in time” I facetiously mentioned, my jadedness returning to the forefront of my mind.
He clutched his staff in both hands and leaned against it, “Then I worry for you… my newly made acquaintance. But I shall not judge you beyond that, thanks to the selflessness you have displayed this day” He shook his head, the bells of varying composition on the edge of his hat jingling with the motion.
Meanwhile I had scrounged up what little I could find, feeling a slight sense of bitterness that there were no scrolls or documents of sorts on any of the bodies that could tell me who attacked us or what their endgame was. With that stewing in the backroom of my mind, I stood up straight and gave the wizard my full attention. He backpedaled marginally as he beheld me; my towering height made apparent to him not that our lives weren’t presently on the line. As a prudent afterthought, I decreased the obscurity that my semi enchanted hood lent my countenance, so that I would not appear as some shadowy specter in robes that had a sinister aura about him, but without revealing that I could cast magic without a focal gem.
“Your name is Starswirl, I presume” I faked having an inkling to his identity, though I knew this legendary historical figure more than I let on to the man himself.
The legendary wizard who was destined to mentor Celestia and Luna and groom them for actualizing their full potential was more or less exactly as I figured he’d be, with some negligible differences. His beard wasn’t the same pristine white that I had espied in numerous portraits of him back in Concordia’s Castle hallways, but there were small telltale strips of silver strands in his greyish beard that informed me that he was gradually getting to that stage of senescence (Though both Celestia and Luna maintained to me that he only got more powerful with age, in mental acumen and arcane might). I’d estimate his years to be in the late forties to early fifties. He had an analytical face that was in the early phases of wrinkling, though his laugh lines were a prominent feature that indicated that he enjoyed seeing the brighter things in life. There was a spark in his eyes that was difficult to pin down, but it articulated about an inner integrity that was not afraid of doing the right thing.
His iconic wizard’s hat lacked a few of the pattern embellishments that Twilight’s prized replica exhibited and even displayed original designs, such as the disparate bell metals and a swirling pattern of stars on the topmost and bottommost portion of the brim. This meant that his current hat was a precursor to a latter one, or that certain specificities were lost to time (In Twilight’s defense, it was pretty much almost exactly alike).
While he did not possess an impressive stature, there was something about the masterful bearing of this man that engendered respect and deferential admiration, even when he was laden with enervation. Of course, my impression of him might have been tainted by reading about his many exploits in the history books coupled with the reverential way that Twilight spoke of him as one of her foundational role figures. On his forehead was the most curiously shaped focal gem I had ever seen, with it taking on the form of an argent spiral galaxy. On an unrelated note… he reminded me of a carbon copy of Gandalf (or Olórin, if you want to get feisty about pertinent correctness), and I just couldn’t shake the resemblance no matter how hard I tried. There was some Dumbledore thrown in too, if one counted his aversion to using lethal force to achieve one’s ends.
His brow furrowed as he regarded me with hidden shock, “How did you deduce my identity so quickly?”
I flicked a finger in the direction of his head, “That bell strung, pointy hat is a dead giveaway” I dryly indicated, “That… and you just confirmed it for me anyhow”
I saw him fluster as he pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes, “Erhmm…” He cleared his throat in embarrassment, “Well then, who are you? And why did you aid Tough Cookie and myself? Beyond your noble notion of altruism, that is?” He dubiously expressed, as if he suspected me of fostering an ulterior reason for me being there.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I was simply a roving traveler, and that our meeting was most likely just a coincidence?” I posed innocently.
His eyes narrowed, “Hrmmf! I do not place much stock in random coincidences, especially these days. But since you’ve aided us in our hour of need, I’ll trust that you mean us no harm” He said with a forbearing harrumph, “Fine. You can keep the reason for your fortuitous presence here to yourself, but may I at least have the privilege of knowing your name, since you overtly know mine?” He politely requested.
“Call me Zenith. Arbitrary Adventurer Extraordinaire!” I borrowed a line from Daring’s book, extending my arms outward like an overly proud peacock
He scoffed at my hammy self flaunting, “Adventures are not what they once were, though I admit that I am on a quest myself” He laid a hand against his chest.
“So I’ve heard. What is your objective specifically?” I inquired out of sincere interest.
“You ask some dangerous questions for one who claims that ours is a chance meeting” He swerved from the subject, his observing eyes scanning me for telltale signs of duplicity.
“I’m an inquisitive guy” I shrugged unapologetically, “And I never directly claimed that I believed random chance dictated the terms of our tumultuous first meeting, now did I?” I smirked at him.
“Hmmf!” He huffed again, shaking off his tattered (likely damaged in the spell-fire exchange) black cloak, with dark blue robes transferring in their place, “You remind me of one of my more headstrong apprentices now serving in the Royal Court of the Stellarian Kingdom. Clover always did have an inclination to firing off droll comebacks” He grumbled crankily.
“I’ll take that as a compliment?” I demurred, not strictly knowing what he meant by that. It was then that I noticed a crimson stain on his right sleeve and other parts of his garments, “Are you hurt? There’s blood on you” I gestured to the reddish flecks soiling his robes.
Starswirl glanced back at his companion in dismay, “It’s not my blood” He confuted gravely, before making his way to their side.
He pulled back the hood on his companion’s cloak to reveal an auburn haired woman with freckles bestrewn over her elevated, rosy cheeks. She bit down a hiss of unease as Starswirl sat her up beside the dead carcass of their deceased steed, which permitted me an optimal perspective to scrutinize her physique more in depth. Her robust, steel cable like musculature and the glaringly obvious lack of a focal gem on her noggin made the conjecture that she was an Agrarian a safe bet. She had a delicate face, with high cheekbones, organically pouty lips, and an abnormally pale complexion (Though that last feature didn’t look to be naturally occurring). Even though they were a dime a dozen to me at this point, she would be considered a looker in most people’s books none the less, minus the nigh albino like lactescent quality of her skin.
“Your Tough Cookie is a woman? Starswirl, you absolute rogue” I complimented in a coy tone, teasing the old man for his exquisite taste in traveling partners.
He was not in the mood for it, “We have not the time for casual banter, my wiseacre of a savior. I’ve sealed most of Cookie’s external injuries, but she had sustained an arrow wound in her right arm from one of those reprehensible crossbowmen laying in wait for us at the last hamlet we were passing through. She needs the ministrations of a real healer, one who knows his medical craft” He animatedly advocated. I couldn’t see the wounded area with her heavy cloak in the way, but I had faith that Starswirl’s healing magic did the trick of stemming blood loss.
He pointed in the beeline that the two of them were making before their unfortunate assailment, “There should be another town four leagues from here, if my studies of one of the more recent Valkyrian maps were precise. I did not particularly enjoy the lengths I had to go through to obtain one such map, but the Skyborn’s bird’s eye view make them excellent cartographers” He acknowledged without concession. It wasn’t surprising that the wizard had a more tolerant view of a contending clan and saw their expertise.
“Not out of the woods yet, as it were?” I rhetorically questioned, unable to resist inserting that piece of wry wit into the conversation.
He nodded, “Indeed” He agreed, before turning to his companion, who had awakened some time during our discourse, “Can you still ride, my dearest friend?” He gingerly asked in a kind voice.
“Shucks. Don’cha worry about me none, ol’ man” Tough Cookie replied with a warm smile, though I could tell that she was suppressing a pained wince, “Ah didn’t lose too much blood in that last scuffle, and I gave as good as ah got. I reckon ah can hold on a mite longer. Fraid mah writin’ arm is gonna be useless to ya though” She weakly chuckled to make light of her situation, somehow injecting some mirth into it despite the moderate severity of her injury.
‘Goodness, it’s like Applejack dyed her hair and put on a few pounds’ I physically compared the two. Not that this woman was fat, just shapely.
He shook his head forgivingly, ringing the bells of his hat softly, “Your health takes precedence over the chronicling of my travels, Tough Cookie” He told her reassuringly, before his head twisted slightly in my direction, “And I do believe that I can convince our new friend here to lend this ‘old man’ some of his time. You will be compensated for it, of course” He declared resolutely with a sidelong glimpse at me.
“I don’t have need of nor do I want your coin, Starswirl, notably so after harvesting the copious amount of currency that our ‘mutual friends’ provided us with” I callously gestured with a thumb back to the cooling corpses that would be worm food before long, “I have nothing to otherwise occupy my time, so I figure that aiding you in whatever you’re searching for won’t be going out of my way. If I can be of assistance in any way on this valiant quest of yours, then you shall have my sword” I pledged to him with a courteous bow, racking up some chivalry points.
“How unexpectedly noble you continue to be” He repeated with his brow furrowed in rumination, “It’s certainly the first time I’ve seen a broken sword be used so effectively in combat before” He remarked with a morbid sense of comicality.
I grinned at him, “It certainly won’t be the last, given what’s hunting you. Still, I’m confident that our mutual chances of survival are quite high with us united rather than divided” I predicted optimistically, in stark contrast to my usual pessimism.
He let out a long suffering sigh, “If only those people in positions of authority shared your opinion and stopped squabbling amongst themselves like ornery children” He bemoaned.
“Don’t you fret at ‘tall, Starswirl. My sis’ will see to it that she serves alongside a competent leader for a change, one that will support our dream of unity betwixt the clans” Tough Cookie comforted him verbally, before unleashing a hacking cough that did not sound healthy at all.
Starswirl fretted regardless, though not over politics, “Why do we linger here discussing statecraft!?” He demanded aloud, “Each moment lost imperils Tough Cookie’s somatic condition!” He exclaimed, demonstrating his erudite vocabulary.
I examined her in the blink of an eye (which was clandestinely a low tier diagnostic spell augmenting my vision), “Her flesh is ghastly pallid, her muscles are losing vigor, and her body temperature is decreasing. She’s been poisoned… likely by one of those arrow tips you said she took” I noted with equal concern saturating my tone.
“All the more reason for us to depart immediately!” Starswirl shouted, “Get her onto a horse and convey her safely to the town. I will ride ahead and alert them to our predicament so they can prepare a place to treat her” He explained, walking speedily towards a master-less mare. I was honored that he trusted me with the life of his companion, but also nervous about carrying her there before whatever taint the poison afflicted her with ate away her remaining vitality.
“Wait up! I don’t know where this town is!” I called out after him. My internal compass was too useless for me to rely on to deliver Tough Cookie to safety by myself.
“Just follow the silver stream!” He exclaimed back to me, mounting one of the loitering horses and uttering something to it that made it dart away as if its tail had been set on fire. His staff flashed once and a glittering trail of silver sparkles was left in his wake. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it, but this was hardly an occasion for joking.
I leaned down to scoop up Tough Cookie, who mumbled something I couldn’t audibly hear half deliriously as I carried her bridal style to the closest horse to us. The aforementioned animal being a midnight black stallion whose coat had a bright, well groomed sheen. With a gentle heave, I tenderly lifted her onto the saddle and pushed at her backside to orient her so she would be upright. Thankfully she retained the lucidity necessary to not instantaneously fall off the horse and render my efforts in vain. Even though we couldn’t afford to dawdle, I found myself dithering as I debated in my head how I would accomplish this.
“Sumthin the matter, sugarcube?” Crooned Tough Cookie’s enervated voice, the woman lazily twisting her head at me in question at the holdup.
“What did you just sa-” I balked at the prominently familiar term of endearment, before getting my rear in gear, “Never you mind. It’s nothing, except that I’ve never ridden a horse before” I confessed to her.
‘Must be a common Agrarian sobriquet’ I thought in the meantime. The only other explanation was one that she was Applejack’s distant ancestor or something… and that would be too uncanny.
She guffawed merrily, much to my chagrin, only for it to be cut off by another cough, “A-a h-handsome feller who dresses like you do? Never having ridden a horse in his life? You give snobby, high born Stellar Mages a bad name” She poked fun at me, provoking me to roll my eyes at her playfulness. Laughter may have been the best medicine, but I wasn’t under the impression that it had anti-poison properties. I was then hit with a terrible presentiment.
‘Egad… what if she’s Pinkie Pie’s ancestor too?’ I recalled the loftily spirited baker once making mention of a possible blood relation that the rooted Pie and Apple families shared, but I just couldn’t see its plausibility. This girl however… was dangerously close to getting me to review that likelihood.
I brought myself out of it, “There’s more to me than meets the eye, Miss Tough Cookie” I replied, “Leave the presumptive wisecracks to your sister” I murmured that part under my breath, putting one foot in the stirrup and hauling myself up so I could drape my other leg over the horse’s barrel. I surrounded the succumbing woman in my arms, who settled back with an exhausted exhalation as I took the reins in my hands.
Testing my primitive linguistic affinity with animals once again, I spoke to the creature, “What are you called, horse? I get the feeling that we’ll be spending a fair amount of time together, so you better have a moniker that will stick to you like glue”
The ears of the Arabian (I had no idea what they were called here) perked up in surprise before he nickered something that somehow translated into my brain as a name.
“Your name is Night Wind, huh? Very well… then show me how you earned your name, Night Wind” I instructed in a tone that brooked no contention, “Hyah!” The horse whinnied at my beckoning, reared back marginally, and set off in a blazing quick gallop, eager to please his new owner. I figured that the other horses would be okay on their own. They seemed smart enough to stay in a herd and find their way back to morally superior people who would be their caretakers.
My first experience of riding a horse was… bumpy, to say the least. The plush padding in the saddle’s seat and the smooth material in my leggings sheltered me from chafing, but the sensation of bouncing up and down with every gait was somewhat jarring for me and my goodies. I wanted to rise in the stirrups so that the natural suspension in my bending knees would act as shock absorbers, but Tough Cookie’s frame kind of prevented me from doing that (Not that she was pudgy!). Speaking of whom, the woman was sitting limply in my embrace, struggling to stay awake. She was languidly surrendering the energy to hold herself rigid and was incrementally sinking back into my breast with the passing of each minute.
‘She’s fading fast’ I thought with distress, before coming up with a workable solution to ward her against falling into a sleep from which she would not awaken, “Hey. Try and stay conscious for me, alright Tough Cookie?” I urged her with a shake, “Tell me more about yourself, or about your family. I’d like to hear about that” I asked her, shouting over the gusting air from Night Wind’s brisk pace.
“Erhmmm…” She moaned out a yawn, “What is there ta say ‘bout me? I’m jus’ a farmer turned amateur chronicler livin’ in the shadow of her big sister, is all” She meekly degraded herself, consciously or subconsciously snuggling herself into my chest for a sense of security. Her voice was subdued to being barely above a whisper, but my acute Valkyrian senses accounted for that.
I kept my discomfort at her inordinately intimate contact a secret, “Don’t be so modest Tough Cookie. I imagine that being the chronicler to the great wizard Starswirl is a feat that only a privileged few can lay claim to” I attempted to cheer her up, with the duel motive of distracting myself from the chocolaty scent of her hair drifting into my nose.
“Jus’ how ignorant are ya of the contention between our clans, again?” She remarked disbelievingly, “If mah folks back home heard ‘bout me gallivantin’ around with Stellaria’s most controversial mage, I’d be ousted from the homestead!” She exclaimed, before being racked with another series of coughs.
“Try not to overexert yourself, Cookie” I squeezed her a little with the crooks of my arms, rethinking my decision to get her conversing with me, “We’re making good time to that town Starswirl talked about thanks to Night Wind here, where you’ll be fixed up like new” I assured her.
“Awful sweet of ya to care, sugarcube. Given how you and I jus’ met an’ all” She said before yawning, “If’n ya don’t mind, I’m gonna close mah eyes for a spell now” Before I could open my mouth and protest to that, I could sense that she was already under the influence of sleep.
Muttering a suppressed curse, I spoke to Night Wind, “I know that we aren’t fully acquainted yet, but can you hoof it any faster? I fear for this woman’s life!” I pleaded with our galloping ride. Ugh… I still had some leftover pun in me from the Crystal City Incident.
Night Wind snorted through his nostrils and complied, increasing our pace to a degree that was right under what had to be a full blown sprint for him. The shrill rush of air flowing into my ears became a screaming whistle as we rocketed towards our rendezvous location with Starswirl.
I followed that glittering stream of particles just as Starswirl instructed me to do. The wavering grains of silvery light were intangible, so Night Wind passed right through them as I steered him where we needed to go. I liked the resilient animal himself so far. He was going as fast as he could while wisely maintaining his endurance so he that would not burn himself out before we had arrived in time to save Cookie. I made an offhand mental note to get him a nice treat as a token of thanks for his efforts. Starswirl must have made a similar request of the steed transporting him, as I couldn’t see hide nor hair of him despite Night Wind’s quickened strides.
Within a quarter of an hour, the thick tree line melted away to reveal an average sized settlement in the distance, housing maybe eight hundred to a thousand people at maximum capacity. The lands surrounding the village were moderately flat, so determining the makeup of the landscape was nigh impossible without taking to the sky to see it from above; an option that was currently unavailable to me. The only land markers that were of interest were the snow capped mountains in the background only scant leagues afar.
Magiville must have been a town that honored the traditions of the past, because the stone buildings here also incorporated its signature thatch weaving into their roofs. Chimneys belched smoke as stoves or other forms of combustion devices devoured chopped logs that were doubtlessly supplied by the forest behind me to act as internal heating and cooking for the very much medieval style town. From this range, the town’s activity was in mid swing, with drab looking villagers going about their duties and bringing crops hauled on shoddy carts in from the fields to the west of the settlement. This was confusing, since a typical harvest season for the lentils, peas, oats, and barley they were collecting normally took place in the spring months.
The light drizzle-mist falling from the clouds did nothing to aid my befuddlement. What was up with the wacky weather here? It was a shame that there were no Valkyrians present to straighten things out in that department. I wondered if clan political tensions really were as sorry as Cookie implied them to be. It could… complicate my sojourn here. I tightened my grip on the reins and tugged back on them gingerly to get Night Wind to decelerate, ushering us into the town without arousing undue attention.
I would celebrate Starswirl’s fortunate success on finding the town where Cookie could be treated, but that would have been hasty of me. We were literally out of the woods now, but that still left the metaphorical interpretation for Cookie’s state of health ambiguous. I didn’t know her personally, but she seemed like an amiable gal, and I would hate to see her die simply because one of those scumbags managed to get a lucky shot on her. Secretly, I prayed that she was AJ’s or Pinkie’s ancestor or the forbear of both, since that would almost guarantee her odds of living a long and fruitful life. Then again… what if my presence here meant that history was malleable? I had no idea how my trip to a bygone era was even possible, as Twilight had explained to me that time travel spells were not only high tier, they were (ironically) only temporary. But here I was, and sufficient time had elapsed that if this was the feat of a time travel spell, it would have set some serious records that the bookworm would fawn over.
The magical waypoint dissipated just as we made our entrance into the outskirts of the village, passing by a few residents who glanced at us in curiosity and some guarded suspicion as to who we were and the nature of our business there. This was an overwhelmingly Agrarian settlement, as not one of the poorly dressed villagers (most of whom wore thick woolen cloaks of brownish coloration to fend off the chill) displayed telling focal gems on their foreheads, nor did I see any Skyborn patrolling the air and tending to the weather, which was heavily overcast. The mood of the town was kind of dreary to be honest, with the absence of sunlight giving one a hopeless sensation of destitution and hardship. I spotted the horse that Starswirl used to get here hitched to a post next to a two story building. Hanging over the doorway was a wooden sign that depicted an unusual Rod of Asclepius, with the serpent having two heads as opposed to one. The first tasted the air with its forked tongue at the top of the staff, while the second one where its tail should have been had its fangs bared as if it was poised to devour the lower end of the staff.
Night Wind intuitively understood my cueing with the reins and made for the spot where the snow white mare acting as Starswirl’s mount was tied to the post, swishing her tail to keep the insects at bay. The ground of the village wasn’t the best quality, with cobblestone pavement only being an amenity of the newer parts of town. The rest was a combination of dirt and mud that seemed frozen over from previous winters, resulting in a dry, clay like mixture that had been compacted to maximum density by footwork. I stopped Night Wind at the post and dismounted carefully, ensuring that Tough Cookie would not slip off the horse. I held her so that she lay securely on the saddle and manipulated the peculiarly adjustable reins so that I could tie Night Wind down while still granting him freedom of cranial movement. The aforementioned creature was breathing laboriously, petered out from his breakneck toiling.
I rubbed at his muzzle with a free hand in appreciation, “Superb job, Night Wind. I couldn’t ask for a finer steed” I praised him for his swiftness.
The tired equine raised his curvy neck and tail proudly and whinnied enthusiastically, happy to serve. There was a trough of water placed underneath the wide beam post, for the equestrian traveler’s convenience I assumed. Night Wind availed himself of it to quench his parched throat as I removed Tough Cookie from her perch and carried the stricken woman into the Elizabethan clinic. The interior of the clinic wasn’t proofed against the elements, and there was a chilly draft that seeped in through cracks in the walls to torment the building’s inhabitants. Bunches of herbs and other strange medicinal materials were suspended from supporting crossbeams in the first floor ceiling, giving off fetid smells that almost enough to make me nauseous, making me pity the sick or injured that were forced to recuperate here.
Beds with coarse linen sheets lined the walls, providentially with few patients occupying their mattresses. Nurses dressed in blue habits with white aprons that had squarish hoods did menial tasks such as spoon feeding their patients soups, fluffing their pillows, or washing them in round wooden tubs that did not make use of curtains to give the bather privacy. One area where the technology of Arcania had made significant advancements in were definitely the fields of medicine and bedside manner, as evidenced by what I was seeing now.
In the middle of this building was Starswirl, who was speaking to a man who was garbed like a monk that dabbled in an apothecary’s arts in his spare time. The monkish man was old; in his seventies I’d estimate, having a bald dome with thinning, whitish hair on the sides. A chain forged with metals that were of all polygonal shapes was draped around his neck. In all honesty, he rather reminded me of one Maester Luwin from a television series that I enjoyed watching prior to all of this. The two of them were facing opposite of us and the nurses were busy, so no one had noticed our ingress.
“They’ll be here at any moment, Vitalitus! Do the symptoms I’ve described to you match any poisons that you’ve treated for in the past?” He asked him, and the man (who was crushing together ingredients with a mortar and pestle) stared upward in deep meditation. I briefly mulled over whether Starswirl knew this man from before, or if he pressed for names off the bat.
“I recall more than one affliction that produced such symptoms, but I’ll need to see her for myself in order to narrow the list down” He replied in a dry yet wizened voice.
“You won’t have to wait long. We’re here” I announced, finding an empty bed nearest to the healer and laying her on it. Starswirl flanked me as we mutually worried for our companion.
“So you are” Vitalitus observed, “Let me appraise her condition and determine what assails her health” He steadily rose from his stool seat and walked with it over to the other side of her bed, his muted footfalls and his all enveloping garb giving him the impression of floating to her like a legless ghost. As he started his procedure he deftly stripped her of her cloak and the simple yellow and brown garments underneath, unveiling the bare flesh of her upper torso (Concurrently allowing me a peek at her alluring mammaries). I turned my head away out of respect, an action that the wizard gave me a funny glance for.
It was an opinion that the healer apparently shared, “What’s the matter boy? Never seen a woman’s teats who wasn’t your mother before?” He jabbed at me in vague amusement.
“For your information I have (‘Twice in recent memory’). But I was raised to respect a woman’s modesty” I responded somewhat crossly. Did they have different views on that subject back in the day? Disregarding this for now, I focused on Tough Cookie once Vitalitus had wrapped up her bosom with clean dressings.
Tough Cookie certainly lived up to her name. Her mostly naked upper body was marked with bruises, lacerations, and even signs of burn damage. Most prominent of all was the ugly, diagonal scar that extended bilaterally through both muscles of her right arm. The poisoned crossbolt had pierced both the triceps and biceps section, but had missed shattering bone by what had to be mere centimeters. I was dumbstruck by how calm she acted to me when she was concealing this the whole time I was with her. Starswirl’s magic had indeed sealed most of the wounds from bleeding perpetually, but did squat to keep them from getting infected. Angry red spots dotted much of her body, and if they weren’t treated soon they would likely develop into nasty, pus discharging wounds. The Agrarian woman did not possess my advanced healing factor, so the scars she would accumulate would be more or less permanent, whereas any that I might incur would disappear in short order. I anxiously wished that I could lend some of my strength to her, but there were too many issues with that longing. Moreover, my intuition told me that I did need to be strong for her, but not in the way that I was contemplating.
“Jeez… Starswirl” I spoke in astonishment, “I thought Tough Cookie was your chronicler, not your test subject for how much damage the human body can absorb before giving out” I criticized, averse to how the wizard let his assistant experience so much pain.
“You think I haven’t tried stopping her from putting herself in harm’s way for my sake!?” The wizard shot back harshly, “I warn people that associating themselves with me is a dangerous proposition, but they hardly ever listen. Do not hold me accountable for their reckless choices” He admonished me.
I lifted my hands in a placating gesture, “I apologize if I’ve broached upon a sensitive topic, Starswirl. Maybe this will be the blessed occasion when she realizes that trouble and you are bedfellows and heeds that warning” I reasoned.
“You clearly know nothing of the boar headed stubbornness of Agrarians” He retorted sourly, his hand wringing around his staff audibly.
“Perhaps not, but I do know that they’re a hardy stock. I have faith in her recovery now that Vitalitus here is attending to her” I declared confidently.
“I’m touched by your faith in me, but do not give yourself false hope before I make my diagnosis” The healer cautioned me, going through the motions of checking for her pulse by pressing a duo of fingers on the arteries in her neck, “She’s alive, but only just” He concluded on that front, before searching for broken bones that needed to be set.
Vitalitus was thorough in his physical examination, but did some things that did not make much sense to me. For instance, he tapped at various pressure points on her arm and hummed in thought at some mysterious finding that eluded us, along with rubbing a foamy salve on her cuts, presumably to disinfect them. He then proceeded to swab her mouth for saliva and dropped the damp cotton ball into a flask of clear solution that was contained in a medicinal drawer next to the bed. I watched with undisguised interest as the color of the fluid shifted from clear to a light purple with disturbing threads of black before turning clear again and suddenly evaporating in the flask. Starswirl must have instinctively known what it meant, because I could virtually hear the man grinding his teeth into dust out of displeasure.
‘At least the doctors here aren’t medieval morons who believe that bloodletting is effective for anything other than hypertension’ I mused, gladdened to see that this man used a form of the scientific method to identify maladies.
Almost in response to my thoughts, the healer took a sharp, scalpel like curved blade and began scraping at the scar where Cookie had suffered an arrow wound. His scratching of the scar agitated it and let blackish blood dribble out, which he collected in a glass phial. Afterwards, he called out for one of the nurses to bring him Essence of Dragonweed. A matronly looking woman complied and handed him another equal sized phial of orange liquid. In a small bowl, he poured in the substance of both phials and watched for a reaction. It came when the heterogeneous mixture bubbled violently before its volume decreased by half, leaving only Cookie’s poisoned blood remaining in the container.
“It is more dire than even I could have predicted” The healer said gravely, “I have only heard about this brand of poison from hearsay and rumor, and from the reports it is a sinister one indeed…” He uttered ominously.
When he paused, I got antsy, “Well don’t keep us in suspense! What is it?” I blurted out, gaining an admonishing thwack of a staff to my shin for my impatience.
The balding healer sniffed in mild irritation and made a raspy noise with his throat, “It is called Hartsbane, and this poison is particularly infamous for causing one of the most gruesome cascading sequences of death known to medicine” He explained, “It works by deliberately consuming the magic inside of whatever poor creature it is inflicted on in the slowest possible manner until there is nothing left to consume except the magic upholding vital functions, which are already extremely overtaxed and will be prone to subsequent failure. The poison will ensure that the odds of surviving the sudden deprivation of her body’s magic will be alarmingly fatal. The overall result is an agonizingly prolonged demise” He explicated in distressing depth.
‘That is absolutely atrocious’ I thought, morbidly resentful that I did away with those damned crossbowmen so quickly, otherwise I’d find a way to bring them back just so I could tear them a new one.
He sighed, “She is stable, but comatose I am afraid. Trapped in a subconsciously self induced sleep to conserve her bodily reserves of magic against the poison. But I estimate only a day or so before her sleep becomes eternal” He grimly assessed the number on the afflicted woman’s countdown.
“Is there a cure!?” I demanded to know, getting another reproachful thwack from the wizard simply for showing concern for the lady.
“…There is no cure that is known to me firsthand” He answered dolefully, before amending his statement while pensively stroking at his whiskery chin, “Though that does not necessarily mean that there isn’t a way to save her. But it will require the two of you to put yourselves in grave danger” He stipulated, giving us fair warning.
“I accept the risks involved, even if it means a miniscule chance of saving her life” Starswirl nodded, agreeing to undertake the unstated challenge immediately, “Albeit I cannot give permission for my unsmiling friend here t-”
“I’m in” I interrupted without waver (or waiver, for that matter), “Tell us what we have to do to nurse Tough Cookie back to health” I peremptorily adjured the healer.
Vitalitus smiled and looked at the wizard, “Where did you find this noble, hooded soul Starswirl? If I didn’t know any better, I’d postulate that he harbors certain… sentiments towards this young woman” He wryly observed, simultaneously hinting to me that he and Starswirl had some history with each other from the casual way he addressed him.
I shook my head disapprovingly at the implication, “Not for the reasons you assume, I assure you. Our nascent relationship is purely platonic” I refuted him candidly. If she was truly an ancestor of the women I was friends with in the future, then her continued survival was of the utmost priority to me.
“Make sure it stays as such” Starswirl protectively notified me with a grunt, “I am not the only one here that danger seems attracted to” He asserted, still wary of me. Not that I could blame him, a healthy amount of paranoia can keep you on your toes and therefore mostly immune to surprises.
He had raised a pertinent point though. Would people get hurt if they affiliated themselves with me? In the beginning I wouldn’t have given this moral quandary a second thought. But now that I had forged relationships with some amazing people that I implicitly valued in the highest, I could not help but ponder if I was unknowingly endangering those bonds with my ‘so called’ destiny. No… I would not fall into the trap of believing that I would be cursed with heartbreak if I got close to anyone again. My relationships were a huge reason why I would not hesitate to fight in order to protect this world from any and all evils. I shall not shy away from those who wish to know me better, nor will I break ties with those who formerly have so that I can deceive myself with the idea that I would be protecting them from myself.
“The treatment that I have devised in my head is not guaranteed to work, mind you” Vitalitus made clear, “And it will be risky to implement itself in the off chance that you both succeed in your individual tasks. Oh yes…” He mentioned as he noticed the shared sidelong glance between the wizard and myself at the keyword, “…you will each be on your own when you depart this house of healing to gather the ingredients I’ll need to craft a remedial antidote to remedy the effects of the poison burning inside Cookie’s veins. There is no time for you to accompany each other for this” He sternly evoked the sobering reminder of Tough Cookie’s limited time.
‘So it’s a race against the clock then. No pressure’ I psyched myself up for the trial ahead.
He pointed to Starswirl first, “You must travel to the marshes southeast of the Towerwoods that you have emerged from. In its waters live a special breed of leech that secrete an enzyme that has potent antivenin properties whenever they feed, a natural defensive measure against prey that have been poisoned. Bring as many back with you as you are able to do so. I would also like for you to collect a handful of caltrop barbs from the Finrush plants that flourish there” He listed his requirements.
Starswirl’s brow furrowed, “What will these caltrop barbs do for Tough Cookie?” He inquired.
He crooked his head, “Hmm? Oh, why nothing! My stocks have recently run out, and since you’ll be in the area…” Vitalitus purposely trailed off.
The wizard sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose to mitigate an oncoming headache, “If it pleases you, I suppose I can lower myself to it” He gruffly grumbled in acceptance.
“Don’t give me that look” The healer replied, sounding slightly snubbed, “Consider it a favor, from one old friend to another” He turned to me, “As for you… your task will be an especially precarious one, but you are young. You can handle it” He averred, “Half a day’s ride to the west of this town on a path that cuts through the fringes of the Towerwoods will lead you to the hilly regions of the nearest neighboring town of Fogmount. However, your objective does not exist within the town itself, but in the monumental cave network that is burrowed into the hills themselves. Growing deep in these interconnected caves are orange colored mushrooms that have tendrils protruding out of their margins. Harvest about three or four of them, their stems and caps intact. They will revitalize this woman’s internal magic, so that her Agrarian strength does not diminish after the toxins in her blood are hopefully neutralized”
“Orange mushrooms with tendrils… got it” I confirmed, jotting it down on the mental to do list.
“I would be more cautious about this undertaking if I were you. They say a monstrous Starbeast resides in the hollows beneath the earth, and many brave fools who venture into those caves… do not come out” He monotoned forebodingly.
“Then it’s a good thing that I am only one of those qualities” Was my rejoinder.
My response elicited a chuckle from the aged healer, “I am rapidly developing a fondness for this one, Starswirl. He can maintain a sense of humor even in these troubling days”
“Yes…” The wizard tentatively agreed, “I’ve yet to decide whether his aberrant attitude is worrisome, or a breath of fresh air” He opined, not knowing what to make of me so far.
“There is something else I must tell you before you go” The healer abruptly interjected, “All the reports I have heard about the deleterious effects of Hartsbane, come from far to the north over the mountains… from our people’s ancestral homeland, the Dreamy Vale”
I only barely caught it, but Starswirl’s face screwed itself up in alarmed frustration for a fraction of a second before that blank, perceptive stare took its place once more. Whatever this Dreamy Vale place was to Starswirl, it portended something meaningful to the wizard. The revelation that this poison had originated there spelled trouble in capital lettering.
“I wish you two the best of luck. Please avail yourself of whatever the town of Mirrimare has to offer, as to prepare yourselves before you set off. If any of the locals give you problems, just tell them that Pestle Plague assigned you an important mission” Vitalitus enjoined us.
“Pestle Plague?” I couldn’t resist expressing my confusion.
“My preordained name, before I took on the moniker that you know as Vitalitus. The townsfolk here do not care for titles of achievement” Pestle explained absently, rising to return to what he was doing before I had arrived with Cookie.
“About your paymen-” Starswirl began, before the healer waved his hand dismissively.
“Deem the testing of my experimental treatment for this Hartsbane poison as my payment. It’s not everyday that I see patients afflicted with a magic consuming illness after all” He commented, taking the namesake pestle in his hand and resuming where he left off.
“Come, Zenith” The wizard bid me as he turned on his heels and began moving, his staff making thumping sounds on the floorboards, “Our business here is done for now”
I leaned over to Cookie’s side and whispered in her ear, not caring whether or not she could hear me, “Hang tight Cookie, we’ll be back before you know it” I promised her, hoping to ease whatever restless dreams plagued her mind as she held out against the poison in her body.
I rejoined Starswirl outside, who was occupying himself by digging through the saddlebags that his mare came with, his staff reclining on the mare’s point of hip. Night Wind had slimmer bags on his rump, presumably to keep him lightweight as an interceptor for his previous masters. Starswirl made an “Ah ha!” expression of discovery as he withdrew a tiny scroll with a broken wax seal. He unfurled it and his eyes scanned its contents, the skin of his brow gained a few lines as he perused through the last of the letter before he muttered a curse and lit the letter alight with his magic. He then tossed it into the water trough, where the flames choked out with a sizzle.
“This is disconcerting news. What I’ve read corroborates what Vitalitus told us. These Acolytes of Chaos are operating out of a hidden location somewhere in the Dreamy Vale” He informed me when he saw the inquisitive look I was sending him.
“Okay. And what makes this relevant?” I asked, idly scratching behind Night Wind’s ears. His consequential leaning into me enlightened me that his sensitive spot was right at their base.
“My quest’s ultimate destination is the Dreamy Vale” He clarified pointedly, “There are two women up there who are making a name for themselves, praised far and wide as being champions of the people, likely in opposition to those very acolytes” He surmised, stroking at his beard.
He placed his hands on his hips and rocked to the side, “At first I believed them to be a fluke, a random coincidence. Disregarded them as being merely… simple heroines from a simple land, but the more I hear about their exploits, the more irrefutable their connection to the prophecy of unity becomes. A prophecy that Cross is determined to subvert” He growled in frustration.
“Who is this Cross? From what I’ve gathered from that hunting party, whoever he is, he seems to know you personally” I inferred aloud.
“Double Cross was among one of my many students from back when I was still mentoring the youthful heirs of Stellaria’s aristocracy in the ways of magic” Starswirl answered, without elucidating further, “All you need to know is that he’s dangerous” He imparted, passing by me and motioning with his staff for me to tag with him.
‘Double Cross huh? He doesn’t leave much of his personality up to imagination with a name like that’ I mused.
Before I shadowed the tightlipped wizard, I spoke to Night Wind, “Which are you more partial to, bud? Apples or Carrots?”
His response was a blowing of air through his nose preceded by a nicker and a clacking of teeth. I hummed in cogitation before walking to the wizard, my normal brisk pace allowing me to overtake him easily. Carrots it was.
“Do you still have that bag of coins that you… appropriated after the incident in the Towerwoods?” Starswirl falteringly wanted to know, once I caught up to him.
“Of course I do! The man I got it from didn’t need it anymore” I replied cheerfully, largely to amuse myself with his unsettled reaction at my casual tone, as though it did not come at the cost of life.
“Right… of course you still have it” He looked to the side uncomfortably, “May I request that you spare a few coins to this destitute wizard?” He pleaded, shamefaced that he was soliciting me for what he probably defined as blood money. Which was a silly sentiment, since the man I took it from was nice enough not to bleed all over the purse.
“Oh, you don’t want to go down that road with me, old man” I grinningly vocalized, “I loan shark like crazy” I advised him half jokingly. It came with the territory of being tight fisted.
“Blast it, Zenith! I need to buy bait for the leeches!” He exclaimed, drawing a few puzzled stares from the locals with his outburst. One withering glare from the wizard later and they wisely went back to minding their own business.
“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re short on coin. Who in their right mind goes traveling without money in their pockets anyway?” I snidely shot back.
“Oh… I’m unsure” He held a hand to his chin in false recollection, “Perhaps a man who hardly had the time to pack his personal effects and belongings before being ambushed at an inn that was previously marked as a secure place to stay the night!” He angrily retorted to me, “Tough Cookie and I had to fight tooth and nail every step of the way to the stables before we could make our escape!”
“That would explain why the horse you two were riding didn’t even have on a bridle” I said to myself, “Fine, I’ll lend you half of my share of the spoils” I unstrung the purse and scooped up a hearty serving of the square punched coins before greasing Starswirl’s palms with them.
“Thank you. And fear not… for a wizard always pays his debts” He vowed, taking the coins and adding them to an inner pocket that was concealed by his robes.
“I thought only Lannisters did that” I referenced humorously, even though no one would get it.
“You mystify me, Zenith” Starswirl muttered, “But I do not have the time to inquire about your peculiar sayings. We must secure ample provisions for ourselves and for the journey ahead. I’ve innovated spells for the filtration of water, but foodstuffs are a different story. We should visit the local markets here and see if they have any wrapped up salt cured meat that we can supply ourselves with. It would not be amiss of you to purchase hardtack either” He added in afterthought.
“Never imagined that adventuring mandated grocery shopping” I jocosely quipped to nobody in particular.
“Needless to say, it does” He responded to me never the less, “You cannot expect to have a successful quest without factoring in essential requirements such as logistics. One can’t adventure for long on an empty stomach, naturally” He dryly demonstrated his sense of humor to me as we gravitated towards the part of town with the highest concentration of activity.
We went where the masses of villagers congregated to exchange goods, intent on making a few prudent purchases. The markets of Mirrimare were similar to those I had descried in Magiville, with each shop owner setting up their wares on top of a stand or even operating out of a storefront. Listening in on the chatter, I picked up on useful pieces of information such as what the money here was called, which was Bobs. I wasn’t sure if they had a derivative relationship to the shilling when it came to value, but a palm full of the coins could net you half a bushel worth of carrots, based on the witnessing of one such transaction. They roughly equated to Bits in my mind, although the coins weren’t gold, nor were they stamped out of any kind of precious metal (They were iron casted coinage).
All the while, folks were giving us stink eyes or eyeballing us with mistrust as we passed, poorly hidden disdain evident in their gazes. I comprehended that we were overtly apparent as outsiders, but I was not expecting this brand of cold reception. I was innately ill disposed to having so much attention focused on me, and my fancy clothing and lofty height made it difficult for me to blend in, so I was at a lost for how to shake off the rebuffing atmosphere pressing in on me. Starswirl must have been used to being regularly received with contempt, because if this negative welcoming bothered him, he showed no sign of it.
Our presence did not disturb the flow of the micronized economy though, and the market was alive with the advertising verbalizations of mercantilism. From what I had heard in the first few minutes, some of it was less than scrupulous.
“Have a look at Tepid Tincture’s wares! Suffering from gout, goiter, or general soreness in your achy limbs? Got plenty of cure-alls for all that ails ya!” A ratty looking man with whiskers in desperate need of trimming peddled his wares, holding up a vial of snake oil in one hand while pushing his cart in the other. There weren’t many takers, but the rat faced man grinned happily whenever he swapped vials for coins.
“Are there people around here who are really so gullible that they would part with their meager earnings to buy into that farce? A visit to Vitalitus is the smarter choice” I gave voice to my thoughts.
Starswirl perceived my point and offered his insight, “You’d be surprised with how popular false remedies are in these lands. I remember that there were several back in my castle-town of Starwick who swore by its curative effects, strangely enough” He spoke in an incredulous tone, hardly believing it himself.
“The placebo effect is the true acting force behind that” I corrected him, “But it’s still shameful that men will say whatever people want to hear just so they can get them to untie the drawstrings of their purses” I scowled at the con man peddling vials that would have the restorative powers of donkey piss.
“People must put food on their tables, Zenith, and not only for themselves. While I share your opinion on using trickery to profit one’s self as being undesirable, I also understand that it is either that or the alternative of starving for many people. I do not condone it by any means, but I understand” He commented compassionately, sounding appalled at the lackluster conditions of life for the Agrarian people living here.
“If you ask me, that one looks too sketchy to have a family that doesn’t entertain the same opinions about him” I denigrated the salesman. I could only see in him a rat that had swindled somebody of their money dishonestly.
Starswirl sighed sadly, “You must have been a very sheltered soul if you’re learning about this just now”
“In a manner of speaking, you’re right about that. But I’m not blind to injustices when I see them” Was my rebuttal.
“Then by all means, go ahead and expose him for all to see” He gestured with an outstretched hand to the rat man, who was busy sniggering as he counted the coins in his hands.
I gave him a flat look, “I may be rather idealistic at times, but I wasn’t born yesterday, Starswirl. Even if I did that, I would only make more enemies than friends with this biased audience watching. Sometimes I’m forced to put these issues to the side and deal with what I can. It’s not a blind eye by any means, but it’s the next worse thing”
“Then you know what it is like to live as myself, promulgating a cause that scant few can see the merit in, with even fewer to stand by me” He related somewhat despondently, before perking up, “But those who do give me the strength to see our shared dream come to actualization… and those women in the north are key to those aspirations” He repeated, starting to diverge his path from mine, “But that is for later. We are needed in the here and now. Both of us must obtain our provisions and be off posthaste. Each moment that we delay hastens Tough Cookie’s doom, and I will not have any more friends die on my watch while there is still something I can do about it” He stressed emphatically, “Buy only what you need and do not tarry! Cookie’s life is at stake” Starswirl shouted back to me as he melded into the masses before finally disappearing.
That left me to my own devices. I reviewed in my head what I would need for my trip besides the obligatory provisions for traveling long distances. I checked my depleted bag of local coins and assessed how much buying power it had, estimating it as more than sufficient for my nourishment needs with just enough leftover to spoil myself a tad. The empty weight of my belt suddenly popped into the forefront of my mind and got me thinking. If I inevitably ran into more of those chaos revering goons in the future, I would like a silent means of dispatching them without having to resort to using my Mage-blade to slice them into bloody chunks. Rarity commissioned my belt so that it included multi purpose sheathes for such weapons as throwing knives (Which was very mature of someone who considered fighting to be the ‘ghastly conduct of uncouth ruffians’). I had never trained with throwing knives before, but I could catch on quick, and having magic to guide them onto target decreased the learning curve significantly for me.
Before I could drop what I was doing and go visit the town blacksmith however, it would be remiss of me to ignore the market when I was right there. Choosing a random stand that had what I needed, I adjusted my heading and approached the counter, where a common man wearing a pointy hat reminiscent of a Robin Hood movie awaited me.
“What are the prices for your carrots?” I inquired of him, making him narrow his eyes and engender an annoyed expression on his face.
He looked me over and scoffed, having determined my archetype, “For a Rock Head like you? Twenty Bob per bunch” He all but spat at me, in a stereotypically cockney accent no less.
“That is an exorbitant amount for carrots” I indicated in monotone, not amused in the least by his blatant racism. It was also more than what I had in my despoiled coin purse.
“You look like you can afford it… Rock Head” He sneered, unmoved by my reasoning.
I pulled back my hood, and the man’s self righteous expression fell once he noticed the lack of a Focal Gem on my forehead, “Next time, think about who you might be talking to before you alienate their potential business” I rebuked him, before walking towards another stand that offered some carotene.
“No, wait a tick!” He called out, causing me to pause, “My sincerest apologies mister, I mistook you for one of those cursed Rock Heads, what with your fancy outfit and all. You can have a quarter bushel of carrots for four Bob as my way of saying sorry for being an arrogant ass” He proffered, trying to make amends to this insulted customer.
I stared emotionlessly at him for a few moments, making him fidget in place, “Throw in a burlap sack to carry them with, and I’ll accept that apology” I eventually uttered, unashamedly haggling like a boss.
“Of course, of course!” He simpered nervously as he scuttled to bag up my purchase, “Do you mind if I ask a question though?”
“Go ahead” I permitted, taking out the coins and laying them on the table, which the man swept up happily in one hand while handling my vegetables with the other. I had to give him credit; he sure could multitask.
“How are you dressed like a Rock Head? Richest Agrarian I’d ever seen was a representative of the Combine, and he didn’t look half as spiffy as you do” He noted, shoveling pound after pound of carrots into the complimentary sack.
‘The Combine? Must be the closest thing to a government that the Agrarian clan has’ I thought, as I hypothesized what government type they were. I would approve a democracy, but with the settlements so scattered around, it must have been challenging to coordinate with the will of the people if they did.
“I had a good seamstress make it for me by hand for an inexpensive fee. I’m also fairly sure that there’s love embroidered into these robes with every stitch” I jestingly answered with a curtailed laugh. Though it might have been closer to the truth than I was downplaying for kicks, with how fawning Rarity was with me at times.
“Wow,” The vegetable selling man marveled, “how can a woman like that keep her business afloat?”
I chuckled, “You know, I asked her the same thing myself once. She told me that she manages, but I’ve come to suspect that she secretly runs a racketeering ring on the side to drum up some extra coin to maintain her expensive tastes” I pulled his leg, but he took me at my words literally.
His eyes corkscrewed as he tried to comprehend my meaning, “She sounds like quite a woman, wished my Petunia was as so- sophis- sophisticated” He enunciated with a little difficulty.
“Cherish her regardless of that” I advised him as I took the bag of carrots in my hands, “The people that we love and who love us in return are one of the few bright spots we have in this taxing life”
“You have a way with words brother” He lauded me, “Take care now! And don’t let any Featherbrains or Rock Heads give you any grief!” He bid me farewell. Ignoring the acidic, almost canting contempt that he reserved for people he thought weren’t Agrarians; he seemed a downright neighborly chap.
From there I moved on to a nearby stand that sold paper encased salt cured pork. Virtually like a switch had been flipped by the revelation that I was not (solely) a Stellar Mage, people became a hell of a lot friendlier to me. While their deep seated antipathy towards the other two clans was worrisome, their sense of kinship within their own clan even with strangers was… refreshing. It also saved me a few coins thanks to deals that were easily driven. The only downside was that these villagers were nosy as all get-out, practically interrogating me about my well heeled state of attire, what village I came from, why I kept company with a wizard, and what I was doing to resist the oppression of ‘those who dwelled above’, which inclusively referred to the mountain favoring Stellar Mages and the cloud inhabiting Skyborn. As was the norm for me, I fabricated vague background stories on the fly that adequately put those questions to rest, while additionally being difficult to prove invalid if someone discerned discrepancies.
The history books in Twilight’s library were unforthcoming on just how badly the three clans hated each other prior to their unification under the banner of Arcania. The usual reasons that the Agrarians had to fork up a share of their crops for weather tending and the ensured rising of the sun and moon on time was still material, but was not the sole reason for what amounted to extortion of the Agrarian people. I heard plenty of sob stories from chatty locals who moved to this town to get away from raids by the Valkyrians, who offered their ‘protection’ from the Stellar Magi in exchange for monthly tributes of food, totaling up to two fifths of each harvest. This was barely enough for most villages to feed themselves and stay alive, let alone prosper in their individual trades. The towns that understandably refused had the entirety of their food taken from them by force and were condemned to go hungry.
While the Agrarians may have had the advantage in raw muscle and durability, the Skyborn employed the use of effective tactics in combat such as dividing and flanking around battle formations to harass them and keep them off balance. They were also equipped with the lightning forged steel weaponry necessary to beat down any opposition in a close in fight, which outclassed the predominantly iron forged weaponry that the Agrarians could fashion for themselves. The enchanted steel tipped broadheads that the Skyborn rained down from above could effortlessly penetrate through the wooden shields and chain mailed armor that an Agrarian man at arms typically bore when he was on the battlefield. Stellar Magi were also reviled and feared, making similar offers of protection from the Skyborn in return for edible tribute. I was especially disconcerted to hear about what they did to those who refused them, using their powerful magic to subject them to torturous pain and render them unable to fight back. Those engagements that did occur among Agrarian and Stellar Mage forces were generally lopsided, with three Agrarian men falling for each battle mage taken out.
From the looks of it, the Stellar Magi and Valkyrians were locked in some kind of fierce contest for supremacy, both in terms of territorial influence and one upmanship of the other clan. It dawned on me that the Agrarians were caught in the middle of this heated competition and were being exploited by both of the other clans, who deviously kept them under their boots to prevent them from consolidating their slightly higher numbers (which was about the only real advantage the Agrarians had that couldn’t be countered) and becoming a problem. It was nearly enough to make me feel ashamed of the wings and magic that I adored so much, but that did not mean that I disregarded my Agrarian aspect in the slightest.
It was obvious to me then and there why Starswirl sought unification for all three clans instead of abiding the grisly division that split the people apart. He may not have given me all the specifics of his quest yet, but I could tell that I was going to be a part of something game changing for this country whose name I do not know. Even though I would often label them as such, I no longer believed in coincidences. My presence here was not the product of random chance, nor was my meeting with the soon to be legendary Starswirl the Bearded. He would need someone he could trust to watch his back while he searched for these northern sisters (‘I wonder what they looked like back now?’) who were prophesized to bring an end to the bloodshed between the clans, and that person would happen to have my capable skillset.
‘Not to mention dashingly handsome looks’ My prideful side spoke out of turn.
‘Shut up brain’ I shushed it, juggling internal bickering while managing quaint outside socializing.
My shopping spree reached its terminus when one of those many people nettling me with inane questions kindly pointed me to where I could find the blacksmith. I had depleted the money in my inventory by stocking up on veggies, preserved meats, and dry biscuits for the road, but there were still some coins left for indulging on filling up my open weapon slots. Even if Agrarian weapons weren’t the best quality when compared to those made by the warrior smiths of the Skyborn, they would suit me better than nothing. The blacksmith’s shop looked no different than the majority of the stone constructed buildings in the town, though it did have a tiled roof and two chimneys of differing sizes and smoke output. The sign over the door was a generic hammer and anvil that was fading with age, so whoever operated this place must have been in the business for a healthy length of time.
I pushed the wooden door open and immediately felt a wave of heat wash over me, coupled with the smell of coals being burned. The interior of the blacksmith’s shop was spartan in decoration, but practical in its layout. Near the entrance of the building was a wooden selling counter with instrument racks behind it. The racks weren’t overflowing with weaponry, but there were a few dozen swords and axes sprinkled here and there. The rest of the implements were plow heads, trowels, sickles, and other tools of the agricultural trade. There were barrels that could be found around the shop, some filled with water for tempering, some with raw slabs of metal, and others filled with finished works. The floors of the smithy were not wooden, as those posed a fire hazard when working with heated metals. Instead they were plain dirt flooring, with footprints marring their surface from repeated treading.
The telltale sounds of labor came in the form of somebody utilizing a bellows to raise the heat of the forge’s fire. The man wasn’t as old as I initially presumed from the aged state of the sign out front, being only in his forties. He was dressed in a blacksmithing outfit that consisted of an extensive, protective apron that covered most of his long sleeved garment (Which was rolled up as to not impede the man). Unsurprisingly, years of blacksmithing work had made the red headed man fairly buff, with muscles on his arms that rippled whenever he flexed them. He was drenched in sweat, which was understandable with how well insolated his closed window shop was to the outside elements and the intense heat radiating from his forge. As an extra benefit for the blacksmith, it probably felt relieving on his clammy flesh to step into the nippy air after a good workout.
With a pair of tongs, he gripped a shortened slab of metal and partially inserted it into the roaring flame of the furnace. Using those same tongs, he withdrew a molten slab that had already been sitting pretty for some time and laid the luminously glowing bar of metal on the pointy end of his anvil. With hammer in hand, he began banging it against the anvil’s beak and bending the heated half into a U shape, occasionally laying it on the anvil to flatten it again. It was only when he began using a spike to hammer holes into the curved piece of metal that I realized that he was making horseshoes. His deft movements were quick, precise, and struck with great impetus. If his work ethic wasn’t evidence enough that I came to the right establishment, I didn’t know what was.
I was so absorbed by watching this man toil that it almost didn’t register with me that he was singing as he did so. The rhythmic pounding of his hammer was like a metronome as he completed each verse in a rich, baritone voice that bordered on bass. It was a rather melancholic song, and I idly wondered if he was singing about himself and his checkered past, or if all blacksmith’s sang to the same tune as they worked. From the way his posture sagged at the song’s ending, it was likely the former. With the heated part of the horseshoe shaped and hammered, he inserted the unfolded portion into the flame and wiped away a bead of sweat that had formed on his brow. He noticed me mid wipe and set aside his tongs, taking off his gloves and speaking to me, his voice carrying across the smithy with minimal effort.
“Are ye here to make a commission? I might not be able to get started on it until I have Mister Potato Salad’s plowshare refitted” His voice was smooth, sounding as refined as some of the metals he put through the heat of the furnace. It was also spoken with a vaguely Irish brogue, but I could have been wrong about that.
“That song you were just singing… what were those lyrics about?” I asked him, tilting my head to the side in curiosity.
He coughed into his forearm nervously, “Heard that, did ye? It’s nothing, young master. I fancy singin’ while I forge sometimes, I like to think that it imbues me metal with purpose, to give it strength” He cleared his throat, “So did you stop by to ask me about me singin’ habits? Or is there more?”
I crooked my head forward in a dip, “I’m on an errand of sorts. I was sent by Pestle Plague” I invoked the respected healing man’s name to see what kind of reaction it would get.
“The town’s foremost healer?” He expressed with puzzlement, “Why would he require me services? Especially when he thinks so lowly of me for my past actions?” His forehead creased with incomprehension.
“I sense a story there” I prodded for an explanation.
He sighed hopelessly, “I can tell that yer of the questioning variety, so I might as well get ye to hate me too” He took a deep breath, as if to steady himself and blurted, “I worked as a blacksmith for the Stellar Magi for the better half of me life!” He then braced himself, expecting a negative response that must have been customary for him by now.
A moment of silence passed before I broke it. “So?” Was my monosyllabic reply.
He gawked at me, “Bu-! Don’t ye get it, lad? I collaborated with the enemy!” He exclaimed, dumbfounded by the lukewarm reception, “I was only begrudgin’ly accepted here because I’m the only competent blacksmith this town has got otherwise!” He threw his arms out in frustration.
“Were you given a choice in the matter?” I inquired, before I passed any uninformed judgments.
“Well… no” He admitted, “But that don’ excuse what I did!” He insisted, “I enabled our clan’s enemies by fittin’ ‘em with armor and weapons!”
‘Charming how people here are automatically inclined to presume that I’m one of them simply because there isn’t a Focal Gem on my forehead. How do they tell the Valkyrians apart from themselves?’ Perhaps it was logical, since the insular Skyborn of this tumultuous period did not normally bother with settlements this far removed from the center of the clan conflict. They were soldiers, not infiltrators after all.
“Did they at least pay you well for the fruits of your labor?” I pried further, drawing closer to the man so that he did not feel the need to shout.
“My ‘payment’ was the continued survival of me wife and two daughters. If I didn’t obey… their lives were forfeit” He told me, unadulterated anguish in his eyes as my question brought up hard memories. I could only surmise what their fate was…
“Oh… I’m so sorr-” I tried apologizing, but he cut me off.
He shook his head, “They’re not dead, boyo. But I bet they wish I was. When my wife found out I was supplying the Stellar Magi with the same weapons they were usin’ to oppress our village, she nearly strangled the life out of me” He rubbed at his neck subconsciously. His wife must have been a tough woman if she could even attempt to throttle the life out of a thickset man like her husband… or were they as legally separated as they were by distance too?
“I fended her off, but she cast me out and bid me to never return” Another sigh, seeming capitulating, “I mustered up all the coin I saved at me old forge and started a new life here. The locals were friendly enough, though they stopped bein’ as sociable once they found out why I was livin’ among them. I dinnae even know if me family is still alive, or if the Stellar Magi followed up on their dastardly threat” He concluded bitterly, “Does that satisfy yer curiosity now?”
“It does” I averred, “Thank you for sharing. And don’t fall under the impression that I would hold you in ill regard. You were under pressure from despicable men who would stoop to threatening your own flesh and blood just to keep you wrapped around their finger. You have my condolences that life dealt you the bad hand that it did” I sympathized, wanting to treat this man as equitably as possible.
He pushed a palm against his face and groaned, “Save me yer pity, lad. What are ye here for? Other than openin’ old wounds, that is?” He sarcastically quipped. He was hurting, so I wouldn’t take offense at his lashing out.
I got straight to the point, “I need to plumb the depths of the hills near the town of Fogmount. There’s an ingredient hidden there in the form of mushrooms with tendrils that I need to gather so that a friend of mine can get better when she wakes up” I explained to him, “I’m not defenseless by any means, but I’d like to know if you sell any throwing knives, in case I need them” I patted my belt, particularly the concealed sheathes where throwing knives could go. My mission was of less vital importance than Starswirl’s, but mine was essential if Tough Cookie didn’t want to live as a magically deprived invalid, so I wanted to be decently equipped for it.
“Throwin’ knives, ye say?” He gazed at the rafters of his ceiling, searching his memory banks, “Aye, I had finished with a special set for a rather finicky Stellar Mage noble the very night me wife found me treachery out. It’s one of the few things from home that I took with me when I found refuge here”
He moved to the counter and sifted through its shelves underneath before pulling out an unassuming wooden box and setting it on the table. He popped the lid and revealed the six beauties that were encased inside. This man must have been working with higher quality materials wherever he came from, because the slender blades in the box were constructed out of a light grey metal that would have been identical next to my world’s modernistic knives if they were compared. They had minutely curved handles and looked to be just the perfect length for my diagonal belt sheathes at six inches. They were double edged, tapering down to a razor thin point that looked durable enough for heavy usage. Their classy grips had rubberized grooves on them for improved control and rounded ridges for an ergonomic placement of the fingers. I couldn’t be sure without holding them for myself, but I would reckon that they were center balanced and just the right weight for stability in flight. I reached out to do so, but the man slammed the box shut and kept it out of my grasp.
“Not so fast, boyo!” The smith denied me, “What makes ye think I would part with these mementos?”
“Well why else would you tell me about them and take them out if they weren’t for sale?” I reasoned, with some agitation in my voice.
He grinned, “Yer right about that, laddie. But the price tag on these blades cannae be removed by mere coins”
“Then what can it be removed with?” I took the bait, my eyes narrowing.
“Ye said that you were goin’ to see those hollows near Fogmount yeah?” I bobbed my head affirmatively, “Then since ye will be there anyway, perhaps ye could retrieve somethin’ for me?”
“What could possibly be in those hollows besides fungus and bats that would interest you?” I was at a lost for what the blacksmith wanted in the caves that were worth going out of my way for.
“Gems… boyo” He disclosed, an odd glint in his brown eyes, “Dragon hoard gems”
“A Dragon? I was apprised that I might encounter a Starbeast in the tunnels. Not an overgrown reptile” I was almost disappointed. Dragons I had seen before (a little too closely for my liking), but the Starbeasts were a phenomenon that few had laid eyes on and lived to write down what they witnessed for posterity. They were not only rare, but reclusive creatures that were made of pure magic.
He chuckled, “Oh, if yer unlucky enough, ye just might. But the Dragon’s hoard I speak of is no longer guarded by its owner, since that Starbeast is what killed it” He informed me, “Traders from Fogmount told me all about it over a pint of ale at the local tavern. They talked about how the Dragon used to be a blight upon the land, and that the Starbeast was an acceptable substitution. The two tremendous creature’s fight caused tremors that rocked the very earth itself, sure, but the scaly beasty surely lost out and became the other one’s dinner. They know this because since then, it stopped ransacking and terrorizing the region. I know for a fact that every mature Dragon creates a horde of riches to go along with its nest, so I’m askin’ you to bring back as many gemstones or other valuables as ye can find for me. Do that, and ye can have these knives of mine” He elaborated, an almost pleading timbre tinting his tone.
“What do you need these valuables for?” I naturally inquired, “I can deduce that it’s not simply for elevating the status of your wealth. You seem too humble for that” I inferred, glancing about at his unembellished, purely practical surroundings.
“Yer a keen lad, I’ll give ye that” He complimented, “I dinnae possess the means to check in on me family and see if they’re alive and well, but if they are, I’d like to get in touch with ‘em once more. Even if me wife wants nothin’ to do with me, I want our children to be happy. If I can send ‘em resources they could use to support themselves better, then I would be in yer eternal debt for it” He bowed his head to me.
He was entreating me to figuratively scratch his back in exchange for those throwing knives, but it was for a good cause, so I would agree to the terms. It wasn’t like it was out of the way for me.
‘Looks like Starswirl isn’t the only one with a side quest’ I observed humorously.
“You have yourself a deal Mister…?” I fished for a name as I held out my unburdened hand.
He took it with a firm grasp and shook it, “Rust, it’s a pleasure to formally make yer acquaintance Master…?” He fished in return.
“Zenith… and I’m not your master” I added in afterthought.
“Pardon, lad. Jus’ another habit I retained from dealing with High Born Rock Heads” He excused himself, “That, and you dress an awful lot like ‘em” He commented as an aside.
“You can thank my couturier for that” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Are ye per chance interested in anythin’ else I’ve made?” Rust gesticulate towards the racks that did display weapons, “This town is in a secure enough location that I seldom get weapon orders, but I still make a few in case of emergencies”
“No thank you, I have my own equipment on hand” I declined his alternative offer.
“I cannae in good conscious let ye leave me smithy empty handed. Here,” He reached under his counter again and extracted a pile of cubit sized sticks with ends wrapped in rope, “take these torches with ye when you go prowlin’ about in the dark. They’re soaked in a special type of beeswax that enable ‘em to burn more protractedly and brighter than most other torches” There was flint and a striker stuffed inside of the coils of one, though I would not require it to ignite them.
“How much?” I asked him, probing into my coin purse with the hand that wasn’t holding my groceries.
He waved a hand dismissively, “Take ‘em with ye for free, lad. Consider it me way of showin’ gratitude for yer graciousness and refusal to brand me a traitor, even if I rightly deserve the scorn” He insisted on being the village outcast.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, but thanks for your thoughtful contribution” I praised him as I scooped up the torches and held them in my arm.
He smiled for once, “Think nothing of it, boyo. I cannae have me one hope of reconciliation with the family wander aimlessly in the fathomless earth without a candle to guide his way, ye know!” He chortled mirthfully.
“Goodbye, Rust” I issued him my valedictory two fingered salute, “If all goes smoothly, you’ll see me again by dawn’s first light” I speculated when I’d return as I exited his shop, the cool air greeting my face indeed felt colder after spending time near the heat of the forge.
I walked at my brisk pace through the town and back to the house of healing where Night Wind, and apparently Starswirl’s horse, were still hitched to the post. Night Wind heard me coming as his ears perked up and he raised his head from the water trough to hail me with a quiet whicker. His eyes drifted to the bag held in my hand and nudged his nose against me, hungry for those carrots he enlightened me were his favorites.
“Patience, Night Wind. Let me put this other stuff away first” I stuffed the torches and foodstuffs into the slim saddlebags that lined Night Wind’s rump and took out a sizable helping of the many carrots I now had.
I offered them to my ride one at a time and he devoured them happily, petiole and everything. The mare noticed this and raised a fuss, yanking her head against the detachable reins that kept her hitched, flicking her tail, and snorting impatiently. She wanted to be fed as well.
I indulged her once Night Wind had his fill of carotene. I grabbed another helping of the thankfully prewashed carrots and came up to the mare’s side. I didn’t know what was keeping Starswirl so long, but he needed to hurry up if we were going to bring our mutual person of interest back to the world of the living.
“Hello beautiful…” I addressed the immaculately groomed mare, running my hand along her fur. Her white coat was spotless and pleasing to the touch, “What’s your name?”
Her answer was a brief horse like grunt and shaking of her silvery mane, “Daybreak huh? That’s a fitting name for you, I think” I couldn’t help but find irony in the opposite contrast between the wizard’s steed and mine, “Have some carrots. I’m not sure if Starswirl has your dietary needs recorded on his priority list, and I don’t want you collapsing from hunger simply because he was too preoccupied with buying bait for the leeches that he forgot about that” I scratched behind her ears as I delivered each individual carrot into her maw. She wasn’t as susceptible to it as Night Wind was, but I could tell that I was scratching an itch that she couldn’t reach, evidenced by the contented flopping of her ears.
The mare made a confused noise punctuated by the crunching of carrots, “You heard me, Daybreak. You two are going marsh hopping to the southeast of Mirrimare. Hope you like mud!” I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but I could have sworn I saw the mare roll her eyes.
When the last carrot was eaten, Daybreak nuzzled gratefully into my hand and nickered, her warm breath flowing over my skin, “It was my pleasure, Daybreak. Though I’m mostly trying to curry favor with my inner Fluttershy” I jested to the majestic creature, albeit she would not understand who that was.
With my business in the town temporarily concluded, I untied Night Wind from the post and mounted him. The equine was a lot more vocal about his thoughts once he discovered I was akin to a horse whisperer, wanting to know what our next destination was.
“It’s a bit far off…” I told him, “Half a day’s ride to the west, according to Vitalitus. You and I need to pay a visit to the hilly region surrounding the town of Fogmount. Do you happen to know where that is?” I inquired, and Night Wind neighed affirmatively.
I had him trot us out of the town, since there were probably restrictions on going full gallop before clearing the edge of town. Folks who knew me from the market genially waved to me as I left, seeing in me one of their own. I didn’t straighten out their misconceptions, since it was more beneficial to lie in this situation than be forthright, (Applejack would give me the stink eye if she knew about it) and returned their farewells when I could, but focused my mind of the trial ahead. I only had fairly ambiguous information to go on regarding these caves. And the main danger awaiting me was just a Starbeast… that had an earth quaking tussle with a Dragon and won handily. It had to be a big monster if it could do that. Right, so it was in my best interests to maintain a healthy proximity from the creature, my safety took precedence over my curiosity.
Once we had put Mirrimare in the metaphorical rearview, Night Wind made hoof shaped prints in the dirt as he took to the three meter wide, leaf covered, beaten trail that would take me to the neighboring town if I pursued it in its entirety. I didn’t take a genius to figure out that Night Wind’s former masters must have conducted activities in this region often if he instinctually knew where to go. I was gladdened that Night Wind’s loyalty wasn’t solely pledged to any one man or organization, but it was undoubtedly a two way street in that manner. If I were to be replaced in the same way that I replaced the man who had ridden this steed before, Night Wind plausibly wouldn’t be able to tell the difference or care. This is what mainly separated him from the little ponies that I expended a week of my life with in my eyes. Regardless of this, he was a fine horse, and I knew that he would serve me well in the days ahead.
But for now, we had to get through this day first. Night Wind sustained a gallop at three quarters of his sprinting speed and slowed to a canter every twenty miles or so. The trail we were using didn’t deviate much from its terrain features, with the gigantic trees of the Towerwoods occupying most of the scenery. The shifting sunlight shining through the canopy painted the earth in a variety of colors. Eight hours and over one hundred and fifty miles later, the sun had sunken below the horizon and the moon had risen to taken its place. Our progress was made evident by roads that were losing their flat characteristics and beginning to exhibit steepness. Despite my insistence that we stop to make camp and rest, Night Wind powered forth, like there was an unstoppable resolve to take me where I needed to go gripping him. I had no clue how he was able to see through the dimness of the evening, until I realized that he had memorized this route by heart. Why would his prior masters need to go this route so regularly?
Since Night Wind was especially determined to live up to his name, I augmented my vision to help me see in this moonlit environment. The spell worked by collecting what small amounts of light were present (the moon provided a generous portion) and using it to enhance what I could see, allowing me to spot crepuscular deer wandering in the woods three hundred yards away. This fittingly led to seeing everything with a greenish tint, just like with night vision goggles. Another hour of galloping in the night later, my steed and I had emerged from the Towerwoods and were traversing up and around rocky hills that were pockmarked with entrances into the earth. Their apertures weren’t very wide though, and Night Wind soundly ignored them as we passed on by. My night vision couldn’t portray it fully, but the landscape kind of reminded me of Rohan, with grassy expanses that were hemmed in by hills.
Before long, Night Wind had stopped in front of a monumental hill (shy of being a midget mountain really) that had a sufficiently large cave entrance for some spelunking. The entrance of the cave was not flat, having a downward slope that conducted one into the bowels of the planet. The opening to the cave was excessively bright though, and when I cancelled the spell augmenting my vision, I ascertained that the interior of the cave was lit! My far seeing Valkyrian eyes and acute hearing could make out the signs of human activity within, albeit not to numerous levels. I had a hunch that Night Wind’s erstwhile masters also had ongoing business in these caves that I knew nothing about.
But I intended to find out.
I had Night Wind park himself a safe distance away and dismounted to do some investigating up close. I had nothing to hitch him to, so the tired yet still zealous equine tried following me.
I turned around and laid a hand on his muzzle, “Caves are no place for a horse. You need to wait out here, pal” I commanded in a tone that had no room for argument.
He snorted in the contrary and stamped his front hooves on the ground, motioning with his head to the tunnels, eager to accompany me anywhere. Like I had opined before, what a loyal steed this horse was.
“While I would appreciate the companionship, Night Wind, I need to brave the darkness alone. When I emerge though, it might not be the same way I came in, so I will require you to be hanging around and at the ready to pick me up” I told him, habitually planning for contingencies. I took out the torches that Rust had given me, in case I needed them, and stuffed the four of them in-between my belt at each side.
He nickered and blew air through his teeth.
I quirked an eyebrow, “You want me to whistle for you? All right. Will this do?” I emulated the musical whistle that Gandalf used to summon Shadowfax in the movies, augmenting it with magic so that it would ring clearly over any noise in a broad radius, but not loud enough to be heard by whomever was in the caves.
His ears flickered at the high pitched sound as he memorized it and wordlessly nodded his head. He gave me a farewell nuzzle and disappeared into the night.
Unattended and with no one to worry about, I pulled my hood back over my head and crept towards the cave entrance, sticking to the shadows along the outer perimeter of the hill. As I got adjacent to the entrance, I could faintly hear voices discussing something. There was too much background noise of objects being shifted and solid materials being flung into containers for me to distinguish the words. Wanting to listen in on it, I took a steeling breath, initiated my active camouflage spell, and snuck past two armed men who were posted at the entry. They were armored in chainmail and carried spears, though they did not possess sensitivity for recently activated magic, so I could safely assume that they were not Stellar Mages. They did not appear to be that attentive, halfway to nodding off, so it was apparent that they did not expect any complications. That might be their undoing.
The interior of the cave was renovated so that the middle of stalagmite littered cave was free of obstructions. Occupying it was a wooden flatbed cart that was loaded with open crates that were filled to the brim with gemstones and the occasional chunk of gold. Every so often, a man would manifest out from further into the cave carrying with him a small fortune’s worth of wealth in a sack, which he would proceed to deposit in the cart straightaway. It wasn’t much of a stretch to deduce that the people running this operation here knew about the Dragon hoard that Rust relayed the story of to me about, plumbed the caves and found it, and were raking in the profits. Approximate to the laden cart that had oxen hitched to it was a table that had papers and scrolls cluttering its surface. Two men were conversing with each other next to it. One looked like a messenger, and the other looked like an overseer. There were plenty of tall stalagmites lining the sides of the cave, so I took cover behind them to do some eavesdropping.
“When will this next shipment be ready?” The messenger inquired, “Our Herald of Chaos mandated these assets be delivered a fortnight ago!” He impatiently expressed his liege’s displeasure.
‘These guys again? I best be ready for a fight’ I wouldn’t make a move yet, but I would go into lethal killing machine mode if it came to it.
“Our Herald of Chaos needs to learn some patience” The dirt and grime sullied overseer calmly replied, “Extracting the wealth that we’ve recovered takes time when the cave network here is infested with meddlesome Grimwort raids that constantly disrupt us. Not to mention that the Starbeast is an inconsistent sleeper. I lost an entire team last month because one of them was idiotic enough to wake it with his bumbling. That’s fifteen men! Gone!” The overseer snapped his fingers in dramatic emphasis.
“Cross doesn’t want your meager excuses… he wants results!” The casually garbed messenger spat, “This load had better be on its way by morning, or it will be on your head, Rock!” The diminutive but harsh spoken man made for a pen where his horse was being kept. He mounted it and departed the cave forthwith.
“Ass kissing, worm ridden piece of filth” The overseer unkindly grumbled to himself once the messenger was out of hearing range, “Unlike that snotty excuse of a man, I’m actually promoting our cause with more than just words! But since when did anyone ever appreciate my toiling in this forsaken cave? Glistering lard samples I’m undervalued!” He exhaled in frustration, rubbing his bald head and taking a seat at the table. He uncorked a stashed bottle of alcohol, which he took a swig of to alleviate his stress.
‘And I thought I was predisposed to complain to myself’ I mentally rolled my eyes. What a whiner.
I was about to contemplate my next course of action, when I just about had it chosen for me. A man materialized from the depths, running fast enough that he could have participated in the relay event at the Athletic Games and won third place easily. The winded man approached the imbibing overseer and paused to recuperate his breath before reporting in.
“Overseer Bottom!” The man exclaimed with some panic, “We’re under attack by the Grimworts!”
“Flaming tits of Tartarus” The overseer cursed sourly, “Will this night’s ineptitude never cease!?” He twisted his head angrily at the man, “Who was stupid enough to disturb their dens this time?” He demanded to know.
“That’s the thing, Overseer Bottom. They’re attacking without provocation this time! I think they may be after the hoard’s treasure too!” The man hypothesized, “There’s dozens of them and they just keep coming!” He voiced his fear.
“Well isn’t that just wonderful? Get your useless ass back there and help cut them down!” The overseer acerbically jeeringly instructed, and the man hesitantly obeyed. The rancorous overseer stood up and barked out more orders to the men at the front, “We’ve got trouble boys. Go lend a hand before we have to rot here waiting for another replacement team… again” He callously described how he would react to his men’s demise.
The lookouts nodded and jogged into the abyssal fathoms of the cave. Which left the overseer and me alone, really. This timely opportunity rendered my reliance on stealth mode unnecessary. Turning my emotions (and my camo spell) off and breaking from cover, I came up to the inattentive man and tapped him gently on the shoulder to politely get his attention.
He whirled around, “What!? Didn’t I tell you slugs t-…” He froze up in complete incomprehension when he saw it was not one of his men. His dithering reaction time in reaching for the dagger on his belt would lead to his ruination.
“Don’t take this personally, but…” I sank a hidden blade into his chest and removed it; puncturing through his sternum and into his aortic arteries like they were damp cardboard, “…die”
“K-knew I should n-never have taken t-this job…” He sputtered weakly as he staggered back limply, futilely clutching at his chest in an attempt to slow the bleeding before keeling over. I used my Tantō to trace a red line along his neck and ease his passage from this life, before wiping it clean on his leggings and saving a moment to meditate on my methods.
I took no pleasure in his death, but I couldn’t allow this operation to go on funding whatever misdeeds these Acolytes of Chaos would misuse it for. I could have knocked him out. But when he awoke again he would undoubtedly report my intrusion to his superiors, and I wanted to keep my profile as off the grid as possible. It still bugged me how I could kill so unfalteringly and dismiss the action that clinically afterwards, but it wasn’t a demon I could wrestle with right now.
I relieved the dead man of his valuables (including another pouch of coins to replace my depleted one) and scanned the desk for enlightening information that concerned his operation. Based on the shipping manifest, these Acolytes had already carted six shipments worth of gems and gold to their secluded base in the Dreamy Vale over the past two months since they had uncovered the hoard. Vexingly, the records did not specifically state the location of this base. These Acolytes must have known that someone would eventually stumble upon this place, so they took no chances. All the info I found only listed the estimated worth of the shipments (upwards of twenty thousand Bob) and comments about the hazardous conditions of accumulating this wealth. Rock Bottom was just as churlish in his reports as he was in life, and he repeatedly asked for more soldiers to empty the caves of whatever these Grimworts were so that their operation here would not be continuously harassed. This Herald of Chaos must not have valued his resource gatherers very well, since he never did send any muscle to provide security.
The far off noises of weapons clashing against metal incrementally grew increasingly frequent as I concluded collating with my findings and gleaning what I could from them. Additionally sabotaging the operation, I unlatched the gate to the pen where two other horses were kept and had them vacate the cave by giving them a firm slap to their rears (I almost had to jump out of the way to avoid a startled buck from one of the equines). Next, I negotiated with the stubborn oxen, both of whom knew where the town of Mirrimare was, to take the cart there in exchange for the guarantee of good grazing and less whip crazy masters. Pocketing Rust’s share of the valuables, I overlaid the crates with a silk sheet and attached a note to the wagon ordering the authorities of Mirrimare to prudently make use of the riches to benefit the impoverished town. I then set off into the cave’s interior to put down the other Acolytes and pick me some mushrooms.
‘Video Games have irreparably desensitized me, haven’t they?’ I brooded, thinking about how standard these things had become to me.
Torch sconces that were hammered into the walls only modestly lit the cave, so my eyes had to adjust to the dim conditions the farther I ventured into it. The narrow, burrow like tunnel opened up to reveal an enormous, open aired cavern that smelled musty and dank, and not in the cool way. There was a jagged path that guided those who took it to the vast floor of the cavern, which was decorated by stalagmites, stalactites, and columns that combined the two. Lamps that glowed blue and were hung on posts vaguely illuminated the winding path downwards. A battle of sorts was taking place at the bottom of the cavern, with the two spearmen from earlier fighting their way through a horde of four and a half foot wretched appearing creatures that looked like anemic goblins. These… Grimworts had pale skin from the absence of sunlight, cuspidated hairy ears, and black eyes that lacked pupils. They also seemed to be partially civilized (though I use this term rather loosely), arming themselves with jagged blades that were carved from stone and clothing their modesty with ratty loincloths.
They made atrocious shrieks and squawks as they charged at the duo of spearmen, who to their credit, were doing an excellent job of plowing through the oncoming waves of Grimworts. The reckless creatures threw themselves at them like rain on a rock and were swept aside with horizontal swipes that brushed their thin, emaciated frames aside. Whatever Grimworts got past their defenses to score a jab discovered that they couldn’t pierce their chainmail armor, which comfortably resisted the crude stone daggers and other stabbing implements they were using. Thirty meters of Grimwort filled space ahead of them was a half circle of fourteen men who were holding off the brunt of the main force. If they were one man short of a complete team, then the reporting man that the overseer sent back must have foolishly fallen to the goblinish creatures trying to rejoin his comrades. Behind them was a mammoth mound of gems and golden trinkets that must have been the Dragon’s hoard. It was of such size that it could have readily topped off several carts worth of shipments.
The chamber bore the signs of a great struggle that this battle had nothing to do with. Columns were tumbled over and cleaved from their foundation, scorch marks blackened the portions of the cave that were illuminated, and there were gashes raked into the earth that were wide enough to park an SUV on them with some room to spare. The Dragon that once resided here must have been ambushed in its own home, and fought wildly to stay alive and defend its nest. It failed though, as abreast of the hoard were the crushed remains of that Dragon’s skeleton, its semi truck sized skull staring forlornly at the mound that it spent much of its life stockpiling. It was depressing in a way, and the bloodshed that was taking place over its grave now did nothing to soften the disheartening impression.
The report of dozens of attacking Grimworts was a conservative and hasty estimate by my standards. The influx of the vicious creatures pouring out of the darkness and into the light of the retrieval team’s torches must have been shy of a hundred, with more of them turning up every second. The retrieval team itself was only marginally armed with one handed swords and the men composing it had nothing to defend themselves with if those did not avail them. Slowly but steadily, the men in the defensive circle were getting overwhelmed, and each of them were being slain one at a time as three or more of the Grimworts tackled them to the floor and bled them dry with their weapons. Somewhat morbidly, I was content with this development, as I didn’t need to wet my blades with acolyte blood a second time today.
On the other hand, an altercation with these Grimworts was unavoidable. As I reached the floor of the cavern, a trio that were probing the tiring spearmen’s defenses saw fit to try their luck with me. Assembling Dichotomy in the span of a second, I deflected a feeble diagonal slash (shattering the Grimwort’s weapon in the process) and deprived the offending creature of its forearm. It emitted a shrill yowl of agony before I silenced it by lopping off its head and stomping my boot into its chest to send it flying backwards. The other two were intimidated by this and turned tail to retreat, only to receive Mage-blade shards in their spinal columns for disrespectfully showing their backs to me. My face contorted into a moue of disgust as I advanced. These wretches were positively filthy. Their pint sized bodies were riddled (relatively aptly) with warts and pustules that gave off foul smells that made me nauseous.
‘And now I’m beginning to sound like Rarity’ I thought self deprecatingly, ‘Someone ought to light a match in here to banish that appalling stench’ I settled for igniting the conducive portion of my blade with magic and brandishing it at the numerous other savage Grimworts that aimed to introduce me to their roughly hewn weapons.
These creatures retained a primal fear of fire being used against them, and the two Grimworts who were within swinging range could attest to their brethren that I was neither in the mood for their hostility, nor would I tolerate it without dispatching them with extreme prejudice. Their bisected and cauterized corpses lying at my feet, the rest of the horde coming at me thought better of their attack and timorously pulled back to outside the light radius of my burning blade. Those Grimworts at the vanguard who were occupied with their foray against the defensive circle had achieved victory, as the last of the retrieval team had been ganged up on and suffered a violent, ignoble demise at the end of their serrated stone weapons. The two spearmen who were meant to reinforce them also succumbed to their mortality as the sheer force of numbers bypassed their chainmail armor, lacerated their exposed vital spots, and brought them low. The ostensibly triumphant horde attempted to smother the lamps that encapsulated the monolithic mound of treasure by kicking over the stands and stamping at the candles inside the glass.
Confident as I was that I could take these Grimworts on with the potent magical firepower that I had at the tips of my fingers. I didn’t have time to waste on them. However, if they succeeded in plunging the cavern into utter darkness, it would embolden them to assail me as the last non Grimwort combatant, and I would be unable to see them without limiting myself to equipping and holding one of the torches in my inventory and fighting with one foot in a bucket. To prevent this undesired scenario from happening, I proactively carved my way through the horde and to the mound where the creatures were bootlessly tugging at the grounded posts. I wordlessly marveled at how much wealth the Dragon had accrued before its unfortunate tangle with the Starbeast. The unarmed Grimworts (they had tossed their weapons to the floor to unburden themselves for their task) proved to be no challenge as they startled and scrambled for cover while I reduced their number of friends in this world. I rekindled the extinguished lamps and righted them with my magic, meanwhile pointing my blazing blade at them in a gesture that demanded they stand down or be annihilated.
I (all but unexpectedly) got my wish, as I heard a grating voice scream over the aggressive grunts and growls of the horde. They backed away a few steps and the mass of their bulk parted to allow someone through. This someone had to be their leader, as it had on a headdress made of fishbone, stood straighter, and was moderately cleaner than its kinsmen. I remained on my guard though, as their display of a ceasefire could have been a feint to surprise me, and I didn’t do surprises (Much to Pinkie’s dismay). The leader of the drastically diminished horde came to within a few meters of me before stopping and speaking in a wheezy voice that must have been a product of age.
“Why does the Fire Lord wielding the sword of flame oppose Grimworts? Why does he kill us?” It inquired in a falsely neutral, genderless tone that betrayed the authority figure of the horde’s fear of me.
‘Fire Lord? Don’t tell me they think I’m some kind of deity?’ I didn’t exclusively channel fire after all. It was just a preferred spell of mine. Still, I should take advantage of this.
“Your underlings attack me, and you have the gall to ask me that? I should burn you all to ashes for your insolence” There was a dangerous edge in my voice, and the leader stifled a shiver before composing itself.
“My den apologizes if we have offended you, Oh fearsome Fire Lord” It bowed and scraped the floor, a obeisant gesture that the rest of the horde copied after a moment of seeing their leader’s example, “Your swift and terrible wrath reminded us why we are to respect the power of the revered ones”
It rose and meshed its three fingered claws together, “Though we despise the garish sting they have on our eyes, we will keep the light bringers lit in your honor” It turned to its kinsmen, “You hear us!? Chieftain decrees that the lights go un-doused!” It proclaimed, and the horde murmured its obedience.
“And this treasure trove behind me?” I gesticulated back with a thumb.
“What does Fire Lord want with such petty baubles and shinies?” It was confused, “My den mates desire the shinies, to show the other rival dens that we are superior!” It beat a hand against its chest, making the bones in its headdress rattle.
“I do not want the shinies, I was just curious as to why you had slain those men for it” I spared a glance to the recently deceased, some of whom the Grimworts were already dragging to their hole in the ground, possibly for consumption. I internally frowned at the unceremonious defilement of their bodies, but I wasn’t willing to fight them for it, not when peace could be achieved.
The Chieftain hissed, “Foul man flesh desecrated our home, killed many younglings. We wanted them dead… the shinies are a divine reward for our troubles and grief” It grinned widely as it interpreted the mound as a beatific sign, showing off its crooked, piranha like teeth.
“Fair enough” I shrugged, apathetic either way, “Howbeit, I do desire something…” I tested the waters to see if I could lessen my own troubles.
“Name it, Oh Great and Powerful Fire Lord, and the Glowworm Pack will do its best to appease you” The Chieftain readily offered its group’s support. It was a strange designation… though it made sense if they lived near glowworms.
“Are your kindred by any chance familiar with a special type of mushroom growing in these caves?” I posed my simple question to them.
“Mushrooms? Of course we are, Fire Lord! There’s Hobnob, Julesthorpe, Uzfets. Oh, they are so tasty for us to eats!” It spouted gleefully. Its ability to replicate humanlike emotions was unsettling.
“Yes, yes, so you know your mushrooms!” I brusquely cut it off, “But do you know where I can find the orange mushrooms that have tendrils extending out of their caps?” I clawed a hand and brought it to my chin to illustrate what I meant.
The Chieftain cringed and looked to the side, “Those were our favorites… until the Starry Mountain made the chambers where they grew its den. What does Fire Lord want with them?” It indulged its own curiosity.
“My business in these caves does not concern you” I sternly evaded the inquiry, “But if one of your kindred were to… guide me to where I could find this Starry Mountain and the mushrooms. I would be most grateful” My tone made it clear that this was not a request they could refuse without dire consequences. Heck, I was so proficient at this threatening stance that even I didn’t know if I really intended to dice them to bits if they were uncooperative.
“If Fire Lord wants a guide to the Starry Mountain, Fire Lord will get one” The Chieftain put two of its clawed fingers to its mouth and whistled, before waving one of its kinsmen over, “Take him to see the Starry Mountain, and be quick about it!” It commanded an especially short lackey, who crawled on all fours like a certain pasty skinned character these Grimworts sort of reminded me of as a whole.
The lackey nodded and motioned for me to shadow it, “This way precious! This way!” He (this one approximately sounded male) encouraged me, crawling past the sparkling mound with a three beat gait and waited for me to tail behind.
“Follow the leader eh? Fine. I’ll play your game. But move wrong, and I’ll kill you” My eyes involuntarily flashed with a surge of magic to unintentionally reinforce this ‘Fire Lord’ image that the Grimworts associated me with. With how the gaggle of Grimworts gasped and cowered back, it was an efficacious tactic of intimidation.
“As you should, if we besmirch you with such imprudence. As you should” The Chieftain repeated and bowed again, “This humble den will spread word of your greatness to the other dens, lest they too bear witness to your destructive power and be wiped out”
“Do as you will. I must depart” I pivoted on my heels and followed the runt of the litter as I ventured into the heart of the cave network. The whooping shouts of Grimworts showering themselves with gems and gold echoed in the expanse behind me. It seemed a shame to let the majority of that fortune go to the Grimworts, but my pressing circumstances dictated that it out of my hands now.
Since the rest of the tunnels connecting each of the respective caverns weren’t explored by the Acolytes and therefore unlit, I extracted a torch from my belt and ignited it with magic instead of the flint and striker, mindful of my image before the crawling Grimwort that would occasionally sneak peeks at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I automatically suspected treachery to ensue at any given moment, but these Grimworts honorably stayed true to their agreements. There were no ambushes that I had to violently abort, nor other implications of trickery. I kept Dichotomy in hand and at the ready anyway, since Grimworts were the least hazardous things I might encounter in these caves.
It was difficult to tell the passage of time when I was immersed in total darkness, but if I had to reckon a guess, I’d say that it was a more than a middling number of hours of pseudo clambering over slippery rock formations before my ‘tour guide’ told me that we were getting close. I could guesstimate the time with relative accuracy because the torches that Rust supplied me with lasted about two hours each, the burning beeswax purified the air by producing cleansing negative ions as an extra benefit. Dark and dank as these caves were, they were not without their beauty. On the way to the mushrooms I espied opalescent pools of sludge, pillar sized selenite crystals jutting out of the walls in special chambers, and bioluminescent glowworms dangling from the ceiling much like the Arachnocampa luminosa that were native to New Zealand caves, only these glowworms gave off a reddish hue in place of a blue one.
I would have enjoyed it more had it not been for the nosiness of my guide, who asked me the most inane questions about things that wouldn’t even apply to me, such as which den I came from and whether I liked my fish raw… or wriggling. For some reason he kept referring to me as ‘precious’ and to himself in third person. Yeah, he was definitely not doing a bang up job of rectifying the notion of what I was mentally comparing him to. But he seemed to know where he was going, so I could overlook how queasy staring at his feculent back made me.
The hopping creature stopped short of the opening into another cavern and timidly maintained his proximity to the exit in the opposite direction. His head rotated back and forth fearfully as he looked between myself and the chamber where my goal was waiting for me.
“This is as far as we takes you, precious. Starry Mountain slumbers in the chambers where Chieftain’s favorite mushrooms grow. We are unworthy to even be in your presence, Oh mighty and statuesque Fire Lord, but we would advise our fellow Grimwort to be chary of waking it” He held a claw to his lips and blew air past his blackish lips in a shushing gesture.
“I’ll keep that in mind” I dryly acknowledged the obviousness of his counsel, “Thank you for showing me the way, Grimwort” I expressed my gratitude, and the small not-goblin puffed himself up with pride, “One last thing before you and I part ways permanently” I got his attention before he could scamper on home.
“Yes, precious!” He bobbed his head up and down energetically, “What is it? What’s it want of us?” He flashed me a smile that was sorely lacking on a complete set of teeth.
“I don’t plan on backtracking through this maze of caves. Is there a route to the surface that you know of?” I questioned him, not meaning to come back the way I came.
He held a claw to his chin in recollection, “As a rule, us Grimworts do not approve of roving up to the over-world,” He crept closer and looked upwards to me, “but we can tell you that there is a tunnel we know that leads up that is on the other side of the Starry Mountain’s chamber” He disclosed in a controversial tone of voice, “We likes to go up there sometimes to gaze at stars that won’t try to gobble us up” He shyly admitted to stargazing, “It reminds us of the times when brood mother would sing to us with the Glowworms glimmering above… we Grimworts are mesmerized by singing… so nice on our ears it is, yes precious!”
‘How touching’ These Grimworts weren’t the barbaric savages I thought they were. I didn’t know whether to be comforted or distraught by this bombshell.
“Adventurous for a Grimwort, aren’t you?” I offhandedly remarked, considerately holding the torch behind me so that the light wouldn’t grate on his eyes. He wouldn’t be much use as a guide if I blinded him after all.
“Please don’t tell Chieftain about this!” He implored me, this fact apparently being a well kept secret for him, “We likes being fed and not picked on by bigger den mates!” He was pathetic enough that he garnered my sympathy, even if I had already explained that I wasn’t coming back.
“I won’t tell a soul” I promised, grinning rakishly, “Now get out of my sight” I compelled him, holding the torch ahead of me and sending him scrabbling back to his den with a yip.
I contemplated extinguishing my only source of light so I would minimize the risk of waking the slumbering Starbeast, but decided against it when I remembered that I wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing without it. I guessed that I had little choice but to risk it and be speedy about my mushroom extracting. Egressing from the tunnel and into the main chamber where I would find my mushrooms, I attempted to scan the environment of the earthen cavity, but I found that it was simply too immense to do so with the levels of light that the torch was radiating. It was odd though. My torch diffused golden light, but the area of the chamber where I stood vigilant was illumed with a vermillion tinge. My grasp on my sword and torch instinctively tightened into a vice like grip once I realized that my lighting equipment was not responsible for this.
The tip of its translucent nose resting less than sixty feet away, there was an absolutely colossal beast the likes of which I had never witnessed before, except on television (And it was a poor representation at that). Its outline could be confused for that of a bear to one with faulty eyesight, though the general shape was about the only thing that this behemoth had with that animal, with it being hundreds of times more massive in scale. I could not accentuate just how mountainous this Starbeast was, my first comparison being that it would take up all the space of a blimp hangar if it were in the fetal position. Stretched out like this, I’d have to upgrade that blimp hangar to one that housed Zeppelins. Its body was a dull shade of red that was dotted with specks of light that resembled stars suspended in a liquid solution. There was a symbol on its head that depicted a white, eight pointed starburst. There was no mistaking it. I had happened upon a snoozing Ursa Major.
The most astounding feature about this Starbeast though was that it was semi tangible, with the majority of its gigantic bulk lying on top of the usual stalagmites and flowstones without compacting them into a fine powder. My mind struggled to comprehend how this was possible, as the breaths that it inhaled and exhaled in releases that would have the force of tiny gales had I stood in the way clearly demonstrated that it did physically interact with the world. Eventually the answer came down to a simple, if not infuriatingly non specific answer… magic: the means that made impossible things viable. It would explain how it managed to attack the Dragon in its chambers, when its bulk would have otherwise been stuck in the relatively Lilliputian tunnels getting there. How it could control this exotic ability while asleep was not for me to know.
The ambient reddish glow that this majestic creature gave off was sufficient enough that my torches would impede me more than they would support me, so I snuffed the flame by projecting a magical force field around the flame to choke it out of oxygen and put the stick down noiselessly instead of just recklessly throwing it away. The walls and upper ledges of this cavern were bedecked in the orange mushrooms that I sought, though how they grew in such unfavorable conditions was beyond me (Though fungi were hardy eukaryotic organisms). To my exasperation, the ones that I could see were all out of my unaided reach. There was stumpy evidence on the ground level that this Starbeast snacked on these mushrooms, sucking them into its gullet much like a whale would feast on microscopic krill.
In the interest of relocating onto one of those high up ledges where the hidden mushrooms were, I would have to engage the use of my wings, which was risky because my wings gave off a modicum of light much like this creature’s semi palpable hide did. I would have to hope that the similar hue that this creature shared with my wings was such that it wouldn’t notice a difference. Sneaking around it was out of the question, because it was fat enough that I would walk right into its selectively tangible, folded forearms. Keeping my distance, I summoned my wings and pumped them four times to ascend to the lowest of the ledges where the mushrooms were. The tendril mushrooms that would resuscitate Tough Cookie’s ailing magic reserves grew in bevies of five or more, extending out of the stony interior and growing abundantly despite the odds stacked against them.
I poked the cap of one with my finger and immediately withdrew it when it came away sticky. I then felt my affected extremity exude magic that was not characterized by my personal signature and mentally worked out what the cause of this was. I inferred that these mushrooms excreted some type of odorless ooze that was charged with energy, which was confirmed by scanning it with my metaphysical senses. I plucked a few of them as planned and stowed them in a free pouch on my belt. I was able to fit many into the cramped space due to their conveniently minuscule dimensions, being about the size of your typical, garden variety mushroom. The steady breathing of the Starbeast was the only noise in the cavern, since I was as silent as a church mouse as I worked. I really didn’t want to piss this thing off by interrupting its sleep.
Nodding to myself at achieving my main objective, I made to spread my wings and float to the bottom to make good on my exit… only for that sludge the mushrooms were secreting long before I had arrived to induce me to slip as my boots lost their purchase. I stifled a curse as I fell off the ledge face first and stumbled down onto the body of Ursa Major, rebounding off its hide as I did so. The ‘flesh’ of the Starbeast felt strange beyond words, like bouncing off of nothingness that was both unbearably warm and bone chillingly cold all the same. As a repeated testament to its size, it took me half a minute to arrive at the bottom, where I landed with a disgruntled ‘oomph!’ as I caromed off the tip of its snout.
My heartbeat was pounding in my chest like a drum as I bemoaned some of the harrowing situations that my life foisted on me. I quickly got to my feet as the Ursa Major inhaled sharply, its slumber cut into by my unfortunate slip up. The lungpower this thing possessed was like a cyclone, and I had to stab into the ground with my Tantō and hang on for dear life just to keep from being absorbed into its nostrils. Two mural sized eyelids opened sleepily to reveal yellow sclera with red irises that blazed like supernatural lighthouse beacons. Seeing no other options, I righted myself, sheathed my weapon, and cast my active camouflage spell, hoping against hope that it would be ignorant to that which it couldn’t see with its eyes, disregard my intrusion, and return to the dream world. My hopes promptly evaporated as it sniffed the air where I was twice and growled once it detected my foreign scent, the threatening sound reverberating in the cavern like an avalanche of doom.
Very much intimidated by something whose front incisors were taller than my cloud house, I beat a hasty retreat towards the tunnel I needed to use to escape to the surface. The Ursa Major must have heard my footsteps and figured out my plan, for one monolithic, clawed paw slammed into the earth in front of the exit tunnel with enough force that the shock would be classified as a four and a half on the Richter scale if it were to be measured. Its ground pound jarred me out of my camo spell and swept me off my feet, leaving me vulnerable for a few scant seconds. The Ursa Major knew this as well as I did, and slowly dragged its paw along the ground to smear me into a red streak on the floor. Cursing loudly, I pushed myself up and utilized my wings to just narrowly fly above its attack, simultaneously assembling Dichotomy in my hands and stabbing downwards as I descended. Aided by gravity, coupled with the impetus that my wing flaps imparted on me, I struck true like a rod from God.
It was then that I discovered that the nullifying edge of my Mage-blade had the most horrific effect upon contact with Starbeasts, which were more or less composed solely out of magic. As I impaled my sword into its forearm, I sliced through it like it was no more than a particularly thick fog, sloughing the starry flesh in two like a pair of shears. The edge of my blade necrotized the affected flesh in a disturbing fashion, engendering it to melt like wax and emanate a pungent odor not unlike ozone. Interestingly, there was no blood coursing through this creature’s veins (presuming it had them), so I was not soaked with any fluids. In spite of the damage that my vitiating retaliation produced, the Starbeast emitted no howls of pain nor other signs that it even registered the injury, its minor wounds only provoking it to more anger as it roared thunderously. If I weren’t made out of tougher stuff, I dare say that my eardrums would have burst entirely, instead of ringing like I had attended a rock concert session right in front of the speakers.
I was in a bit of a bind for this situation. I couldn’t take the exit tunnel and make an egress now, or the semi solid creature would just pursue me to the surface using its unique trans-phasic properties. But I would be ill advised to stay locked in mortal combat with this mindless monster that had effortlessly rent a fire breathing Dragon in twain just to muscle in on its territory. In the meantime, I was distracted with swooping and zipping around swipes of its hulking arms that made me feel like those girthy trees in the Towerwoods were being batted at me. I floated gracefully like a butterfly, circumventing its lumbering, rather predictable attacks and stung like a bee with Dichotomy whenever I could manage a clean strike. Even with how deadly the Arcanium metal was against the Starbeast, I just wasn’t doing enough damage to even incapacitate the ginormous thing. It would be like that bee inflicting a fatal sting to a person in one go, which was technically possible if that person had severe allergies, so maybe that wasn’t the most accurate analogy.
The solution to my dilemma dawned on me as I peered into its menacing glare prior to another attack. If I could take out its eyes, I would significantly improve my chances of making an unimpeded getaway. Drunken with hatred towards the annoying nuisance of a speck that it couldn’t squash like a bug, the Ursa Major thrust its left claw forward into the air to flatten me with the width of its paw. I squeezed through a gap in its claws with a midair gyration (idly noting how the tips of my incorporeal wings actually brushed against the talons) and glissaded down its limb by using my weapon to control my slide earthward while additionally doing more damage. As the Ursa Major bellowed in a mix of consternation and pain, evening its appendage to prepare for another swat, I sprinted along its forearm and charged up the conductive part of my blade to detonate a flare of light that would blind its other eye for a time. Leaping off of its arm with my wings and vocalizing a hoarse war cry, I planted Dichotomy into its eyeball like a fork into an electrical socket and let my spell activate, synchronously polarizing my own vision to avoid blinding myself. Multitasking with spells in the heat of things meant the difference between life and death in the outcome of a fight for a magic user.
The effect was exactly what I was hoping for. The Ursa Major howled wholly in pain as I rendered its left eye useless while concurrently disabling its other eye with an overwhelming explosion of light, like that of a small nova. The Starbeast frenetically thrashed its head side to side, striving to hurl me off its face. Granting its wish, I pushed against the ‘nothingness’ of its rotting sclera and alighted to the ground before it brought its mostly uninjured right forearm to wipe against its eyes as it slammed its head into the roof in recoil from the debilitating blow. I had to roll out of the way so a dislodged stalactite wouldn’t skewer me as the Ursa Major flailed about the cavern, failingly trying to kill me without its most vital senses. With the Starbeast preoccupied dealing with its newfound blindness, I booked it through the tunnel and prayed that the diminutive Grimwort from earlier wasn’t lying to me as I flew furiously through the narrowing passage. I snuck a glance behind me and punctually redoubled my efforts when I saw the Ursa Major’s phantom limbs selectively phasing through the environment as it ghosted its way in pursuit of me, likely tracking me via scent.
I was never so happy that the light at the end of the tunnel took on a literal meaning for me as I shot out the entrance of another cave with an oil tanker sized magical beast on my tail. It was early morning by my reckoning, so the sun was barely over the horizon to the east. There was a heavy fogbank that rolled in over the night that hadn’t fully dissipated though, so I had to get some altitude in order to tell that. Turning tangible behind me, the Ursa Major drastically expanded the aperture of the cave entrance as it erupted out of the hill and onto the rolling scenery characterizing the region near Fogmount. Its eyes (the good one anyway) were feral, but focused on me, so I knew that it was no longer sightless. Even though I was multiple dozens of meters into the air, the Starbeast reduced the space between us by standing on its hind legs, the tip of its head grazing the Heavens like a living skyscraper.
‘Where’s Godzilla when you need him?’ I lamented, gaping slightly at the sheer size of the Ursa Major now that there were some distinct landmarks to use as a reference.
Just when I thought I was going to have a dance of death with this thing for a second occasion, something unexpected transpired. The Ursa Major plodded forward and into a section of the fog that was thinned out by the dawning sunlight. The moment the light shone upon the Starbeast’s shoulder, it yelped in an undignified fashion and fell backwards on the rocky soil, causing another minute earthquake that shifted our surroundings where it landed. The air was saturated with that ozoney smell and I suddenly knew what this beasty’s major weakness was. It would certainly explain why Starbeasts were only ever seen outside at night.
It clutched at the scorched portion of its flesh and that rage in its eyes became combined with instinctive, self preserving fear. Grinning fiercely, I put Rainbow’s lessons to work as I manipulated the weather, dispersing and scattering large billows of fog with my wings. The Sun became my weapon against the Starbeast, inflicting burn damage on its whole body as I flitted throughout the sky exercising my Valkyrian aspect and opening up patches of fog for the sunlight to stream through. With the Starbeast lit at all angles and unable to withstand the barrage of solar rays, it was forced to crawl back into the hole from whence it came. It let out a pained whimper that was unbefitting a beast of its bulk as it shrunk into the blackness to lick its wounds.
I came to a landing safely outside the chasmal scar in the earth and shook my fist at it boisterously, “There’s plenty more where that came from! Look me up in the phonebook if you’re ever in the mood to get your star spangled, furry ass kicked a second time!” I gloated in a rare display of blatant hubris. I had just beaten a creature that was hundreds of times my size by the skin of my teeth while suffering nary a scratch. Can you blame me?
Once the adrenaline rush wore off, I checked my inventory to ensure that everything was still in place. Confirming that it was and that the mushrooms were fine (if not a tad squashed in the bag), I climbed up the nearest hill to best project my call over the landscape and whistled in two tones. One was long and sharp, like a bird’s chirp, while the second reverberated melodiously. Within ten seconds, I heard an enthusiastic neigh answer my call. I looked over my shoulder to see Night Wind bounding over the crest of a hill to my right, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he had been so close by. I shook my head and disregarded it. I knew better than to question timely blessings.
The jet black horse slowed his gallop to a trot before coming to a complete stop in front of me. He gave me a nuzzle that basically said ‘Hello again!’ and asked me if my errand was done with a faintly amused whicker.
I smiled imperceptibly and stroked along his lustrous mane, “Sure did, pal. I trust that you had some fun topside while I was stumbling about in the caverns?” I grabbed at the pommel and cantle of the saddle and lifted myself on top of it, “I’ve got the mushrooms that Tough Cookie needs to convalesce her magic pool. All that remains for us to do is get it back to Vitalitus so he can make something useful with them. Ready to ride, my steed?” I took the reins in my hands as he waggled his head affirmatively and turned him east, “Then let’s skedaddle. Hyah!” I whipped the reins and Night Wind stretched his legs, making tracks in the dirt.
Despite the time spent traversing the cave network, I hadn’t meandered that far from where I began. We skimmed along the edges of the tremendous forest until we found the same path that brought us to this neck of the woods. I never enjoyed backtracking for any reason, but I was willing to ignore that selfish inclination for a noble cause. Since daybreak had occurred in the previous hour or so, I calculated that we would return to Mirrimare by the afternoon. I could not sing the praises of Night Wind’s athletic capability enough, and I felt that he whisked across the earth as if he had wings (Alas, he could not fly for real).
Along that same vein, I suppose I could have flown back now that I knew where to go, but Night Wind had earned my companionship with his unswerving eagerness to serve, plus I was feeling understandably lazy after my tangle with the Ursa Major. I had grown fatigued from all the exertion over the past day, what with fighting for my life no less than three times. I know I had complained about the constant up and down bouncing that horseback riding entailed, but I noticed that it had odd sleep enticing qualities in its rhythm that when paired with a comforting breeze on my face, was nigh impossible to discount. I closed my eyes for a nap and entrusted Night Wind to handle things without me jerking at his reins.
⁂
I blinked my eyes when a bump in the ride jostled me from my sleep, triggering me to snort and shake my head to clear it of those fuzzy after-wake thoughts. I leaned up in the saddle and looked skyward to see the smoke trails of the town’s chimneys poking over the diminishing tree line. The sun was almost midway across the sky, so I was roughly precise with my prediction. Night Wind’s speed was at jogging level for a horse, so I knew that he had been conserving energy for the lengthy trip. We broke through the perimeter of the forest and onto the roads next to the fields that the Agrarian folks were still harvesting.
I hadn’t paid much attention to it before today, but the farmlands encompassing the town of Mirrimare must have been well over a hundred square acres worth of property. The numerous segments of fields, coupled with the Agrarian farming techniques of rotating crops to reduce the transmission of crop diseases and micro managed grazing of open pasture livestock meant that food was abundant here. I only prayed that it wouldn’t make them a target to the same exploitation that many of the town’s citizens had resettled here for. What was unusual to me was that the townsfolk collectively reaped the field’s benefits. There were farmhouses outside of the main body of buildings that conceivably housed farming families, but those were few and far between. Some of the workers looked up from their toiling and recognized me from the market, waving to me and commenting on how briefly I was away from town, or what excitement I must have experienced out in the world. If only they knew how correct they were…
Night Wind and I turned up at the town’s house of healing in time to discover that Starswirl had not yet returned himself, as the hitching post was absent of one Daybreak. I hopped off the saddle and fed Night Wind the rest of the carrots as a reward for his service, anchoring him to the post even though I knew he was not liable to wander off. I passed over the threshold of the doors and was unsurprised to find that the place hadn’t changed at all in the time that I was gone. A helpful nurse anticipated my purpose there (or was informed of it) and pointed me to the second floor, where I would find Pestle Plague. Tough Cookie was not in the same bed that I had deposited her, so I deduced that she must have been moved there.
I jogged up the stairs and learned that the second floor was closer to a hospital’s intensive patient unit than the rudimentary recovery beds downstairs, with twice the medicine cabinets and the reserved ministrations of the building’s primary healer. Tough Cookie was the sole occupant here, and was resting in a much nicer bed (She wasn’t in good shape though, just shy of being corpse like). It warmed my heart to see Vitalitus at her side and monitoring her vitals, relating a trivial story to her about the time he mixed rat’s root and wormwood together and had his eyebrows singed off, even though he knew she couldn’t hear it.
For a senior citizen, his hearing was quite functional, “Hrmm… I expected Starswirl to return hours before you would” He muttered as he twisted in his chair to face me, “No matter… did you retrieve the Weeping Willow mushrooms as I instructed?”
“You bet I did. On an offhand note, I suddenly have a new appreciation for the mosquito’s plight” I hinted about the troubles I experienced in collecting them. Allusions were wasted on this man though.
I pulled the bag off my belt and gave it to him for his inspection, “You collected more than was necessary, but this is most fortunate for you and your friend” He announced.
I quirked a brow, “How so?”
“With the amount you brought back, I can craft additional potion vials and imbue them with extra strength” He removed all of the slimy mushrooms and took out a corked tube that had violet colored fluid in it. Putting the mushrooms in a bowl, he popped the cork and poured the liquid into the bowl to make a solution. The orange mushrooms effervesced and dissolved as it reacted with the fluid, resulting in a maroon tinted elixir that smelled of potent magic.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you and the wizard know each other?” I indulged my curiosity from yesterday, watching him funnel the fluid into fresh vials that could come in handy.
The healer’s eyebrows rose as he regarded me, “How do I know Starswirl, you say? Well… he came to me many years ago to try his hand at being an apothecary” Vitalitus chuckled low as he remembered a memory that amused him, “He never could get his ingredient measurements and proper proportions right, but you need a special sense for these things. Not that he could ever accept that without grumbling about ‘predestined Mana Marks’ impeding him again”
I craned my neck, intrigued by this, “So he was a student of yours?”
Vitalitus shook his head, “Heavens no! Not openly, anyways. You see… Starswirl is a welcome anomaly in a long line of Stellar Magi who saw us valley folk as having no more worth than the dirt we farmed upon” He looked at the ceiling as he thought about the mishaps that the younger Stellar Mage went through, “Although he was the first born son of his House and therefore expected to retain the same attitudes as the other High Lords of the mountain ranges, he thumbed his nose at the status quo and sought to reform his people’s conceited way of thinking. Sadly, his father disinherited him in favor of his younger brother to prevent further shaming the family, and ousted him from the home. He was in his sixth year of exile when he came to learn under me”
“So why is he a devoted mage instead of a potion maker?” I inquired, wanting to know more of this hidden history.
“Magic is his true calling, Zenith” The healer used my name for the first time, “He has an affinity for the Arcane arts that make him so adept with it that he would be like a mountain, while his kin would be like the valleys in comparison. I know precious little of the magic that the Stellar Magi are so proud of flaunting, but I do know that Starswirl is a prodigy when it comes to its usage”
“He’s certainly capable with it” I remarked, recalling the fog cloud that he conjured in the forest. I would never have considered using active magic to manipulate weather processes before witnessing his flashy example. Then again… I didn’t need to.
“Indeed” Vitalitus nodded, “And the fact that he taught himself in the art of casting magic only reinforces that notion. Word soon spread about his skill and eventually climbed to the heights of his local hometown, where he was tentatively invited back into the fold to tutor privileged youths, in spite of his political aspirations having grown all the more ardent in his absence. They had firm reasoning for changing their minds, and I also suspect that it was to keep his rousing political vocalizations to the populace down to a minimum with mentoring. While the average Stellar Mage can competently evoke to mind five to eight spells corresponding to their marks… Starswirl could evoke over fifty, and those were just the ones that I knew of”
I was about to say something supplementary to contribute to the conversation, but the creaking of someone coming up the steps snagged both of our immediate attentions. Sure enough, Starswirl was in the house, carrying with him a wooden bucket that presumably had the leeches inside. His robes were damp and there was some leftover marsh on his sleeves. The state of his clothing and the sour expression on his countenance would have gotten me to chortle, were it not so inappropriate for a somber mood like this.
I pulled my hood over my head to preserve my Stellar Mage image to the wizard (this quirkiness did not escape the notice of the healer, who otherwise said nothing about the peculiar action), “You’re late” I opined blandly, crossing my arms together, “Vitalitus and I were just speaking of you to pass the time”
“A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to” Starswirl coarsely countered (eliciting a grin out of me for his choice of expression), setting the bucket on an adjacent table.
Inside the bucket was a bloody chunk of raw bovine meat that was riddled with small, segmented leeches that pulsed as they fed on the leaking blood of the bait. Next to that he unloaded a batch of the Finrush caltrops (comically plucking them from his robes, where they stubbornly clung to him) that Vitalitus had him obtain on the side. The barbs didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, being spikier versions of the burs that one would find on some plant breeds.
“Perhaps you should have meant to arrive sooner” Vitalitus criticized this time, getting the normally composed wizard to flinch, “Your friend is treading on a rapidly thinning boundary separating this mortal coil from its opposite as it is. An hour later and your striving would have been for naught” He rose from his chair to examine the black striped leeches, “Regardless, you both have succeeded in your tasks. Now stand back and watch me accomplish mine” He shooed us to the sidelines.
With a pair of tweezers, Vitalitus tenderly extracted the leeches from their meal and placed them one at a time on Tough Cookie’s body, taking great care to position them over circulatory veins for the optimal transmission of their reputed poison eliminating enzymes. I only knew from my high school and college biology courses that this class of Annelid excreted some kind of anticoagulant when they fed to keep the blood from clotting. But in a magical world, ordinary things had a penchant for becoming extraordinary.
Tough Cookie’s body had an almost spontaneous reaction to the enzymes of the leeches, and she started convulsing violently on the bed. Vitalitus barked at us to help restrain her and we obeyed (even half dead she was strong), holding her down for the better part of an hour as Tough Cookie’s shuddering gradually calmed down and her struggling ceased to an occasional twitch.
Vitalitus was unsure about whether or not this was a positive sign, but went ahead with the rest of his experimental procedure. With a vintage style brass and glass syringe, he filled it with two doses of the mushroom based solution that he had made and injected it into Tough Cookie’s jugular. Starswirl and I collectively held our breath as we waited to see what would occur.
The affected spot incrementally regained some of its original, healthy color as Cookie’s somatic cells were given a supercharged dosage of magic. It summarily spread to the rest of her body as her hopefully purified blood channeled it where it was needed. Cookie’s labored breathing picked up in pace and became audible to all of us, her chest waxing and waning reassuringly. Vitalitus pulled open a drawer and sifted through it until he found a trumpet shaped instrument of bone that I realized was a primitive stethoscope. He pushed it into the salved flesh over her heart and listened for the rhythm of her pulse. He recorded the beats per minute on a piece of vellum that had columns scratched in to account for any changes in her heart rate.
He hummed thoughtfully, “She appears to be on the mend” He removed his ivory stethoscope from her chest, “Howbeit, I’ll need to keep her under observation for a few days until I can confirm that she’s in the clear. But I sincerely believe that she is through the worst of it” The healer asserted with confidence.
He clapped his hands and rubbed them together, “Congratulations gentlemen! We are the first to combat the Hartsbane poison and win. This would be a historic day for the field of medicine if the old Academic Arbor was still in operation, but we’ll just have to recognize this achievement for ourselves”
“Academic Arbor?” I questioned distractedly, gladdened that Tough Cookie’s life was safeguarded against a premature expiration.
“Learned and freethinking men from each clan, like Vitalitus, sometimes convened in the valley to discuss the advancement of common science and magical theory. The locations of these ‘meetings of the minds’ varied for security reasons, but the name stayed constant. Without the exchanging of knowledge, we would be scarcely more than uncultured savages scratching a living off rocks. Their meetings are what advanced us as a whole, and they inspire me to see those days again” Starswirl educated me, “This was all before the meddling of the Stellar Magi and the Valkyrians relegated it to obscurity. Now our peoples are at each others throats instead of standing united, as it always should have been” He wrung his hands, missing the weight of his staff in his grip.
“You speak as if you were there, Starswirl” Vitalitus shot him an aside glance, “And you speak far too highly of it. In my opinion, each of the clans’ representatives were full of themselves, even back when we weren’t fighting ourselves for ultimate supremacy” He sighed melancholically, “But yes… I do indeed pine for the days when I could compare notes with my dear Skyborn friend Tempestus, cranky ol’ bat that he was” He laughed nostalgically before addressing us, “Now that the worst of it is over. How were each of your travels? Starswirl…?” He verbally prodded the wizard for information.
The wizard paid it little mind, “Nothing worth speaking of. I soiled my robes in those damnable marshes and nearly became leech bait myself, were it not for the protective screening spell I shielded my skin with. What about you Zenith? Run into any Starbeasts?” He asked with a knowing expression on his face.
“Not quite…” I fibbed, falsely tapping at my chin, “but I did run into more of those Acolytes of Chaos” I disclosed, with the wizard’s smug expression evaporating and being replaced by shock.
“You did? What were they doing there? Did they attack you?” He exclaimed in succession, worry in his eyes for my sake. Doesn’t that just warm the cockles of your heart?
I whipped an index finger in his direction, “I’ll tell you the answers to those in order. They were occupied with heaping up the rumored Dragon’s hoard, and no, since they were kind of busy getting slaughtered by a boatload of Grimworts, who were accommodating enough to show me where the mushrooms I was seeking were” I scratched at the back of my head, “Is it odd that Ursa Majors snack on magical mushrooms?” I posed it pseudo theoretically, “I find that to be pretty weird”
Starswirl’s jaw unhinged as he processed this, “Incredible… you must be the second hero mentioned in the prophecy. There are far too many correlations for it to be mere coincidence” He murmured to himself, which I still caught because Valkyrian ears are naturally designed for eavesdropping.
He continued to speak, “What inexplicable timing. Come… you and I must talk candidly about my quest, and your reformed role in it” The wizard turned to Vitalitus, “While it pains me to do this, I cannot linger here until Tough Cookie comes around. When she does awaken, inform her that I’ve found the second and am on my way to seek out the heroines. She will understand”
“Very well. I shall relay the message to her when she wakes” He bowed his head in a gesture of goodwill, which the wizard copied, “Farewell Starswirl. May our paths cross again, under less stressful circumstances preferably” He humorously cracked.
“I’m sure they will” Starswirl agreed, urging me to follow him with a curling gesticulation of his fingers.
I did not want to leave Tough Cookie all to her lonesome, but Starswirl seemed intent on resuming his business in the Dreamy Vale and Vitalitus was watching over her, so I scribbled on a scrap of parchment a private message that was for her eyes only (‘Frigging quills’), stuffing it under her pillow and illuminating Vitalitus to this fact. On my out, the healer entreated me to take the four surplus vials of that maroon colored mojo juice, mysteriously commenting that he felt I might need it. I thanked him a last time for his kindliness and was out the door. I must admit that I was eager to sally forth too, as I had a feeling in my gut that my ticket home was somewhere in that valley.
Starswirl and I reconvened outside by the hitch where Night Wind and Daybreak were resting after so much traveling in such a short period, “Alright Starswirl, it’s time you clarified to me just what the heck is up with you and this vague quest of yours” I pressed the wizard, giving him my full attention.
The wizard turned his back to me and contemplated about how to best lay it on me, “Are you familiar with the Sisters of Fate? The one whose veiled tower is smack dab in the unpopulated craggy highlands in the center of the map and has more concerted security than most castles?” He responded with a question.
“I have heard of them in passing” I replied with nonspecific honesty, my mind pulling up mental images of the beautiful stained glass window that exalted their legacy as soothsayers.
“They are yet another example of what our people could achieve if they worked together in unison. Their protectors are a small but well trained mix of soldiers from all three clans, each resultant from a following that all three of the foreseers garnered individually. Combined, they make up a manifold assortment of crack troops” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “But I’m digressing here. If you know of the Sisters of Fate, then you must also know about their prophecies concerning future events that will happen both near and afar. One of these prophecies was disseminated many moons ago and reached my ears through a trustworthy source. When it did, I kept alert, for I knew in my heart of hearts that it addressed my dream to see our people ruled under a single, all inclusive banner resembling none of those being flown today. This is why I seek these fair maidens out. For even the most wisest among us cannot see all ends… but the Sisters are gifted with preternatural foresight, which for all intents and purposes is the next best thing. It is imperative that I find the heroines of the prophecy” He explained to me in monologue, to which I listened to with rapt attention. There was something almost hypnotic about how this aged but venerable man told his tale.
“And what was this mysterious prophecy?” I investigated, still wary about the one concerning myself.
Starswirl inhaled deeply before telling me, “Two heroines will rule them all, two heroes will find them. A darkness most vile will obstruct them with hate, but in doing so shall be bound by fate. Twin lights shall emerge from the Heavens to bring them all and in Harmony, unite them” He glanced at me meaningfully, “Each third of that prophecy was issued by one of the foreseers… and their auguries rarely align with such coherent consistency” He pointed an index finger at me, “I believe you to be the second hero. Not Tough Cookie, as I originally presumed and admittedly even hoped for”
“Not that I’m contradicting you… but please enlighten me. What makes you jump to this conclusion?” I controverted, more or less in agreement with him on most of his points.
He bobbed his head, “Gladly. Your coming to our aid in the Towerwoods right as the Acolytes were about to deal a lethal blow to my plans was plenty hinting. But foiling the Acolytes’ schemes a second time? Your peaceful dealings with the Grimworts, who have only ever attacked the men who venture into their dwellings with single mindedness? Getting close enough to the Starbeast to confirm it as an Ursa Major and surviving? One unlikely act is a coincidence… four of them in such a short span of time is nothing short of supernal providence. You are the one fated to assist me in finding the heroines, you must be” He insisted, partly to convince himself that it was the truth.
‘If one can call almost being reduced into crimson paste on a cave wall more than once surviving… then sure, I can see his point’ I mused.
I exhaled an incredulous scoff, “Even if I’m not. I’ll help you find these heroines none the less, so long as I get to thwart these Acolytes of Chaos some more” I held out my hand in a gesture of cooperation, “Deal?”
He did not hesitate, clasping hands with me and shaking on it with a smile, “You certainly strike bargains with less ferocity than you do blows. It’s a deal. We should be ready to depart soon. If you have any business in the town that is unresolved, I suggest you conclude it forthwith” He advised me.
“I do, in fact, need to have a few words with the town’s blacksmith. Where shall I meet you when I’m finished making his day?” I asked him.
Starswirl reached into the pocket of space separating Daybreak’s right saddlebag and her rump and withdrew his staff, “I must see a man about some enchanting crystals. If we do not serendipitously converge after that, then we will rendezvous back here with the horses”
From there we split up to conduct the remainder of our business. I found Rust’s smithy within five minutes of walking and made my way inside. I descried the man languishing behind his counter with a bored expression on his face. Business was booming, no doubt.
He perked up when he saw me, “Master Zenith, yer back!”
“What did I tell you about calling me your master?” I cautioned, frowning a bit at him.
“Apologies… Zenith” He bowed humbly, “I take it ye were successful on yer errand? If not… there’s no shame in backin’ out of a life threatenin’ situation”
I shoved a hand into my pockets and clenched a handful of roughly cut gemstones and silver coins, “I don’t know. What does this pile of gems and coins say about my resolve?” I impassively wisecracked to him.
Rust’s eyes widened so much that I momentarily thought his eyelids would forever retract behind his eyeballs, “Y-ye, y-ye did it? Ye actually did it! Hot damn! Ha ha ha!” He whooped with glee, jerking the hinging flap joining the two tabletops and trapping me in a clammy, perspiration marked hug. Rust was one of those few people closer to my imposing height, so it wasn’t an entirely awkward embrace. It was just a mostly awkward one.
He detached himself from me and I could spot a joyful glint in his eyes, “Oh ye have no idea how much this means to me, lad”
I inclined my head forward, “I’m happy that you’re happy” I cleared my throat, “But as you might recall, I didn’t do it solely to lighten your mood… that’s just an added benefit” I reminded him, slightly narrowing my eyes in emphasis. I like to think that I am for the most part selfless, but I’m not a charity worker.
“Of course. The throwin’ knives!” He almost frantically pulled the box out of the desk shelf and practically shoved it into my arms, “They’re yers! May they serve ye well!”
“Thanks…” I communicated my appreciation, “Best of luck reconnecting with your family, okay Rust?”
He chuckled, “Even if they don’t accept me back, I now have the means to show ‘em that I still care. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without ye, boyo” He was so giddy that he jumped into the air and heel clicked, “Oh, I must get started sending out messengers to my hometown right away! I’m closin’ up me shop for the day” He grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me in place, and urged me out the door, “Thank ye again, Zenith” He bid me farewell, shutting and locking the door behind himself before booking it to whatever constituted the postal service building in this joint.
Unlatching the case, I held the newly acquired throwing knives in my hands to get a feel for their weight and sheathed them into the available slots in my belts once I was satisfied, tossing the box into a contiguous rubbish bin (‘So many modern conveniences for a medieval-ish society’). With no way to reliably track Starswirl down, I made for our agreed upon rendezvous point by the horses. I was perhaps three quarters of the way there when I espied two men on horseback by the hitching post who were discussing something unknown with Starswirl, who did not look pleased by their presence. I sauntered closer to get within hearing range.
“-…derstand why you embarked on this aimless quest of yours, Starswirl. Your absence in the capital has left a notable vacuum among the learned magic instructors, one which requires filling before… unpalatable events occur” The one wearing a blue fancy noble’s outfit mentioned.
“I embarked on this quest for a reason, Midnight Twinkle, one that I was distinctly vocal about. If anyone had bothered to stop and listen for a change, they wouldn’t have sent you to scrape at my boots and beg my return” Starswirl all but sneered at him.
“Careful now, wizard! Careful!” The one in purple dress warned, “The Royal family might owe you a debt of gratitude for your many years of service. But they can just as easily brand you an enemy of the state if you refuse their wishes with such disrespect”
“Is that so, Silver Sleight?” The wizard gave him a dry, askance gander, “Has the Royal family really sunken so low that they would resort to petty threats in order to see me back to the court? If things have really degenerated to this degree, then my quest has become doubly necessary it seems” He indirectly criticized his technical rulers, causing both men’s faces to turn red with barely suppressed anger.
“Is there a problem here?” I intervened before they caused any more of a scene in full view of the gathering bystanders.
“Who is this filthy commoner?” Silver spoke out of turn, hardly sparing me a receptive glimpse, “Tell him to keep his mouth shut before I weld it shut with a zip lip charm”
‘Okay… this one needs to be taught a lesson in humility’ I thought with aggravation, this Silver Sleight reminding me too much of pre-reformed Blueblood.
I stood up straight and engaged my hammy ‘English’ accent, “How dare you address me with such unwarranted distaste, you arrogant buffoon! I demand satisfaction!” If I had on gloves, I would remove one, throw it down, and then slap him in the face with it (After weighting it with some lead, of course).
Silver Sleight regarded me thoroughly and paled when he saw how well equipped I was to destroy him (He was mainly fixated on the knife handles sticking out of my belt), “I beg your pardon for besmirching you, sir. I had no idea you weren’t one of this filthy rabble”
I wanted to mash his face into the earth so he would be as dirty as the people he treated with contempt, but he had apologized and was presenting a less violent way to work things out, “I’ll accept your pardon, Silver Sleight. But if you dishonor me again, you’ll sorely wish you hadn’t” I made him squirm in his saddle with my offsetting gaze, “Now why do you bother my traveling companion?”
“You’ve taken on others to follow you on this ridiculous quest, Starswirl?” Midnight Twinkle rocked the metaphorical boat before treating with me, “We simply desire to make our bleeding heart of a magic instructor see reason, my good sir. His people back home miss him terribly you see, and the ailing health of our King and Queen are not helping matters in the least. His people need him”
“My people do need me” Starswirl concurred emphatically, “They need me to put an end to this pointless bloodshed and oppression that are seeping the land in hate. If the coldness in our clans’ hearts begins to extend into the physical world… all will suffer for it” He grimly predicted the coming of the Windigos. I could feel for him. He was someone who could see the writing on the wall, and yet no one paid him his due heed.
Midnight Twinkle pressed a glove to his face and sighed, “It is abundantly overt that you cannot be persuaded to abandon this folly, so we shall waste no more of our time in this far flung hole in the mud” He pulled at the reins of his horse and turned it sideways to us, “But know this, Starswirl. We aren’t the only ones looking for you, but we are the only ones who will ask nicely. You’re out of your league, my once respected mentor” He insulted him.
Starswirl bristled at this, “Do not take me for some conjuror of cheap tricks! I have woven together and committed to paper more spells than the combined lot of you sycophantic doters will cast in the entirety of your vapid, bon vivant lives!” He raged, the atmosphere around him darkening with each lambasting word. Boy, did he tell them what for.
Midnight was unmoved by this display, having seen it before no doubt. He gave the town one last lookover and shivered, “Come Silver… this despicable carbuncle of hovels is giving me the hives” He commanded, kicking his heels into his ride and galloping away.
Silver Sleight delayed to have the last word, “Your stubbornness will reflect poorly on your House, Starswirl. Remember that we know where your family lives” He subtly threatened.
“It’s a small town, Silver. Everyone knows where everyone else lives” He replied evenly. His staff glowed and Silver’s horse reared up in surprise, unbalancing Silver Sleight and tossing him off his ride to wallow in the muck.
Onlookers saw this and laughed merrily, delighted to see a Stellar Mage justly humiliated. As he got his feet, Silver had a freak-out that I imagined would be reminiscent of pre-reformed Blueblood’s when Rarity showered him with frosting for embarrassing her at the Joyous Jumping Jubilee. That was a funny story actually (not that either of them would agree), though both had very different viewpoints on what really transpired at the ball.
“About time you got knocked off your high horse” I couldn’t help but quip at his misfortune.
Silver either ignored me or didn’t hear me. He was too busy glaring at Starswirl for his defiance, before mounting his horse to run away with his tail between his legs. The spectators mocked and jeered at him the whole way out, adding insult to injury.
“How did they even find you, Starswirl? Isn’t this town supposed to be a backwater settlement?” I questioned the wizard as they disappeared.
He clicked his tongue, “Luck, Zenith… and perhaps a scrying spell linked to the connection that we established between mentor and student over multiple months of apprenticeship”
“Connection?” I snorted at the positive connotation, “They showed you the same respect that a wolf shows a honey badger. They feared you too much to take you in by force, so they resorted to underhanded threats to goad you into returning instead”
“The connection does not have to be emotional to be traced” Starswirl educated me, “Spend enough time around somebody and they become intangibly linked to you through bonds of magic, which is the ambient energy’s way of encouraging Harmony through close association” He plunked his staff against the ground, “Their presence tells me that we must reach the Dreamy Vale soon, before others try to stop us” Wasting no more words, he walked towards the direction of our horses and I shadowed him.
Dramatic events had a bizarre sense of timing in this world. Because before we could mount up and ride out, we heard the uproarious noises of clangor and commotion happening inside the town and out in the fields. Twinkle’s warning about other people searching for Starswirl was more pertinent than even he knew, as airborne warriors dressed in outfits resembling Roman foot soldiers descended from the clouds in droves. They flew in V shaped formations of five and began encapsulating the town in a loose but well armed perimeter. I couldn’t be certain, but I would estimate their numbers at somewhere lower than two hundred men. A quarter of their forces seemed to be dedicated to pacifying the farmhands in the field. The people laboring in the fields were rounded up by the soldiers and ordered into resuming their work under new management. The men who voiced their objections were given a forceful smack across the face with the flat of their Xiphos style swords in rebuttal.
The townsfolk of Mirrimare regarded the intruders with unconcealed disgust, but weren’t armed, and therefore could not resist the unexpected and sudden occupation. The women and children outside cried out in terrorized fear as they were urged into their homes by the spear wielding Valkyrians, who pried their husbands and fathers away from them. The men were kept isolated to encourage cooperation through implied threatening of their families. I didn’t understand what the point of this was (intimidation?), but the troops randomly trashed the place, turning over carts, smashing windows, demolishing market stands, and wreaking general wanton destruction. With my farsighted vision, I could see special carts made out of conjoined clouds and wood being loaded with fresh vegetables and fruits that the Skyborn didn’t grow themselves. There was no mistaking it; this was an example of those infamous raids that many people moved here to get away from. That hope was dashed on the floor along with some poor merchant’s produce. Starswirl and I recognized the danger and stuck close to the walls with thatched roofing shading them for maximum stealth against the vision of overhead Skyborn.
“Is everyone flocking to Mirrimare today!?” I exclaimed to myself, before speaking to the wizard beside me, “How are we supposed to leave for the Dreamy Vale now? I doubt they’ll let us go on our merry way”
Starswirl scowled at me with vague annoyance, “I am more worried for the townsfolk, as well as Tough Cookie. We must drive them out somehow” He advocated, “Their closest outpost is over a dozen leagues from here, and I somehow find it difficult that they could stage a raid like this from there. It is unlikely that they will be able to engage in another attempt to despoil this place for weeks, if they are expelled” He reasoned.
My shoulders slumped in dismay, “You’re kidding me, right? We’re not only outnumbered… we’re surrounded on every side, old man. We could deal with one disadvantage… but combating both is bound to get us captured or worse. Be practical about this” I pleaded, my analytical mind already formulating possible solutions.
“What would you suggest we do then, Zenith?” The wizard countered coolly, “I cannot let this town become yet another ‘protectorate’ in the Valkyrian Provinces. It would make all my preaching about ending the oppression betwixt the clans a farce” He made it obvious that he would do something brave, but unwise about this, with or without me.
“These men must have a leader coordinating them” I postulated, “And you can almost always tell who that is by their authoritative armor design. If we can find them and nab their attention, we could split their forces into chasing us as a diversion. I know that Rust’s smithy has a few weapons in storage. We should also arm any Agrarians willing to fight for their freedom to cause extra havoc and break their newly established foothold before it solidifies into a stranglehold”
Starswirl considered this strategy pensively, “Your logic is sound, Zenith. You prove that you have a better mind for tense situations such as these with every occurrence” He complimented me with an approving expression.
“It’s not that impressive. Besides… I’d be dead several times over if I couldn’t think on my feet” I deadpanned, “We’ll have to be sneaky though, the Skyborn already have patrols making sure the streets have been emptied”
Starswirl stroked his beard in thought, “Perhaps a perception charm?” He proposed, his staff’s crystal glimmering in what was probably a pre casting mode.
I shook my head in the negative, “That wouldn’t work. These men are scouring the town for anyone who hasn’t been herded inside or is under watch. Perception filters are only effective against passive notice, not active”
“I have been experimenting lately with an invisibility spell that could get us pass those patrols, though it does have its… kinks, shall we say” He admitted, his tone suggesting that there would be unwanted side effects if we used it.
“Really? What a coincidence!” I fake smiled to him, “I know such a spell as well… though mine doesn’t have as many caveats” I bragge-… I mean, enlightened him to the superiority of my spell over his.
“A spell to assemble metal shards into a sword, and now an invisibility spell? Which of us is renowned for their aptitude with magic again?” Starswirl once again demonstrated his wry sense of humor, “Will it perfectly mask us from undue eyes?” He followed up in seriousness.
“It’s not true invisibility” I told him, “But it bends and refracts the light around our bodies so that it would appear to an observer that we would be see through. It isn’t foolproof though. If we move, our outlines will be apparent to anyone with a brain. We can’t look anybody in the eyes either, those don’t get the refracting treatment”
“Impressive…” Starswirl flattered me, “And you devised this spell by yourself?”
“Kind of…” I ambivalently responded, “Let’s say that I was inspired to refine my own version of it”
“Then let us dawdle no longer. Cast it on us both” He instructed, “I will adjust my amulet so it will not interfere with your spell” He inserted his hand into his left robe sleeve and rotated the aforementioned object.
“Gladly” I brought my internal stores of magic to the fore and let the magic wash over us, our forms wavering until only our outlines were visible to meticulous scrutiny, “That should last you as long as you continue to feed it magic. Follow me” I tugged at his robes, “I’ll take you to the smithy where the weapons are kept” I stated, training one eye on the sky and the other on the ground.
These Valkyrians knew how to lock a town down. Patrol routes crisscrossed every street from above and below in half minute intervals. Many times I would have to signal to Starswirl to halt so that we would not be detected, one patrol getting so close to us that I could smell the sweat on them. They must have flown far to get here, even if they hid their fatigue behind the stoic masks of ideal soldiers. They weren’t terribly talkative either. So I couldn’t pick up on any useful information other than the terse, unforthcoming reports that the grunts gave to their superiors concerning food stores and the odd Agrarian who decided that a pitchfork could compete with a spear. The officers wore the crested helmets that wouldn’t go out of style for centuries to come, while the common soldiers had helmets with curved T shaped visors that sacrificed some peripheral visibility for protection.
Each Valkyrian soldier was garbed in thick leather armor with segmented chest plates and greaves that were thicker than the rest of their ensemble. They mainly carried spears as their primary armaments with secondary Xiphos swords at their hips, though the men soaring overhead did have crossbows. I finally got to see this vaunted ‘Lightning Forged Steel’ up close when I crept by an officer brandishing his sword, and noticed that it had a zigzagging rippling pattern on the flat most part of the blade that fittingly resembled lightning. Interesting to note was that there was the occasional woman in their ranks, though they were no less formidable in appearance. I remember reading that the warrior culture of the ancient Valkyrians did not discriminate based on sex, only what they could contribute to the clan. Men were traditionally favored for their general hardiness, but it was not unheard of to have a female commander of legions, such as Commander Gale Force of the second century post unification era of Arcania.
We passed by several locations where Agrarian men were on their knees with guards posted over them, glowering spitefully at their captors. They came across as being eager for a scrap, which fit into our plans quite fortuitously. Luckily… the Valkyrians hadn’t been here enough time to check Rust’s shop for the weapons that would soon be used against them. It was a low profile building, so that oversight could be forgiven. Still, we’d need to hurry before they skimmed this place too.
We de-cloaked outside of Rust’s shop, where I stopped Starswirl just short of the smithy to request something that he would undoubtedly be opposed to, “I trust that you know a spell that can pick an unenchanted lock?” I rhetorically inquired, idly hoping that the accented blacksmith was unharmed. I’d bet he was cursing his miserable luck right about now.
He was unamused, “What sort of wizard is trumped by a simple lock? Yes, I can pick it with magic. Why do you ask me this?” He returned the question.
“I’ll leave it up to you to see the weapons inside delivered to eager hands willing to swing them” I tapped a finger to my chest, “I’m going to go find their leader and initiate that diversion we talked about. If I can, I’ll additionally send any Agrarians I can free your way so you can issue them some blades. When the troops in town are blindsided and in disarray, we’ll make for this Dreamy Vale we need to get to so badly”
“What!? Absolutely not!” He harshly whispered in disapproval, “It’s dangerous to go alone!”
I smirked at his words, “Relax, old man. I’m packing significantly more firepower than the Master Sword could afford me” I boldly declared. He made it too easy to bounce these things off of him.
His brow furrowed in confusion, “This is another one of those enigmatic references of yours, isn’t it?” He deduced flatly.
My smirk grew, “You’ve figured it out” I camo’d up again and left the wizard to carry out his end of the plan.
I didn’t have too many grievances at leaving him behind, since I moved more effectively on my own. Well that, and I didn’t want to explain to Starswirl that I could mute my footsteps with magic either, he might have felt inadequate. I found my first prisoner area in a small square with a stony water well in the center. Four unflinching Valkyrian soldiers guarded fifteen Agrarian men who were bunched into a tight knit circle. The townsfolk could effortlessly overwhelm them with numbers, but the self preservation instinct was puissant in these men, and they stayed compliant and docile, though not without a bitter gnashing of the teeth. This was one of those infrequent occasions where I was stumped by the moral greyness of the situation. I didn’t want to solve this through lethal means, since these men were Valkyrians, not scummy Acolytes of Chaos. The Skyborn weren’t exactly innocent, given how they were pillaging this town of its food, but they did not deserve to die by my hand simply for stealing. I would need to be decisively swift about this.
Emerging from the shadows behind the most oblivious of the guards, I tapped him on the shoulder. He lazily twisted around to see whom it was and got slugged in the face for his trouble, knocking him out cold. The other three bristled in reaction, but three magically guided throwing knife handles struck their helmets with enough kinetic energy to dent the helms and render them equally unconscious. I waggled my hand up and down to mitigate the compression sensation of colliding my fist with a stiff metal helmet as I thought of a witty one liner to utter to the Agrarian men who were gaping at me in awe.
“I heard that the Skyborn enjoyed receiving tributes of food” I grinned, “So I contributed a knuckle sandwich” I wisecracked. My hands glowed briefly as I retrieved my throwing knives and sheathed them on my belt. No one laughed, but it more for my amusement than theirs, so nuts to them.
One of their more cynical members saw this and raised a fuss, “So we’ve been liberated from our Valkyrian overlords, only to be enslaved by a Stellar Mage” He spat into the dirt contemptuously.
The man next to him was more sensible and smacked him in the back of his head, “Shut it, Corky! This tall stranger just freed us. Show some gratitude” He reprimanded his neighbor before regarding me, “Thank you kindly, Mister. How can we repay you for this?”
I swiveled my head in the negative, “No repayment necessary. But if you would like to feel the weight of a weapon in your hand and kick these tossers out of your town, head to Rust’s smithy and talk to Starswirl. He’ll organize you against these winged trespassers” I notified them.
Corky heard the name and immediately was averse, “The Stellar Mage loving blacksmith?” He sneered, “How do we know that he isn’t consorting with the invaders right now? In fact, how do we even know that we can trust you for that matter!?” He turned to his kinsmen, “I say it’s a trap, a trick to catch us unawares!” He spouted his paranoia laced conclusions.
The reasonable man slapped a palm to his face at the sheer stupidity of such a statement, “Corky you moron… we were already caught! It seems a bit repetitive to go through the inconvenience of freeing us just to capture us a second time, doesn’t it?” The rest of the congregation processed this and murmured their mutual agreement, “Don’t know ‘bout you, but I’m all too happy to split some skulls” He walked over to an unconscious soldier and looted one of his weapons and some of the protective armor that could fit him, which seven others copied, “It’s been a while since I’ve gripped a sword, but I can recall enough that I still know my way around one. We’ll do as you’ve told us and converse with this Starswirl character. The enemy of my enemy is a friend of mine” He recited the adage, giving the sword a test swing.
“I like your temerity, Mister. In case we don’t meet again, I’m Zenith” I extended my hand for him to grasp.
He took my hand in a firm grip and shook it, “I’m Hoedown. We’re proud to fight alongside you, Zenith”
“As am I” I dispensed with the niceties, “Though if possible, try not to spill any Skyborn blood with fatal intent” I appealed to them, baffling some and allaying others.
“Do you see this!?” Corky just couldn’t learn to keep quiet, “He even wants us to spare them! How can you witless fools not realize that he is with the enemy!?” He demanded of his clansmen, pointing accusingly at me.
“Your blood pressure must be through the roof right now” I dryly quipped, before correcting him for his erroneous delusions, “I only ask this because if you start killing Skyborn, then what’s to stop them from returning the favor on your families still indoors?” I frowned, “Bloodshed begets bloodshed, like the vicious cycle that it is”
“How do we know they won’t kill them once we start rebelling anyway?” One of the men in the crowd understandably voiced his concerns. I was expecting him to point out how the Valkyrians wouldn’t fight with the same inhibitions, but he and his brethren were more of the selfless types.
I leveled with them, “If the Skyborn wanted to kill your families, they would have already done so by now. They aren’t interested in a drawn out fight, and most of the ones I’ve seen up till now are still weary from the flight here. This can be resolved without mortal conflict” I looked down at the benumbed soldiers, drawing a line in the proverbial sand, “This world of ours has excessive ill will in it as it is. Please keep the proliferation of bloodshed to a minimum”
Not answering me verbally, the men in the crowd began to bind the arms and legs of the senseless Skyborn with nearby rope instead of introducing new breathing holes in them. I was charmed to discover that these Agrarians, many of whom were indubitably abused by the other clans in the past, were still capable of listening to reason. They stuffed the napping Valkyrians into the stockroom of a shop that one of their number owned and ten of them made for Rust’s smithy, with the remainder of the less fit Agrarians laying low. Not surprisingly, Corky decided to stay indoors and away from the fighting, content with resisting the Skyborn with words and not actions. Well… maybe I was being somewhat harsh on him. He seemed like the drained type who had bore witness to too much abuse from the clans to be able to trust ostensible members of those clans. Still, having an extra sword or axe in the fight would have been nice.
The first step of Operation Valkyrie (it was a working title) was underway. I’d need to free the other captives throughout town before the patrols noticed that something was amiss and retaliated unfavorably. So I climbed onto the thatched roofs of the housing and ran along their wooden ridges in search of other captive holding zones, taking care to remain still when an airborne patrol got too close for comfort. Just to be extra prepared, I engaged True Sight and tagged as many Skyborn as I could, highlighting their forms with magical silhouettes in my vision. An unexpected side effect of their lightning forged weapons and armor was that they was significantly harder to cast magic on, even indirectly. So the best I got was a bunch of human shaped shades that were missing torsos and shins.
It was sufficient for my purposes though, and it made dodging surprise backtracking patrols a hell of a lot easier. I managed to free a total of three more groups of Agrarians in similar ways to the first, convincing most of them to converge at Rust’s smithy while not committing murder on their incapacitated opponents (Encouraging them to exercise the precautions of putting their bruised bodies out of sight). I was immensely relieved that these people were just as susceptible to moral reasoning as their descendants would be. It made my job less involved that way. I trusted that Starswirl could competently coordinate the resistance against the Skyborn as I sent them on their way. With a grand total of forty four men willing to cause a ruckus, we had just the right number to unshackle Mirrimare and dislodge the Skyborn presence here. The increased activity of frenetic Skyborn patrols told me that the jig was up though, so it was time for me to locate and uproot their leadership.
To do this, I logically gravitated to the center of town, which was the spot with the most concentration of Skyborn on the ground. It took longer than I would have preferred, as the crossbow wielding Valkyrians were occupying the rooftops in the area, and non-lethally taking them out was out of the question with their buddies not five steps away from them. Shifting position back onto the ground (which was cobbled in this richer section), I rounded multiple corners as noiselessly as a specter. Climbing up a ladder into an unoccupied bell tower and de-cloaking, I observed the happenings in a town square that was in front of an official looking building that must have been where the local government officials convened.
I dimmed my other senses with magic and focused solely on my vision and my hearing. Standing in two formations of ten men facing each other, I tagged the security detail and waited for something interesting to occur. I didn’t have to wait long, as the doors to the government building burst open and a moderately well clothed official was cast head over heels into the street. Behind him materialized a furious looking Skyborn officer who was one rebellious remark away from trashing all notions of a peaceful resolution and letting heads roll. He walked over to the disgruntled elderly man and placed his boot on his back to keep him from getting up.
“Your stubbornness is beginning to wear on my patience, dirt dweller” He said in a minatory voice, “Don’t make me stomp on your neck”
“You airheaded brigands are already plundering our fields with impunity” The grounded man coughed out his reply, “What more do you want of us!?”
The officer pressed his boot into his spine, eliciting a pained groan from him, “I know your kind aren’t the brightest tools in the shed, but don’t play stupid with me. Where is the wizard!?” He barked, “Our scouts spotted him entering this town yesterday, so if he isn’t here… then you can tell us where he is going. Can’t you? I’d hate to have to start making examples of what happens to those who defy the almighty Provinces of Valkyria” He maliciously twisted his foot into his back, causing the downed man extreme discomfort, “It tends to get… messy”
“SQAUDRON OFFICER NIMBOSTRATUS! CEASE YOUR ACTIONS AT ONCE!” A stentorian, female voice boomed from above like thunder. Whoever it was possessed some powerful lungs, with her shout being just shy of the Royal Caps Lock voice. I adjusted my vantage point to get a better look at the newcomer, seeing a woman in highly ornate golden armor with a black and red crested helmet that didn’t restrict her vision descend from the sky with her entourage slash escort in tow.
The Squadron Leader reacted immediately, removing his boot from the beaten man in an almost panicked fashion and hastily getting in a crouched position with his right fist to the cobblestone and his head bowed in a gesture of deferential obeisance. The superior officer touched down with fluidic poise and strode towards her subordinate with an unreadable expression on her countenance. Her brisk, rigid pace indicated that she was far from pleased, however.
“Wing Leader Maelstrom, Ma’am” Nimbostratus said, “I was not expecting you to grace us with your presence so soo-” He was interrupted by Maelstrom’s foot forcibly pushing him onto the floor.
“Nimbostratus, you utter imbecile” The Wing Leader growled, “What were my orders to you!?” She grilled him.
“T-to negotiate w-with the town leadership f-for the location of the w-wizard, W-wing Leader!” The once intimidating officer was reduced to a stuttering wreck of a man in the looming shadow of this woman.
She pointed to the abused Agrarian, “And does this look like negotiating to you?” She rhetorically asked her underling in a chilly voice, “You shame the good name of the Skyborn, Squadron Officer. Present yourself to the wagon pullers and offer to take one of their place, on the double” She compelled him with a venomous glare.
“Yes ma’am!” He groveled without hesitation, taking to the sky to get his punishment detail over with. He was deathly afraid of this dominating woman, and I was beginning to see why.
Maelstrom gesticulated with her fingers to the fallen Agrarian, “Get him on his feet. I have to mitigate whatever damage he caused to this town and to our reputation” She sighed tiredly, disappointed by the atrocious behavior of those under her command.
The men following her obeyed, hoisting him onto his toes and holding him there since he looked about ready to keel over again the moment they let go. The Flight Leader (it was the same title to me, as far as I was concerned) unstrapped and removed her crimson crested helmet and a cascade of shoulder length tri-toned hair spilled out, showcasing her red, green, and blue striped locks. Her steely, magenta eyes were sharp and focused, like that of a bird of prey. The Flight Leader’s athletic build was characterized by lean, taut muscling that was ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. Her lithe form was ideal for aerodynamic efficiency and sudden death defying turns at breakneck speeds. If anything, the commander of the Skyborn reminded me of a time displaced Rainbow Dash, minus some hues in her hair.
I blinked, ‘It couldn’t be… could it? Nah… probably just another coincidence’ There was no way I could be meeting the possible ancestors of my friends in such short order.
Maelstrom held the helmet in the crook of her arm and addressed the brutalized man, “On behalf of the Provinces of Valkyria, I apologize for the mistreatment you’ve received at our hands” She formally expressed remorse for what the unruly Skyborn did to Mirrimare.
“Young lady” The elder official began, “A hundred years of apologizing would not be enough to absolve the things the Skyborn running amok in this town have done, let alone the mistreatment that your clan has inflicted on mine. Save your apologies for someone naïve enough to believe them” He rebuffed her attempts at meager atonement.
Maelstrom showed no sign of being angered or shamed by his retort, “Is this about the fields? We’ll only collect two fifths of your farms’ monthly yields, and in return we will become your protectors and tend to the weather for the optimal growth of your crops” She tendered the notorious arrangement that so many Agrarians despised.
The official snorted, “Protection?” He spat out the word, “Who will protect us from you!? You who beat us!? Starve us!? Exploit us to satisfy your own ends!? Damn you and your clan!” He hawked a gob of saliva in Maelstrom’s face. Her men moved to punish the man for his insolence, but the unruffled Wing Leader stilled them with a hand signal.
She wiped her face and leaned closer to the man, “I don’t know what miserable excuse of a Skyborn reneged on these valid promises to you in the past… but I am a woman of my word, and will stay loyal to the tenets of the Skyborn” She pulled back, “As a token of good faith, we will only load up three carts worth of crops to bring back with us” She announced for all in the square to hear. Meanwhile in the bell tower, I was having difficulty getting a fastidious read on this woman, who seemed honorable, but at the same time was the one in charge of these rampant troublemakers.
“But Flight Leader Maelstrom!” One of her men spoke up, “Senator Storm explicitly asked us to bring back twelve shipments on our deployment!” He protested, not doing the image of the Skyborn any favors.
“I am quite aware of that Lieutenant!” She snapped in reply, “But that’s not our primary purpose for being here? Is it?” She countered sternly.
“No ma’am” He stood stiff and straight, “I humbly beg your pardon for speaking out of turn”
“Granted” She nodded affirmatively, “Though I do appreciate not being surrounded entirely by yes men, speak to me of your concerns in private. I don’t enjoy being second guessed in front of our hosts” She returned her attention to the official, “As Squadron Officer Nimbostratus may have told you, our primary purpose for being this far north is to track down a target that the Senator who bid us here has taken an interest in. A certain wizard from the Kingdom of Stellaria who is regarded as somewhat of an enigma by his own clan, if I recall correctly. If you have any information on the whereabouts of this man, it would expedite the process of us vacating this town” She listed the attractive incentive of collaborating with them to the official.
‘Does Starswirl have an advertising billboard rotating over his head? Why are so many people hell-bent on getting their hands on him!?’ I mused in aggravation.
Before the official could say anything, a familiar voice erupted from inside the building, “Don’t listen to their honeyed lies! I know firsthand how the other clans treat those who work with them! Tell these feathered fiends nothing!” A barely restrained Rust tried moving into the open, briefly showing himself by the doorway. It required three Skyborn to keep him subdued, yanking him back inside with an indignant yowl from him.
The official exhaled dejectedly, seeing no alternative but to cooperate, “That blacksmith would know a thing or two about collaborating with the enemy” He shook his head sadly, “The town healer made mention of your wizard, but divulged nothing about how long he would stay here or where he and his companion were going. That’s all I know of the matter… now take your ill gotten gains and leave us in peace, please!” He supplicated.
“A companion you say? I was not made aware of the fact that the wizard wouldn’t be traveling alone” She stroked at her chin, “Did this healer say anything about who he or she was?” She inquired. And I instinctively thought about the recovering Tough Cookie being used against Starswirl as a hostage, which I would not allow. It was time for me to stop surveilling and act.
The man was about to answer (it didn’t matter if he didn’t know. They would go to Vitalitus in the house of healing to interrogate him and endanger Tough Cookie in that manner) when I leapt from the bell tower and slid down the roof tiles of the structure next to it. I landed on the ground and softened the sudden stop with an inertial dampening spell. The men in formation had quick reaction times, and surrounded their leader in a protective circle with practiced motions. The official was promptly dragged inside the government building and had the doors shut behind him to wait out the rest of this confrontation with Rust. I strolled up to the Skyborn until I was within figurative spitting distance. Maelstrom regarded me with interest, though she disguised it under the professional mask on an officer.
She clapped her hands together slowly, “Well, well, well… I’m going to risk a wild guess here and presume that you are the companion of the wizard?” She engaged in discourse with me, secretly commanding her men to be ready to rush me.
I scowled at her detached labeling of my companion, “Starswirl… His name is Starswirl” I clarified for her.
She imperceptibly crooked her head, “Is that what his name is? You will have to forgive me. Senator Storm was awfully skimpy with the details when we were deployed north to bring him in. Who are you? And why do you keep the company of the wizard?” She changed the subject.
“And you’ll have to forgive me when I refuse you the knowledge of my name” I mirrored her words with minor puckishness.
“Rock Head scum!” The lieutenant from earlier speculated my clan identity and derided me with disdain, “Do you not know to whom you speak?” He gestured to her, “This is Wing Leader Maelstrom! Battle Brother to the renowned Captain Hurricane and Daughter of Over-Commander Typhoon! You will show her your respect!” He dictated to me, his men clenching their weapons tightly in unanimous concurrence. Maelstrom herself scowled at this. There was something about her heritage being invoked that bothered her.
Meanwhile my True Sight was picking up on some shades shifting and fluctuating frantically in both eastern and western directions, with some of them even brought low. The insurrection was in full swing now, as the Agrarians I spent the better half of an hour freeing and arming made their move. One flank was collapsing perilously fast, and I knew that Starswirl was directly spearheading that one. Luckily (or perhaps the wizard knew I was in the midst of carrying our the second phase of the plan somehow), that front was heading this way and going at maximum steam. All I would have to do to keep the Skyborn off balance without firm leadership was to keep stalling.
“Huh. I wasn’t of the opinion that I was among the rank and file of such a prestigious persona” I remarked distractedly, approximating their time of arrival at three minutes, “What does your Senator want with Starswirl anyway?”
Her eyebrows quirked, “Bold of you to have the gall to deny me and yet ask questions of me all the same, but I’ll humor you. Senator Storm received an anonymous message from one of his contacts groundside informing him that the wizard Starswirl was on a mission that if he were to succeed in it, he would crumble the very foundations of our Capital City Olympia. Being the insecure crow that he is, he requested that a detachment be sent out to bring the wizard in and ascertain the validity of this claim” She rolled her eyes, “And while I abhor being an errand girl for the Senate, my father owed Senator Storm a favor, so here we are”
“I’ll save you the trouble of wasting your time and elucidate to you that Starswirl’s quest involves all three clans, not just the Valkyrians in your precious Olympia” I enunciated crisply, “He seeks to unite all people under Harmony. And I believe that to be a noble goal, which is why I support him”
“And who would lead us into this Golden Age of Harmony? The Stellar Magi? The Agrarians? Or the Valkyrians?” Maelstrom was skeptical to the idea of unity.
“All of them! And yet none of them” I sagaciously answered in reference to the trinity of the Trifect, ignoring the pertinent fact that I would have to lead too, someday.
She chuckled as she dismissed my spiel, “Quaint as that idea is, the Senate has never been one to change the status quo… and I need to bring your Starswirl in, preferably alive, if I’m to prove myself in the field to my father”
‘She has issues with daddy’s expectations, eh? Where have I seen this before in my past?’ The cycle of repeating themes was uncanny.
“The one who bore you must have been refractory up the wazoo if you’re so obstinate to the truth when you hear it from the proverbial horse’s mouth” I stealthily lambasted her.
Maelstrom’s expression turned steely, and I knew that I hit a sensitive spot, “I grow sick of your nonsense. As this wizard’s companion, you should prove valuable as a bartering chip to get him to surrender quietly and docilely” She made a fist and leveled it at me, “Seize him!”
My hearing picked up on two men swooping down from above to surprise me with a sneak attack. I dodged and rolled out of the way as they slammed into the spot where I was just standing a second ago. They were a tag team of assailants who were equipped with some kind of cestus meant to punch hard and knock out whatever poor sap it was used on. With the ingrained techniques instilled in me from utilizing the muscle memory spell and pairing it with watching hours of martial arts videos, I sidestepped a blitz of a haymaker and landed two pulled punches on the man’s exposed armpit region before grappling him and tossing him into the wall with the momentum of a spin. He was momentarily disoriented, but bounced back and endeavored multiple times to land a punch using a boxing style that involved hooks, jabs, and feints that were too slow for someone like me to be fooled by. Countering his boxing style, I slapped and deflected the force of his blows with Wing Chun motions and maneuvers that Ip Man himself would approve of (Except for not rolling up my sleeves, but that was not a luxury I could afford right now). My attackers were still in armor though, so I had to wear them down by jamming the movement of their limbs and striking at their arms and uncovered bodily regions. I didn’t magically blunt the force of my strikes, but I never retaliated hard enough to cause any lasting damage.
I countered another clumsy attempt at a haymaker by seizing the offending arm and using the man’s impetus against him by flinging him into the air. I ducked under a punch from his comrade and swept him off his feet with a backwards sweeping kick. While he was down, I grabbed his arm and applied the right amount of pressure to his elbow to snap it like a twig. He cried out in pain and clutched at the dislocated limb, disabled and effectively out of the immediate fight. I tried to pull away when the second man closed the gap between us and nabbed me in a constricting hug. I smashed my head back into his helmet (good thing I’m hardheaded) to discombobulate him and coiled around him like a snake when he let go. I folded my arms around his lower waist and slammed him by his spine and neck into the cobblestone street with a German suplex. Stunned by the countermove, he proved easy pickings for a kick to the helmet that put him under.
Feeling confident, I faced the Wing Leader’s troops, “Who’s next? I’ll handle you one at a time or all at once. Makes no difference to me!” I boasted, adrenaline coursing through my veins and hazardously making me feel like I could take on the world.
Maelstrom was fuming at how handily her men were dispatched, and my gloating set her off, “MEN! This one needs to be taught a lesson in humility. Bring him before me with every bone in his body broken in two!” She screeched, glaring at me with the potency of a fusion bomb.
Her soldiers looked all too happy to oblige, and they began to march forth in a single phalanx like unit that wasn’t susceptible to wrestling moves. I reckoned that I could send them flying apart like bowling pins with an applied wave of force spell, but that would akin to removing the kiddie gloves and using lethal force, which was simply not an option I was willing to resort to.
‘Uh oh’ Simpering coyly, I blew a kiss to the raging Maelstrom and turned on my heels, breaking into a sprint to where Starswirl’s band of rebels were duking it out with Skyborn perimeter troops. I whistled sharply to the wizard (who had acquired a one and a half handed sword with a relatively narrow blade at some point to duel with the Valkyrians along with his staff), and motioned for him to trail me.
I didn’t have to look behind me to see that Maelstrom and her men had went airborne in pursuit of me, all I had to do was listen to the outraged commands that she was issuing to her troops as they dealt with this unexpected uprising. The Agrarians, despite being heavily outnumbered and out-equipped, were putting up a shockingly effective resistance. With their home field advantage and fervor to drive the Skyborn out, they fought like madmen, kicking, punching, clashing, cursing, and in most cases causing the normally composed Skyborn troops to retreat and regroup in the air. While I had seen no corpses from either side, the crossbowmen were not afraid to take potshots at the rebels, who either took to cover, or took a bolt to the shoulder. Some of them employed crude wooden shields that absorbed their fire, and used them to defend their brothers in arms. The Agrarians were more resourceful than I imagined, and returned fire with rocks hurled from slings. The town was in uproar, and soon others from inside were inspired to empty out onto the streets to reinforce their neighbors and join in the gestalt defense of their home. It was clear to anyone with eyes that the town of Mirrimare would not tolerate the presence of the Skyborn any longer. The whole scene was chaotic, but oddly thrilling to be a part of at the exact same time.
The wizard spared a glance behind us and yelped as a bolt nearly nailed his hat off, “They look positively livid! What did you do!?” Starswirl demanded to know as we ran for the horses still hitched at the house of healing.
“It amuses me that you instantly think that has something to do with me” I quipped as we turned a corner, only for Starswirl to roughly whack the back of my spine with his staff, “Okay fine! You assumed correctly. I’m pretty sure I subtly insulted the leader’s mother… only she had enough of a wit inside of that fiery head of hers to figure out my meaning. She took umbrage to this of course and sicced her men on me just as the rebellion broke loose. You know the rest” I summarized, casually juking a crossbolt personally shot from Maelstrom.
He threw his arms up in exasperation, “Ancestors preserve me! Is there no limit to your impulsiveness!?” He shouted at me, a spark of anger in his tone.
“Technically, it will be the future generations that will preserve your memory. Some of whom will even draw inspiration from it” I facetiously mentioned offhand, reminiscing of Twilight’s hidden stash of Starswirl the Bearded memorabilia. And I thought Dash was a hardcore fan girl.
“And how are you so sure of this?” He asked with intense, sarcastic skepticism.
“Call it a hunch” I replied, unaffected by his acerbic attitude.
We made it to the horses and Starswirl put up a barrier spell that ricocheted every shot from the irate Valkryians, but Starswirl notified me that it wouldn’t keep people out and wasn’t permanent. They would surround us if we didn’t make haste, so I untied both Night Wind and Daybreak so we could mount up. I urged my steed to gallop like he’d never galloped before as Starswirl took the lead. We rocketed through the riotous streets and out of the town as we hoofed it in the direction of the northern mountains, with vast clearings of wild grass and intermittent copses of trees ahead of us. I noted with approval the panicked looks on the Skyborn out in the farm fields as a mob of incensed Agrarians closed in on them, pressuring them to abandon the mostly filled carts or be overrun.
“Where are we going?” I shouted over the howl of the passing wind as we took a dirt path that nature was gradually reclaiming.
“To an abandoned mine beneath the Frost Teeth Pinnacles!” Starswirl called back, his horse proving to be the faster of the two, “It’s the only place we’ll lose our pursuers!” An arrowed zipped past the space separating us, as if to punctuate his point.
‘It’s situations like this that I regret not having a weapon suited for long range combat. I wouldn’t be able to use it here even if I did… but still. I’ll have to fix that’ I bemoaned to myself as streams of crossbolts just narrowly missed us. Often times by mere inches.
There were at least thirty Skyborn chasing us, and their furious leader was at the fore of the flock, issuing orders for her men to execute. Our horses were fast, and the Skyborn would be faster if they weren’t lugging around cumbersome armor and gear, but we weren’t going to lose them if we relied on speed. Undeterred by their encumbered weight, they were able to swoop down at us, and tried to knock both Starswirl and myself off of our rides several times. Starswirl would bat them away with swipes of his staff that cast minor repulse spells that would cause any Valkyrian who was hit with it to plow into the earth, while I would run interference on the crossbowmen by zigzagging in their line of fire to draw them off Starswirl. I would block particularly accurate crossbolts delivered with love from Maelstrom by rapid casting spells of deflection with my Tantō.
We kept up this song and dance for a good ten minutes until we were in the shadow of the mountains, looming overhead like snowy titans of rock and earth. Before long I spotted the abandoned mine entrance, a half hexagon arch of rotted, frozen over wood that didn’t look outstandingly stable. Maelstrom discerned our plan and threw caution to the wind; ordering her soldiers to loose their arrows with the full intent to kill, content to bring back a dead body rather than no body at all. A screen of crossbolts screamed at us as her men complied. If it weren’t for the fact that I was packing significant reserves of magic to deflect them with, I would have been skewered several times over. Starswirl was not so fortunate with his defensive spell though, and Daybreak took a trio of arrows to the flank that elicited an agonized whinny from her. Unable to gallop with the searing pain in her rump, she tumbled forward and Starswirl was ejected from his horse a second occasion.
I stifled a curse as Night Wind and I overtook them. Realizing that this quest would be for naught if Starswirl got caught, I eliminated all pretenses of publicly pretending to be a Stellar Mage and spread my wings in preparation to fly. Verbally bidding Night Wind to enter the mine without me on his back, I flapped my wings and flew back to retrieve Starswirl myself. The pursuing Valkyrian closest to me was perceptively stunned by the revelation that I was airborne before I literally stunned him with the flat of Dichotomy (which I assembled in midair) to his face, which I had to repeat with many other Skyborn that were obstructing me from my companion. I alighted to the ground next to Starswirl and swatted away another crossbolt from Maelstrom, who had recovered from her shock faster than her stupefied men. Grabbing the dazed wizard, I mouthed an apology to Daybreak, who I’d have to leave behind (I couldn’t practically carry a horse with me, now could I?) and zoomed to the mine entrance with the feather weighted wizard on one arm. He gave me a bewildered gaze the entire flight there, but knew better than to confront me about it now.
“The support columns” The wizard wheezed, still winded from the fall, “Destroy the columns and collapse the entrance” He pleaded, unable to do it himself at the moment.
Depositing him by the wall, relinquishing my sword, and hurriedly taking his staff in my hands (even disoriented he clutched to that thing like it was a part of him. Which I suppose it was), I set about demolishing the already weakened wooded support columns at the entrance and pounding at the roof. I discovered that the staff had the same useful quality as my Tantō in that it decreased the pause before a spell could be casted exponentially, allowing me to shoot off several force spells that crushed the columns until they gave out under the weight of the rocky roof they were holding up. I jumped out of the way of a man sized boulder as the roof fractured and folded in on itself. The dubious integrity of the entrance was abundantly overt as it showered the entrance with rocky debris, until the light from outside was smothered out and we were submerged in complete darkness.
I coughed to vacate my throat of particulate matter as the dust finished settling and tranquility was restored. The amount of debris blocking the entrance was so thick that even Maelstrom’s orotund voice would be muted as she doubtlessly exploded at her underlings on the other end. I grinned as I imagined how she must have been burning red with anger at this setback. Not only did she not capture Starswirl, she had lost control of the town of Mirrimare to a rabble of farmers that weren’t even trained to fight! I continued smirking to myself at how we made the Skyborn look flat footed in the span of an hour as I picked myself up and dusted myself off. The elated feeling of victory wore off with the passage of time and the sobering realization that we were trapped in this dark and dreary mine with no way out that was currently apparent. I felt someone snatch the staff out of my hands with an indignant huff as Starswirl regained his breath.
“We have but one choice now” Starswirl announced with a begrudging rumble of his voice, tapping his staff against the ground thrice and lighting the crystal affixed to the tip with increasing brightness, “We must brave the long dark of these dreadful mountains. Be on your guard” He warned me, “It’ll be a two day journey to the other side by the shortest route, and it will be fraught with peril. But we must go ahead if we intend to shake off our relentless pursuers from cutting us off at the other end. We must be silent and swift, for there are older and much fouler things dwelling in the deep places of the world, and our provisions have been drastically reduced by the loss of our steeds” He assessed the situation grimly.
“Night Wind isn’t lost” I confuted him, “He should be deeper in the tunnel waiting for us” I picked up my blade and disassembled it.
“Night Wind?” He raised an inquisitive brow, “Don’t tell me you named your horse?”
“I didn’t… that’s his birth name” I retorted.
“And how would you know that?” He prodded me with his staff, not believing me. That’s going to be an annoying habit of his, isn’t it?
I crossed my arms together, “Uhh… I asked him” I replied with a heaping hint of sarcasm.
“It’s ultimately irrelevant to me how you know his name” He shook his head and jingled his hat bells, “If we can find him, then our chances of surviving these tunnels won’t be so dismal”
“Age before beauty” I gestured with my arm for him to guide the way.
“You and Clover would get along famously” He muttered to himself, obliging me as we moseyed down the tunnel to rejoin Night Wind and burrow under the mountains in our journey to reach the Dreamy Vale.
We found the equine with some difficulty (midnight black coats tend to blend in seamlessly with the darkness) shivering at the limit of the tunnel that opened into a cavern with steep slopes that went straight down into inky blackness that seemed bottomless. I mollified the frightened creature with my voice and assured him that everything would be all right, with a perplexed Starswirl watching our interaction with veiled intrigue. I suppose I would be puzzled too if I watched someone perform as a temporally displaced stand in for Fluttershy. It was ironic that Night Wind was afraid of the darkness, but I wasn’t going to judge him for his fear, since this underground setting was thoroughly creepy to me as well.
Night Wind’s echoing hoof steps were the only noise that marked our coming and going as Starswirl used a path finding spell that probed all possible routes that would conduct us out to the opposite side of the mountain most efficiently. With the results inconclusive so far, we had to tread the approximate route to the nearest exit. To be honest, the first twelve hours or so (again, time is hard to tell when you are literally being kept in the dark) of traversing the underground caverns in the belly of the mountains were terribly boring. The abandoned mining equipment strewn throughout the mine was of passing interest to me, but there were no veins of priceless Mithril that reflected silvery light when the crystal on Starswirl’s staff would shine on them, just run of the mill copper and iron veins. I wanted to ask why the mines here were ditched in what looked to be a harrowed hurry, but Starswirl was uncharacteristically quiet the whole time, likely deep in thought over something.
We stopped by a cranny in the downward sloped cavern wall to rest much later, having walked the seemingly never ending pathways until our feet were sore. I had scavenged some of the wood from the collapsed entrance to use as wood for a campfire and flayed it into ignitable strips. It was slightly frozen, but had thawed enough that it would burn and provide warmth in the chilly, stagnant air of the cave. Starswirl pragmatically fashioned a frosted cup from the ice in the walls and melted small chunks of them to use his purification spell on. He sipped at the icy cup to test the water and deemed it adequate, drinking his fill before refilling it and sharing it with me (I felt static when he handed the cup to me, but paid it no mind). I dug into Night Wind’s saddlebags and extracted the salted meats and hardtack for consumption, feeding the organic veggies to him first. Hardtack wasn’t as bad as I’d presumed it would be, although turning it into a pork sandwich did wonders to nullify the dry, stale taste of the biscuit.
When we had settled in around the fire as comfortably as being isolated under a mountain could get, Starswirl initiated a conversation, “I believe it is time for us to speak candidly with each other”
“And what if I am too exhausted to maintain a coherent discussion?” Was my crotchety response. I was not in the mood for the twenty questions game he had been delaying for some time now.
“Then I would suggest getting a second wind” Starswirl riposted, “Let’s say that I put a spell on you, Zenith, Adventurer Extraordinaire. And that whenever you told me a falsehood, a Hex would give you a nasty zap” He waved a hand reassuringly, “It would be nothing debilitating, I promise you. Though it would encourage you not to lie to me” He said in a voice more serious than any I’d heard from him yet. He suspected me of mischief, and desired to understand it before making judgments.
I was not moved, “Well it’s a good thing that this spell is a hypothetical one then” I noted, struggling to find a non jagged surface to lay back upon.
“It is not suppositional” Starswirl declared with certainty, “Pay attention to your elders and stop being so damned disrespectful” He chided me, using magic to pull me upright by the hood.
“Why Starswirl, you insult me! Though your lingering suspicion is well placed, I’ll grant you. You haven’t a thing to fear from me” I crooned in mock offense, simultaneously testing this hex of his.
When nothing befell me, Starswirl grumbled something and spoke, “If that’s true, then you won’t mind indulging some curiosities that have been eating at me since you and I started working together then, won’t you friend?”
“Ask away, friend” I couldn’t help but snark, “Though it’s only fair that we swap inquiries while we’re at it. How about it? You ask me a question that I’ll do my best to answer, and you satisfy my own curiosities then, hmm?” I sensibly proposed.
“Very well” He tentatively agreed, “What were you really doing in that forest before you happened upon Cookie and I in our most dire moment?” He initiated the exchange with the circumstances of our first meeting.
I shrugged to him, “Walking in the woods” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t comprehensive enough to be considered worthy of Applejack’s standards either. The wizard murmured under his breath about my disappointingly barebones answer, but did not protest.
My turn, “If I’m not mistaken, the Stellar Magi and the Agrarians aren’t on the best of terms, preferring to seclude themselves from one another until they have necessary dealings with the other clan. So why was the distinctly Agrarian Tough Cookie with you as your chronicler? Such partnerships are considered taboo, no?” Tough Cookie even admitted that her folks would virtually disown her for her friendship with the wizard.
Starswirl hummed as he pondered how to properly explain this, “Because neither of us believe in something so petty as clan traits dividing us as a true people” He answered as he took a thawed log and fed it to the fire to keep it alive, “Tough Cookie and I are members of a secret, unofficial organization calling itself the Triumvirate. It consists of all those who believe that unity is what’s best for all of us, and we have many prominent members in the upper echelons of their respective societies. I myself am the highest ranked representative of the Stellar Mage branch. Once every few months, our council members convene and share the news of the affairs arising in their territories, often recommending counteracting courses of actions to prevent negative events from transpiring and agitating the enmity between the clans further. We hope to someday maneuver our governments so that our peoples will see past their differences and unite under a single banner, instead of three. Tough Cookie’s sister Smart Cookie will prove a vital informant should the Chancellor candidate Puddinghead be elected to lead the Combine”
‘It’s a shame that won’t go according to plan’ It was reputed once that Puddinghead had jello for brains, and was elected only because the idiocy of the previous chancellor made a changing of the guard an appealing option to the masses. Politics… where a person strictly named Smart Cookie would be relegated to the assistant of someone named Puddinghead. Some things never change, no matter where or when you are.
It was his turn to question me, “Where do you hail from, Zenith? And how are you capable of casting magic and demonstrating the ability of flight? I’ve never heard of such a thing being possible” He was so amazed by this that he bent the rules of our conversational engagement.
I wiggled a reproachful finger at him, “That’s two questions, Starswirl. Though to answer the first, I hail from a land colloquially known as Orange County” I looked to the side, “The second is… complicated. You see… I’m one of a kind in this time period” I danced around the subject.
He scratched at his scraggly chin, “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that place. Though it sounds like a designation that the Agrarians would give to one of their regions. And what do you mean by time period? Speak sense!” He gruffly demanded of me.
I contemplated how best to answer that without revealing too much, but couldn’t figure fibbing anything that wouldn’t be outright lying to him. I didn’t place too much stock in his Hex having a severe effect on me, but I supposed that he deserved to know the truth if this partnership was to prosper.
“What I’m about to confide in you does not leave these mountains. Ever. Am I understood, Starswirl?” I stipulated to him in a tone that brooked no contention.
He nodded his acceptance, “You have my word that I will be the ideal confidant. I will repeat nothing of what I hear from you to anyone else. I swear this ’pon my honor, and on my magic” As if to confirm this, his staff pulsed brightly, holding him to his word on pain of losing his magic. I blinked at this. I didn’t know that was a legit thing here.
I nodded as well, satisfied with his binding oath. I clasped at the edges of my hood and pulled it back, revealing my face in full clarity to the wizard. His eyes widened and his jaw began to sink as he beheld my forehead, “N-no Focal Gem? How is it possible for you to be casting such potent magic without one?” He was flabbergasted.
My shoulder rose and fell, “I have no idea” I then held an index finger and thumb to my chin in rumination, “Though I think that my eyes act as a kind of substitute, since they glimmer whenever I Will them to or after casting some powerful spells in quick succession”
“But every Mage earns their Mana Mark before they are able to cast with such competency!” He protested, not believing that someone like me could deviate from the rules simply because I was different.
“That’s the thing” I said, painstakingly rolling up the left sleeve of my robes until my shoulder was bare. “I don’t hav-…” I paused and blinked repeatedly at the Mana Mark that was present on my flesh, wondering to myself if I was seeing things. It was the same Mana Mark that I gave my pony illusion back in Crystal City, down to the Omega symbol and enclosed Star, “Huh… that wasn’t there before” I tediously rolled up my right sleeve and found that shoulder to be unmarked, “Weird…” I remarked with indifference. As long as half of me was unmarked, I was okay with this.
‘The Mana Mark Maidens will freak if they find out about this’ How would they even react to the discovery that you could earn and yet not earn your Mana Mark? I don’t think I was going to risk them ever uncovering this. And I’m not just deciding this because I’d no longer be eligible to join their adorable little organization.
Starswirl’s confusion only increased with this, “You are a man of many contradictions, Zenith” He opined as he rubbed at his creased forehead, “I don’t even know which of the clans you would belong to even if that lack of a Focal Gem on your forehead was not the case”
“Whichever one is the most American” I joked, before returning my jocose tone to earnestness, “I don’t belong to any one clan, though I am a fusion of all three. I am the embodiment of the unity that you yearn for so badly, Starswirl. It’s fitting that I should be the one accompanying you, isn’t it?”
Starswirl received these bombshells relatively well. I think the shock of so many surprises bombarding him at once meant that they were losing their influence on him, “What are those like you called?” He investigated, after taking a second to collect himself.
“Trifect. You’re staring at a Trifect” I succinctly replied, before realizing that I had just coined the term. Only time travel would present me the unparalleled opportunity of being both the coiner and the learner of the prestigious clan classification for the Princesses… and me, I guess. I wasn’t ready to become a Prince just yet.
“Trifects” He tested each syllable of the word on his tongue with an approving expression, “Are there more of these… Trifects?” He asked, a definite glint in his eyes that indicated to me that he was mulling over the possibility of recruiting more of them to his cause.
My brow furrowed, “It is doubtful that there are others currently like me. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the only one in this time period” The two heroines of Starswirl’s paramount prophecy had to be Celestia and Luna. But were those two admirable women Trifects for all of their lives? Or did they become them? They did use the word ‘ascension’ to imply on certain occasions that they were not always the Princesses that their subjects venerated in the highest (particularly Cadence), but I did not know if that was meant in a poetic or exact sense. Ironically… only time would clarify that for me.
“You keep saying that. But you’ve been dodgy about enlightening me to your meaning” Starswirl remonstrated me, “Care to explain?” He verbally prodded, abandoning the concept of a fair exchange of inquiries.
“Honestly, Starswirl? I don’t belong here” My tone was solemn, “You’re going to have to keep a pretty open mind about this, but I’m actually from a time period about a millennium removed from now… give or take a few decades” I left out the minor detail that I wasn’t originally from this world, since I had no clue how I would authenticate that claim to him, “A powerful magic that I do not understand is responsible for my arrival here, and I’m essentially lost”
“A spell to let one travel through time? How utterly fascinating!” He treated the notion with riveted appeal, his astute mind figuring how to formulate the mental spell matrix necessary to accomplish such a deed.
‘And now I’ve awakened his motivated desire to innovate the famous time blink spell. Perhaps this world’s history isn’t as malleable as I thought if I’m acting as the inspirational push for one of its most famous figures’ I cogitated with faint amusement.
He stammered as he remembered the most pertinent ramifications of sharing room with a time traveller, “Look at me obsessing over a flashy spell like one of my star struck students, when I should be asking what is the future like! Do we succeed in uniting the clans!?” He beseeched me for the answer to this one, looking desperate to know how history would remember his deeds.
My lip curled upwards at him, “Relax Starswirl. Everything will work itself out just fine” I ambiguously assured him, not risking upsetting the flow of events that led to the wondrous Arcania that I had grown fond of.
“But surely you can tell me more!?” He pressed, his voice distraught.
“I can… but I won’t” I shook my head, “As an intellectual, you must realize that divulging information about the events of the future can change things for better… or for worse. I will not take liberties with my displacement in time, and you will ask me nothing else on the subject” I would not be dissuaded from this opinion, either.
He sighed in resigned concurrence and leaned back, “You’re right. I must not discard the faith that has driven me this far. I will be content with your assertion that all will be well. But I have other curiosities that must be satisfied. For instance, how did you find yourself lost in time and space?”
“By following the whims of the unseen” I dryly quipped, “It feels like it’s been a veritable eternity since I stepped through a mirror that doubled as a portal. It was an intentional decision, as I would lose something irreplaceable to me if I didn’t. I was…” I trailed off, neutrally recalling the Crystal City Incident (That time I ate at In & Oat Burger still makes me weep metaphorical tears of blood whenever I think about it), “…elsewhere for a time, striving to unlock the means to return. The way back to where I came from was available again after impressing some four leggers with some awesome rock music… it’s not a story worth hearing. And now in spite of all that effort, I’m stuck in the wrong era, adrift in the sea of time. I was wandering that forest in search of a way back to familiarity when our paths met up”
“I see…” Starswirl processed this, “And how will you return home?” He posed to me the one question that I didn’t have the answer to.
“I don’t know” I confessed somberly, “As I’ve said, I’m stuck. In the last instance, the portal that conveyed me elsewhere was apparent to me, but I woke up in those woods. I have no way of knowing where the portal will be this round” I groused, cynically considering that I might become an unwilling time traveller.
“Someone who lives an extraordinary life such as yours does not stay stuck for long” Starswirl sagaciously stated, “Especially not when they’re the second hero of the prophecy. You will find a way back to whenever you come from” He affirmed with confidence, “But in the meantime, you have a purpose here to fulfill”
“How can I not feel emboldened with verve when you put it that way?” I chuckled, “You know I’ll stand by you as we seek out these enigmatic maidens of yours, make no doubt of that” I stopped my laughter, “But while I’ve come clean to you, I must request the same of you to me”
“What would you have of me?” He rumbled out a yawn, beginning to feel the effect of weariness wear on him. He was spry for his age, but he did not possess unlimited reserves of energy.
“I need to know more about these Acolytes of Chaos, and their Herald… Cross” I would no demur on this. I’d need to know more about the men who were still after Starswirl, and therefore would be after me by extension.
Starswirl inhaled sharply, yanked back from the brink of nodding off at the mere mention of Cross, “You truly do not know about the heinous infamy of Double Cross? Fine… but I will not be held responsible for any nightmares you may receive upon hearing how he extinguished his own family like they meant less than nothing to him” He growled, revulsion saturating each of his words.
“He… murdered his own family?” I was aghast at this, “Why? For what possible reason would he commit such an atrocity?” Such an act was nearly unthinkable.
“When they found him bathing in their blood and beaming like a madman, I couldn’t believe it” The wizard swiveled his head in non acceptance, “He was an exceptional student in magic, memorized his studies and performed intricate spells with the mastery of an expert. He was among the initial selection that would be evaluated for their worthiness to become my personal apprentice. He could be charming, well spoken, and had a charismatic charm to him that persuaded many to endear themselves to him. But there was always something off about him whenever you’d look him in the eye, which should have been our first hint that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing”
His staff glowed and the fireplace flickered before taking on a definition in which images and faces could be seen from someone’s point of view. The wizard was using the campfire to project his memories with, “When they brought him before the council of justice, he had taken leave of his senses, raving about how some dissonant god promised him power beyond power to enhance himself above his position as the second son of his house, which was unfavorable to his ambitions. He desecrated his own flesh and blood, painting the queerest symbols and marks on the walls with their vital fluids… on the false promises of his own fragmented conscious” Memories were flashed up of a Great Hall of some noble house, whose stone walls were almost entirely defaced with ominous looking circular patterns drawn with blood that had long since dried.
“How is he even still alive then?” I balked incredulously, “You figure that a gruesome kin slaying like that would be punished with a death penalty”
Starswirl looked ashamed, turning away slightly, “I may have had an influence on the trial. When I was called to witness for the behavior of Double Cross in the weeks preceding the murders, I told them only what I had seen. Cross had behaved no more differently than he usually did, continuing to honor his house with the incredible advances in his studies. When the council made their decision with what to do with him, they had voted on removing his magic and banishing him from Stellaria permanently”
“Remove his connection to magic?” I parroted, “How does that work?”
Starswirl grimaced, “It is… not a pleasant process, and in some cases would be an ever worse fate than death for many a Stellar Mage. Doubly so for Cross” Starswirl said, perhaps unaware of the pun he had made, “He was brought before six members of the Stellar Council; an assortment of the most powerful and experienced mages in the kingdom, men and women who routinely moved the Sun and Moon across the firmament in concert. With their magic working together, they delved into his body’s innate ties with magic and severed them, shattering Cross’s Focal Gem and causing him unimaginable agony. This punishment rendered him forever unable to cast magic for the remainder of his life”
“He should have factored that into his decision making before murdering his family in cold blood” I uttered spitefully. He’d get no pity from me, no one so fixated on their lust for power could ever justify slaying their own kin.
With my own weariness loosening some of my verbal inhibitions, I continued with my berating of his character, “Don’t you find it ironic that a former pupil named Double Cross… betrayed everything that you and the Stellar Magi considered sacrosanct?” I scoffed derisively as I took a sip of water from the ice cup (Which was enchanted to not melt until the charm had worn off), “It’s a pity you didn’t say something that would kill him when you had the chance”
“Pity?” He stared incredulously at me, “It was pity that stayed my tongue. I once saw that there was goodness in him, and it pains my heart greatly to know that he has fallen so deeply into shadow. But I feel that he has a part to play in forthcoming events that I do not yet understand, whether it be for good or ill purposes equally eludes me. There are many that live who deserve death, and there are some that die who deserve life. Can you give it to them?” He brought up a difficult conundrum, giving me pause. It was something that he did not hesitate to capitalize on, “Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. There is quite enough of it going around in these tempestuous times”
“I respect your wisdom, Starswirl” I inclined my head to him, “But to me there is only one reliable way to effectively cope with remorseless evil like that. If I ever come across this man or any of his murdering ilk again… I will be dealing out plenty of death and judgment” I pledged, clenching my hands until the whites of my knuckles were showing.
“Be wary that in fighting this evil… you do not become like it, Zenith” There was something in Starswirl’s warning that had an odd quality to it, and I was compelled to unclench my fists and gaze at the imbrued hands that had already spilled so much blood. Was I so vindictive that I was emulating the evil that I found so repugnant in order to combat it?
“Let’s change the subject” I punctually spoke up, feeling uncomfortable with this train of thought, “I’ve heard enough about the reprehensible Double Cross”
“Of course” Starswirl was sympathetic to the cognitive dissonance that he had engendered in me, “What else would you like to know about?”
“Tell me about yourself” I requested in a cordial tone, “We’ve been so preoccupied with saving Tough Cookie’s life and chasing after these heroines that I haven’t gotten the chance to know more about you as a person”
Starswirl hummed, “And they haven’t written about me in the history books?” He subtly fished for info on how he would be remembered. It wasn’t dangerous knowledge, so I could let him have that at least.
“Of course they have!” I exclaimed, “Your name is all but synonymous with the field of magic and spell innovation. You’re seen as a role model for many a talented mage, some of whom I’m well acquainted with (‘Perhaps too well acquainted with, in fact. Twilight did practically interface with my soul’)” I related, “History will remember you in an immensely positive light”
The wizard smiled, the expression suiting his slightly wrinkled face, “You have haven’t the faintest idea how much it warms my heart to hear such news”
“Don’t tell me the great Starswirl the Bearded was never anything other than absolutely sure of himself. That would be preposterous!” I teased him in a jolly tone, lifting the mood a tad in these drab caverns. Despite being meant as a joke, Starswirl’s Hex gave me an insignificant zap that sent a tingling sensation up and down my spine, “Hmmf! Your Hexes are tame, Starswirl” I raspberried at him like a juvenile.
His smile morphed into a grin, “Wiseacre. You might be even more cheeky than my clever student Clover”
The remainder of the night was spent learning about Starswirl’s origins. Vitalitus had told me only exiguous bits about his upbringing that left me hungry for more, so it was satisfying for the wizard himself to recount how he was born to the Noble House Galaxy in the lofty town of Starwick. His hometown was like most Stellar Mage settlements, erecting intimidating battlements and durability enchanted stonewalls that made each town an effective stronghold. Their natural position in the mountains meant that high winds discouraged attacks from the air by the Skyborn as well. The Stellar Magi constructed their cities and towns like this out of fear of reprisal from the Agrarians below, who they commonly lorded themselves over and generally treated like serfs and servants. Starswirl’s own distaste for the current system in place regarding the treatment of non Stellar Mage clans started when he witnessed his mother Andromeda treating one of their Agrarian maids like she was less than trash when he was a boy.
However, as the first born son of his House, Starswirl was groomed by his parents to one day become the Lord of House Galaxy; which was well known for its expertise in astronomy, and even advised the Stellar Council on how to best maintain the firmament on several occasions. He considered his father Starbright to be an honorable man, though one that was constricted by that same honor to follow the traditions of condescension for the ‘lesser clans’ as the Stellar Magi scornfully referred to them. His father would openly copy the example of his kith and kin, but would privately treat his fellow being with dignity. Starswirl vowed at an early age to be a hundred percent different, and it showed over the years as he grew older and wiser. He practiced civil disobedience by behaving towards his Agrarian servants with respect and even taking over their duties when they were unable due to various reasons that were commonplace in a simpler time, despite being a lordling. His parents noticed this and tried to wean him off of it (his mother did anyhow), educating him that the prerogative of the Stellar Magi was to dominate the lower clans. They moved the very bodies of the Heavens after all. Why shouldn’t they be the ones to rule over lowly dirt farmers and brutish featherbrains?
Unsurprisingly, their lessons bounced and Starswirl only became more vocal with his radical ideals, earning him the disfavor of his community despite how he was the first in all of his classes when it came to magic and other scholastic studies. One day, the then young teenager preached to the wrong crowd and earned the personal disfavor of House Galaxy’s liege lords, House Unicum. The apoplectic lord dragged Starswirl through the streets and back to his house by his ears before he tossed him before his father in his own home. He was angrily accused of harboring ‘Anti Stellarian’ sentiments for the lesser clans, which would deem him as a traitor to his Kingdom. The understandably distraught Starbright was faced with two decisions. He could falsely admit to instilling these heretic principles in his son and let himself and his House take the heat, or disavow him as the heir to his household in favor of his kid brother, Starstreak. Being the ‘honorable’ man that he was, Starbright chose to strip Starswirl of his rights of inheritance and exile him from his home. Undeterred, the nescient Starswirl went down among the Agrarians and mingled with them, learning their customs, how they tilled and sowed the soil, and their overall way of life. Starswirl’s pained expression and implicit undertones during one part of the story alluded to the fact that he may have even found love once, but one that was simply not meant to be.
Starswirl did not just have a merry way of things merely because he was an aberration among the Stellar Magi. Many Agrarians fostering bitter resentment towards all of the Stellar Mage clan harassed and ostracized the youthful wizard, accusing him of horrible things like spying, brainwashing, and even raping a tavern wench that he made grateful comments to on a regular basis for her heedfulness. It did not take long for the condemnatory community to oust him from their midst and harshly remind him that he was an exile to more than just his own people. Dusting himself off and putting one foot in front of the other, Starswirl traveled from town to town, many of them owned in all but name by the Stellar Magi or the Valkyrians; and none of them gave him a particularly amiable welcome. The wizard was a vagabond during this phase, never staying anywhere for a duration longer than three months. He performed entertaining tricks and did menial jobs whenever he could to keep himself fed, but conceded that he missed his old life of living in the lap of luxury.
These trials did serve their purpose though, and Starswirl’s aptitude with magic increased exponentially as the months that imperceptibly turned into years went by. A tough life of never living in one place and roaming dangerous roads inculcated a habit of molding his magic to whatever need suited him whenever he required it most. His reputation also began to remove the tarnish that it had incurred through his charitable work and speeches that the clans did not have to be divided, and that all could share in prosperity, if they so chose it. Humble audiences of one or two incrementally amplified into throngs of dozens as people flocked to him, if only to see the novelty of a Stellar Mage that was so against his own clan’s highborn attitudes. Dishearteningly, these speeches netted all accolades and little action on the parts of the Agrarians, who had been under the thumb of the other two clans for too long. Their learned hopelessness vexed Starswirl, but he realized that he wasn’t going to change things with words alone.
There was a recurring theme that I had noticed in Starswirl’s life. There was a lack of solid friends to stand by him during good and bad times, to laugh with him during his triumphs, and to comfort and weep with him when nothing seemed to be going right. I recall the Princesses remarking how Starswirl could have been even more powerful in magic if he embraced friendship the way that Twilight and her friends did. While I could partially agree with that assessment, there was more to it than that to me. In him I saw a fellow spirit of rugged individuality, one that wanted to change the world for the better, but did not strictly rely on friends to see them through the day. Though the comparisons broke down in that Starswirl’s individuality was ingrained in him by a life of solitude, whereas mine was an intrinsic preference. At the very least, I could claim that I had a friendship with this man, even if it was one forged under the fires of hardship.
Perhaps by chance or by fate, Starswirl was contacted by a member of a burgeoning movement that was calling itself the Triumvirate, which had been observing him for some time in one of the densely populated, Combine governed Agrarian towns. They recognized in him the same spirit of spit and fire that motivated them and soon inducted him into their ranks, exposing him to a whole strata of politics and political maneuvering that he had never known before. Starswirl adapted expeditiously, and joined his brothers and sisters of the Triumvirate in enacting real change through small victories, such as diverting attention away from a village that the Skyborn or Stellar Magi had their greedy eyes on, or through encouraging a sense of community among the isolated Agrarian towns so that they would stand united against their oppressors. Being a secretive organization that knew how to mask its fingerprints, the Triumvirate was in no danger of discovery by any of the clans as being a guiding hand that empowered both the individual and collective populace.
But as fulfilling as these minor victories were, they were insufficient in enacting wide scale reform in Starswirl’s opinion. The opportunity to rectify that came when Starswirl’s prestige with magic had garnered him the attention of the Stellarian noble families through hearsay. They overlooked his status as a shamed exile when they heard about how this man could reputedly cast spells that were equal tier to some of those cast by their Stellar Council, and at more than half their age! They were careful about it though, and offered Starswirl a modest position as a personal tutor of magic and other studies to their offspring. His new job paid well and allowed Starswirl to indirectly influence the future by imprinting his connate principles upon his students (Though in a twist of irony some of it would bounce off in much the same way his parent’s ‘lessons’ would bounce on him).
Starswirl was a patient man, who would wait years and sift through several pupils of prestigious families before he had enough sway to become a direct player in Stellarian politics. He initiated the first step of his grand scheme by reconnecting with his younger brother, whom he had not seen for over a decade and had become the new lord of House Galaxy after their father had passed away. Touchingly, their reunion was heartfelt and tearful, as Starstreak had always looked up to his maverick of an elder brother. Starswirl confessed that it was probably for the best that he did not become the lord of the House, as Starstreak had done an impeccable job of furthering the influence and honor of their House. This put them almost on par with their liege lords, who had fallen into shame after a scandal involving one of their daughters consorting romantically with a servant boy. That boy was executed, while the girl comparatively got a slap on the wrist. This event incensed Starswirl and served as fuel for his righteous crusade against the injustices that the Stellarian Kingdom had committed.
Starswirl kept in close contact with his allies in the Triumvirate, and was instrumental in keeping them updated on salient developments before they fermented into events that would inflict unwarranted suffering on the innocent. It was through that organization that Starswirl found a rare friend in Tough Cookie, a girl of modest upbringing in the Agrarian community whose sister was strategically placed in the Combine to work her way up the greasy rungs of the ladder to become an aide to the Chancellor, who was the de facto ruler of the Agrarians and a King in all but title and power to enact certain laws (Though the Combine was less than a third as influential as the Provinces of Valkyria or the Kingdom of Stellaria. But at least they were pro democracy!). Tough Cookie was officially his chronicler, but was unofficially his diplomat when it came to negotiating with rogue Agrarian settlements that needed to be brought into the fold before they could be exploited by either clan for ownership of their fields. He interrupted his tale to pointedly tell me that I was going to be taking over her duties in that regard, since the insular Agrarians in the Dreamy Vale were known for having no love for anyone who was not like them.
Starswirl wrapped up his recounting of his life’s work with the same thing he had told me before. The Prophecy of the Sisters of Fate that alluded to complete unification under Harmony was too tempting for him to pass up on. This, coupled with the reports of a duo of women’s heroic achievements in the far north, was the crack that split the dam of reserved action and let forth the waters of hope filled resolution. Starswirl publicly announced that he was taking an extended leave of absence and that he did not know when he was coming back. This of course elicited a negative response from the nobles and even the King’s family (who had all benefited from his skill with magic), who went so far as to forbid his departure under insinuated threats of dishonor. Starswirl, being the rogue he is, virtually flipped them the bird, mounted a horse, invited Cookie along, and set off in search of the heroines we were currently after.
The wizard kind of skimmed over the Acolytes of Chaos though, labeling them only as crazed fanatics of the Agrarians and Stellar Magi that were corrupted into following their magic deprived leader Double Cross, who pretentiously named himself their Herald of Chaos. From what Starswirl could discern from his unpleasant encounters with them, they worshipped an obscure being that was claimed to have been capable of anything and everything. They believed that by worshiping this being and following its self proclaimed Herald, it would unite the clans under their backwards concept of disharmony. I frowned at this explanation, not being a fan of religious fanatics myself. They were a recently created faction, and Starswirl had no doubt that the Triumvirate was already counteracting them in the south. But it was their apparent base of operations in the Dreamy Vale that had Starswirl most concerned. If the wizard had figured out the meaning of the prophecy, then so too would his power craving, once a pupil in magic fellow exile. And he had the advantage of a head start. I did not share his fears, for I had the utmost faith in these heroines if they genuinely were who I suspected they might be.
I was so riveted by his in depth story that an hour must have faded away as surely as the campfire was losing its flame. I let out a yawn that proved contagious as the wizard and I exchanged wishes of good nights and of restful sleep. Night Wind sensed that we were on the brink of sleep and lay down beside me by folding in his legs, nickering his horsey version of ‘Sleep tight!’. We would need our energy for the rest of the journey through the bowels of the mountain… and things would only get harder for us as we went.
I dreamt of the women I loved, and how much I missed each of them.
⁂
Starswirl was one of those few people whose body clock could trump mine. He woke me with his habitual prodding of the staff, urging me to awake and alerting me to the welcome news that his path finding spell, which had been working nonstop throughout the night, had found a way out of these accursed mountains that was only a four hour’s walk away! I roused Night Wind from his slumber and imparted the same news to him, which he received with a relieved whicker. We skipped out on breakfast since the leftover hardtack by itself would be like eating stale cereal without any milk to wash it down with. Starswirl took point as we left behind our campsite, not bothering to snuff the glowing embers of the campfire since they would die down with our nonattendance. It came as no surprise, but the pathways of the mountain did not become drastically different for the first three and three quarters of an hour of repetitive walking. That’s the only thing I was not a fan of about adventures… they entailed too much freaking trudging onwards.
To better pass the time and to tune out the grumbling of my mouth and stomach, Starswirl flung me a map that he had kept in his robes that illustrated the continent we were on, instructing me to educate myself and quit my bellyaching. I discovered with slight dismay that I was indeed not in an ancient version of Arcania. Everything was new, from the names of the mountain ranges, to the valleys below, and the cloud based city-states in the sky. There was no official name for the continent itself that the three clans could agree upon (each having their own self glorifying label), so I gave it one of my own: Precania. The map was incredibly detailed, and even had markers for the kind of topography and wind conditions one could expect in the legend. The map only covered most of the continent though, and was ambiguous on what we could expect once we had entered into the Dreamy Vale, which had been largely forgotten. I did see hints of an unexplored land bridge heading to the east that just screamed ‘colonization route’ to me.
Starswirl was visibly on edge as we drew nearer to his exit, and sniffed at the acrid air repeatedly. I noticed bizarre features in my peripherals myself as I half scrutinized the neatly sketched parchment paper. The terrain was beginning to look less naturally occurring and more… carved, though with some horrific craftsmanship that only the oblivious would not be able to tell the difference. The path downward was starting to take on features more like those of a rudimentary stairway than that of a steep slope, and Night Wind’s ears never once stilled themselves, flicking in every direction constantly. He moved closer to me and expressed his concern for predators lurking in the shadows as I rolled up the map and stored it in my robes. I was not a fool. I knew what these signs meant all too well.
I whispered as much to the wizard, “We’re being watched”
Starswirl hummed grimly, “You sense it too? And that musky scent in the air… this part of the mountain is inhabited, likely by the same creatures that caused the mine to be abandoned” He postulated.
“There is no mistaking that awful stench” I agreed, my nose wrinkling, “It’s Grimworts… and there’s bound to be hundreds, if not several hundreds of them close by”
Starswirl hummed again, this time sounding entertained, “It’s beneficial that you have negotiated with their kind for safe passage before then, hmm?” He reasoned.
I sent him an unamused stare, “That was with the Glowworm Pack, and I had to cut down over a quarter of their number with my blade set ablaze before they yielded to me. Intuition tells me that attempting that tactic here would be tantamount to suicide” I shuddered, with no small amount of seriousness.
By this point, the sloped pathw- stairs… had bottomed out and flattened into an open expanse that the dim light of the wizard’s staff could not penetrate far enough to see what was on the other side. “Let me risk a little more light” He murmured to himself and his staff increased in luminescence, revealing that the open expanse wasn’t as open as I presumed. Stone columns dotted the way ahead of us in intermittent intervals, in their structure were bored in hollows that were wide enough to fit a small person inside of. The pattering of clawed hands and feet escaped us as whatever was responsible for them melted into the shadows. This place reminded me of a twisted parody of the halls of Khazad-dûm, and its inhabitants were plausibly just as ornery.
Hushed chatter came from the margins all around us, none of it giving off a particularly friendly feeling. I cast that night vision spell that would utilize Starswirl’s light on my eyes and resisted a shiver at what I saw. There were thousands of beady black eyes, staring at us in the dark with a hungry vibe to them, despite their lack of pupils. We hadn’t just stumbled into a nest of Grimworts… we had walked right into a hive of them. They were everywhere, crawling up and down jagged stone foundations that acted as pillars, fighting amongst themselves for the best allotment of cavefish they had caught, or bickering over who got to play with bones that worryingly resembled those one would find in humans. Even with all this hidden activity, they were so quiet that even my keenly receptive ears struggled to pick up on the muted noises of their chattering. They were superiorly armed compared to the Grimworts of the Glowworm Pack, sporting rusty iron blades and crude bows and arrows. And perhaps most importantly, they were much, much more numerous.
“Starswirl…” I did my damnedest to keep the disquieted unease out of my voice, “…how much further is it to this exit you mentioned earlier?” My tone was wooden and deadpan, as a furtive implication that all was not well with our situation.
He conveyed himself normally, “My path finding spell signifies to me that it should be on the opposite side of this capacious chamber” He looked at me strangely, “Is there something I should know about?” He whispered in question, catching on quick to the threatened meaning behind my stiff posture.
“Take the highest number of Grimworts you thought we’d find down here… and quintuple it” I sibilated bitingly, hating the idea of getting ourselves surrounded simply because the wizard carelessly insisted on a faster way out. Night Wind made no effort to hide his discomfort, and I could feel the anxious fidgeting of his head in the reins I was holding.
Starswirl’s face paled, “That is… indeed an obstacle. Should we utilize that invisibility spell of yours again and double back?” He suggested to me, his head swiveling to watch for any sudden dangers. At a minimum he could concede that this was a bad call, but we couldn’t back out now.
I rumbled in the negative, “We’re too far in already, they’ve cut off our escape back the route we entered. Besides… Night Wind is too nervous to move with absolute stillness… we must find another way”
“I’m open to alternative suggestions, my coolly composed companion” He retorted, clenching his staff in his hands and at the hilt of the sword sheathed at his side.
“We’re not going to fight our way out of this one, Starswirl…” A metaphorical light bulb switched on above my head, “but we might be able to smash and dash our way out. Dim the light of your staff, if you would” I adjured him.
“Are you mad!?” He hissed, “We want them to keep their distance! Not invite them closer!” He argued, not yet seeing the main gist of my plan.
“They’re armed with arrows, Starswirl” I contradicted him, “It doesn’t matter what distance they keep, they could put holes in us all the same. Grimworts hate light… right? So what would happen if you were to overwhelm them with an explosion of it?” I hypothetically posed the question to him.
“They would be blinded, and unable to react to much of anything for a time” Starswirl answered, “But they would kill us the moment they saw us plotting against them!” Despite his objections, he had bedimmed his staff.
“You let me handle that part” I grinned confidently at him, “How long would it take for you to charge up the flashiest spell you’ve got?”
Starswirl glanced at the darkened crystal of his staff, “No more than a minute’s worth of time, I promise you. But my illumination spell will cease functioning for the entirety of that minute” He forewarned. The Grimworts were edging closer with each second, and they looked ravenous for some meat. Once they were well within my usual aural range, I could clearly make out their voices.
“Intruders! Kill them! Kill them all!”
“Strip the flesh, salt the wound!”
“Oh they look so tasty! We hasn’t had man flesh in forever!”
“Man flesh? What about horse flesh!? There is so much meat to be had on that one!” Snickered another Grimwort, licking his lips and brandishing his dagger in preparation for some knife work.
My face contorted in aversion, “Mount up then, and be ready to ride hard for this exit of yours” I didn’t wait for him to respond as I leaned towards Night Wind, “Hey pal, we’re almost there. Close your eyes and trust my friend Starswirl here to guide you, okay?” The frightened equine did as he was bidden, causing me to smile bittersweetly at how much faith he had in us.
With Starswirl in the saddle and the crystal of his staff turning off completely, I walked ahead of the two and prayed that the Grimwort who told me a weakness of their kind wasn’t lying. I opened my mouth and began to sing a profound melody that popped into my mind.
“Home is behind… the world ahead. And there are many paths to tread~”
My crooning voice captured the attention of the Grimworts with almost immediate effect, and they halted in place, glancing at each other in confusion that gradually gave way to ensorcelled enthrallment.
“Through shadow… to the edge of night. Until the Stars are all alight~”
The lyrics to the song echoed faintly in the underground chamber, the words bouncing around and back to me with a ghostly quality that made it even more eerie than I remembered. Some of the less than hypnotized Grimworts tried to snap their kin out of their trance and were met with the agitated gnashing of jaws for disturbing them. They were able to extract some of their buddies from their hypnosis though, and pointed their clawed appendages accusingly at me.
“Mist and shadow… Cloud and shade. All shall fade…~” I realized that my stalling tactic was beginning to falter as more of the musically resistant Grimworts informed their brothers to the trick that was about to be played on them. I backed up so I was close to my companions.
“All shall fade… all… shall…~” Over the alarming sounds of bow strings being pulled back and ready to let fly, I heard the crackling energy building up on Starswirl’s staff notify me that his spell was ready to unleash and closed my eyes, “…fade~”
A blazing light that my flash bang canisters wouldn’t have been able to hold a candela to detonated in the chambers, searing whiteness into my retinas for a duration of five seconds. The Grimworts screeched as their eyesight was ripped from them, some of them recoiling and loosing their arrows in the wrong direction, accidentally committing fratricide. Starswirl’s hand grabbed me by the nape of my neck, and with the momentum of Night Wind’s sudden sprint forward, hoisted me up onto the saddle behind him. His staff was still pulsating with waves of light, but one ray was brighter and any other as we blitzed into the encirclement of dumbfounded Grimworts, scattering them and sending all in the cavern into a panicked frenzy. The beam of light changed orientation as we zigged and zagged around the stone columns, broadcasting the heading we needed to go to leave the mountain. We hightailed it as fast as Night Wind could go, bowling over several Grimworts who weren’t close enough to be fazed by the flash and attempted to stop us.
The din in the cavern grew cacophonous as the enraged Grimworts tried to chase their food down. Archers stationed on rolling ledges fired potshots at us that missed by country miles, since Applejack wasn’t here to use that expression. I assembled Dichotomy in my hands and helped to thin their numbers as we charged ever onward. The edge of the Mage-blade reaped the Grimworts like they were a field of wheat. Moldy, nasty smelling wheat that was in dire need of a shower and some tic-tacs. They disregarded their own health and attacked from above too, dropping down from the columns as they tried to knock us off our ride and render us easy pickings for the ensuing horde. A prominent example of a rolling ledge neared us and the archers posted there took aim, intending to pincushion us as we passed alongside.
Counteracting this outcome, I shouted to Starswirl, “Take him left!”
Starswirl acquiesced and yanked the reins to direct Night Wind leftwards and up the ramp of the ledge, galloping chest first into many archers and throwing them off of it. One poor sap was directly trampled under my steed’s hoof, his skull squishing with a wet crunch as Night Wind stamped his life out with extreme prejudice. The end of the ledge terminated into a steep drop that would have been the death of us, so Night Wind took the initiative and leaped across the gap separating it from another ledge, where we plowed into yet more Grimworts with a clopping of hooves. Starswirl’s irregular noises of nausea indicated to me that he wasn’t big on heights, and even less thrilled by vaulting over them. This was incongruous, as Starswirl was born in a mountain town. Though he did spend much of his life groundside, so maybe it was an acquired distaste.
“Bebother and confusticate me! How are we not dead yet!?” The wizard exclaimed wildly, not believing how auspicious our flight through the enemy infested cavern was so far.
“Your story won’t end here, Starswirl, and neither will mine for that matter!” I declared in answer, channeling flame into my weapon and slashing an unfortunate Grimwort across the face, spontaneously setting his corpse on fire as an example to his bloodthirsty kin.
“How is it that you’re always so confident about our odds of survival!?” He blurted almost accusatorially.
“Just a hunch” I said to him, ‘And nothing to do with that portrait of older you that I saw, or what the Princess told me about the unresolved state of your fate’
“That’s going to be your go-to excuse whenever I inquire, isn’t it?” He groaned in exasperation.
“You’ve figured it out, have you?” I reiterated and grinned momentarily in response, before refocusing on the delicate matter at hand, “Are we getting closer to the exit? I doubt our luck here will hold up forever!”
“Over there!” He hollered, as he directed my attention in front of us, where our means of a safe getaway was located.
Ahead of us was a narrow, precariously constructed wooden roped bridge suspended over a seemingly bottomless black chasm. It was approximately fifty feet in length and looked rather rickety, but it was either risk falling to our doom or getting torn apart by indignant Grimworts. To make the idea of crossing this bridge even less palatable, there were no ropes to act as railing, meaning that excessive swaying of the bridge could go over rather badly for us. The Grimworts there anticipated our intentions and raised their weapons to cut at the ropes anchoring it on the first side. I split up Dichotomy and shot-gunned them with the shards, tearing them limb from limb and stopping them from concluding this adventure of ours prematurely. I recombined my blade and spread my wings to fly beyond our advance, landing on the other side to expediently deal with the Grimworts there with whirling slashes and sword strokes that put them on the floor.
As Night Wind and Starswirl traveled the gap, I pulled out my Tantō with my free hand and insta-prepped a spell that would turn the flammable bridge conflagrant, ensuring that any who attempted to chase us down would regret it. Once they were across, I let loose with it, igniting that side of the bridge and letting it spread to the other side, fraying at the ropes suspending it. A trio of Grimworts midway across saw this and halted in their tracks, only for the ignorant members behind them to collide with them and knock them off the edge, where they screamed all the way to their demise. The fast burning fire where the spell made first contact did its job and reduced the anchoring ropes to zero integrity, resulting in them snapping and sending a couple dozen Grimworts down to join the hapless trio.
‘You shall not pass!’ I shamelessly referenced in my head. Satisfied with foiling the Grimwort’s lunch plans; I turned tail, spread my wings, and flew off in pursuit of the wizard and my steed.
The exit itself was nothing special, just a massive crevice in the mountains that opened out into a stunning sight of the Dreamy Vale. The landscape was like something out of Skyrim, with the mountainous plateau offering an unparalleled view of a grassy green valley overflowing with greenery and life. Thickets of Pine trees were sprinkled against the rims of the mountains and thinned out as they reached the bottom. In the valley below us were fields of flowers of lovely blue and violet hues that probably smelled fragrant. The brumous air was crisp and fresh, a welcome change from the staggering stench of the Grimwort hive. There was evidence outside that the Grimworts used the semi plateau we were on as a hunting camp, with wooden racks mounted over stone campfire to roast game for consumption. It was daylight, so the rays of the sun assured me that no more Grimworts would be bothering us for the remainder of our trip.
I walked up to the wizard and Night Wind, who were standing on a rocky shelf that jutted outwards and pointed at the Vale. Together we stared at the location where our search for the foretold heroines could begin in earnest. While Starswirl was preoccupied with appreciating the valley, I kept an eye trained on the skies, in case Maelstrom and her men were desperate enough to brave the turbulent winds of the mountain range in order to hunt us down. The airways in the immediate vicinity were clear, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be keeping watch for any scouts.
“So this is the Dreamy Vale of old…” He observed, wordlessly putting the events of the cavern behind him, “It’s beautiful, to be sure, but I can see why our ancestors weren’t hesitant to find prosperity elsewhere” A distant column of smoke to the northwest from what had to be the nearest village caught his eye and he indicated towards it, “We should start our search there, in that town” He lent me his hand and offered to pull me up, which I accepted.
Night Wind may have lacked cloven hooves for traction, but he did a decent job of scaling the mountain in reverse until we found a dirt road that looked traveled. We cantered along that path for ten minutes before that column of smoke started to look less like the kind coming from chimneys and more like the kind coming from smoldering ruins. Starswirl saw this and urged Night Wind into a gallop. As we drew closer, our worst fears were realized as it was confirmed that the village was burned. Blackened husks of wooden support columns protruded from the ground like ebony fingers. Stone structures were baked to the point where their bricks cracked and crumbled, shattering under their own weight. The air was thick with the fetor of char and ashes, and Starswirl held a robed sleeve to his nose as a makeshift mask. I was more proactive and channeled a filtering spell on my nostrils so the smoke wouldn’t become overpowering.
I dismounted and Starswirl joined me in ferreting around for signs of survivors or what could have caused this destruction. A cynical part of my mind assumed that it must have been vengeful Valkyrians taking out their defeat at Mirrimare on this town, but my rational side silenced it by pointing out how razing entire villages and their farming fields to the ground was not their style. We scanned amongst the burnt out wreckage at the fringes of the village for bodies, but they were mysteriously empty. I attempted to use True Sight to paint indicators on living beings in the vicinity, but only one blip popped up on the proverbial radar.
It was a tiny signature that was shivering at the bottom of a nearby well, hanging onto the rope for dear life.
“Starswirl!” I barked to get his notice, “There’s one at the bottom of that well” I called attention to the aforementioned water well.
We rushed over and started pulling at the rope, hauling up its precious cargo. The crank mechanism was broken, but the crossbeam holding up the rope was intact. Whoever was at the bottom panicked and the line began to tremor frantically. “It’s all right! We’re friends! You’re safe now!” I tried to reassure the person whose village had been turned to a crisp. The struggling on the line lessened, but didn’t cease completely. When the rope terminated, a young girl of seven or eight was revealed to us. The first thing she did the moment she saw us was jump into my arms, weeping hysterically.
Even though I wasn’t the greatest with kids, I folded my arms around the coarse fabric of her damp clothes and kneeled so that we would be level with the earth, “Hey, hey. Shh… shh… It’s okay. You’re fine now. We won’t let anyone hurt you” I said to her in the most comforting voice I could muster. Her flesh was like a prune from being immersed in the water for an extended period of time, but she was otherwise healthy and alive.
After she had cried her eyes out (an affair lasting ten agonizing minutes), she had recovered the strength to find her voice.
“Where is my mum? My da?” She asked in a weak, innocent voice.
“I don’t know, young one” I wasn’t going to lie to her, even if a lie would be gentler to take than the truth, “Can you tell us your name?”
She sniffled and pulled out of our embrace, “Sweet Pea… but everyone in the village liked to call me Hemlock, cause I liked playing in the woods where the Hemlock groves were”
“Okay, Sweet Pea. And can you tell us what happened here?” I felt Starswirl’s staff smack me in the back for grilling a child for information, but wouldn’t be dissuaded from getting to the bottom of this until the reason for why the village was burned was apparent to us.
“It happened so fast… I was playing with my friends Hazelblossom and Nettlekiss when I heard an adult screaming” She wiped at her green eyes, which were saturated with moisture from crying, “Men with grey cloaks rode into town, demanding that everybody crowd together in the square by the statue of the brave women who did our village a great deed that made the elders happy” Her lips trembled as she remembered something scarring, “T-they… they started hurting anyone who didn’t listen to them!”
‘Grey cloaks? The Acolytes were responsible for this?’ Why would they attack a village though? What did they expect to gain?
I could tell that this was a bit much for her to handle, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it anymore, Sweet Pea. I can’t even begin to imagine how much horror you experienced, let alone witnessed” I sympathized.
“No… You need to know what happened…” She protested between sniffling breaths, “…so you can tell the heroines who did this! Some of the bad men had magic, and they used their magic on those who stood up to them until they were on their knees… and then hurt others just because they had disobeyed!” She was angry, “I remember that I used to listen to mama’s wonderful stories about those who could cast spectacular magic… but now I know that it’s evil! I hate magic!” She clapped her hands against her head and shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head back and forth. I couldn’t fault her for the juvenile mistake of associating the means of hurting her friends and neighbors with evilness.
Though the wizard did correct her, “Sweet Pea” Starswirl spoke to her this time, “Magic itself isn’t evil… it’s a faceless force of change that doesn’t have the capacity to be evil. But the people who are gifted with it can be evil. Tell us child… how did you come to be at the bottom of that well?” I wanted to criticize Starswirl for hypocrisy, but knew that it would have been petty of me.
“Okay…” She tried to be strong as she related to us her story, “While the bad men were herding us into the square like pigs into a pen, my mother pushed me through an opening in the bad men’s ranks and told me to find a place to hide where they could never find me… so I picked the well by my house. I’m small… so it wasn’t that cramped for me… but it was so dark… I was scared! I was a coward! I should have gone back to help my mum and dad!” She exclaimed, beating herself up for events that were out of her control.
She looked positively miserable, so I wrapped my arms around her a second time and provided her with the warmth of a hug, while secretly drying her clothes with my magic, “Sweet Pea. You are not a coward” I contradicted her, “You had the strength to run and hide from the bad men, and the brains to pick an inconspicuous spot to do it (‘Not to mention one that was mostly fireproof’). You’re being strong now, too… most adults in your situation would have been reduced to blubbering wrecks… but you’re holding firm” I looked her in the eyes, “Never let go of that strength, Sweet Pea”
She rubbed an arm against her runny nose, “You really think so, Mister?” She asked me in a vulnerable voice.
I smiled at her, “I know so, Sweet Pea. We’re going to take you someplace safe, where no one can ever hurt you like this again. But umm…” I purposely demurred and scratched bashfully at the nub of my nose, “My friend and I are new to this region, so we’re a little lost on where the closest town is. Can you tell us if you know the way there?”
She nodded, “Uh huh… my dad used to take me on boring cart rides to trade the carrots that we grew for oats and barley in the next town using the northwest road. But can you find my parents for me? I’m too scared to look for them myself. The bad men might come back” She clutched at me a tad harder, emphasizing how much these men had frightened her.
“If they do Sweet Pea. I’ll give them a stern talking to” I asserted in a neutral tone, carefully sidestepping her first request. Talking being a euphemism for lopping heads off and feeding the decapitated bodies to the wolves for them to gnaw on, “My friend Starswirl here is going to introduce you to another friend of mine named Night Wind. He loves carrots, so I know he’ll love you too… if only by mental association” I heard Starswirl grumble under his breath about me passing the emotionally scarred kid off to him, but he did not protest to obliging me beyond that.
Her forehead creased at my confusing wording, “Okay Mister… but can I know your name?” She indulged her curiosity for the one who was going to avenge her obliterated village.
“You can call me Zenith, dear child” I formally introduced myself.
She bumped her forehead into mine, “Thank you for being kind to me, Zenith” She expressed her gratitude, giving me a peck on the cheek that must have been a common tradition for the Agrarians in these parts. She then offered herself to Starswirl with an open armed gesture, and he carried her on top of his shoulders, where she played with the bells of his hat.
Once they were occupied with Night Wind, I decided to investigate the town square where Sweet Pea’s family, friends, and neighbors were held when this all went down. I mentally steeled myself for the worst as I walked among the ruins, stepping over rubble from collapsed buildings as I ambled towards the square. From multiple wooden signs and placard like carvings that were only somewhat scorched, I learned that the name of this village was Duskdale (Or Duskdale Haven. I wasn’t quite sure on that). I arrived at the square to witness the aftermath of a horrific scene. Bodies… so many blackened, shriveled bodies. They were orderly dispersed about the square around a statue of two women that was so defaced that they could be mistaken for female ogres. They consisted of men, women, and… even children. The fire wasn’t what killed them though… they were dead long before the flames that consumed this village got to them. Each of their throats was slit and their blood used to paint a mystifying pattern that I had to perch myself on top of a still standing stone wall of a building that must have been the village’s town hall. Despite the fires that had raged in this village, the pattern of the spilled blood was unaffected as if it had dried only hours ago.
Looking upon the carnage, I felt that cold spark of fury within me kindle and increase in intensity until my whole body was burning with barely suppressed anger. My hair burst into a magical fire that did no damage, but made me grossly incandescent. I knew that the Acolytes of Chaos were bad men, but to stoop so low that they would slaughter innocents like cattle? There were no words to adequately describe the wrongness affiliated with this iniquity. This profane breach of morality that registered them on the ‘annihilate with overwhelming might’ mental hit list. There was no justice in the world that could make this right… but vengeance would do just fine.
“They’ll pay for this…” I whispered in a low, emotionless voice as the magical flames engulfing my body slowly diminished and my body returned to normality, “Each and every last monstrous one of them”
“Zenith!” Starswirl called to me, emerging from the demolished woodwork to find me, “We must take Sweet Pea to the neighboring town of Oxfort. Why are you lingering her-…” His voice trailed off and his eyes widened at the grisly scene before him.
I walked past him on the way to my steed, coldly commenting to the wizard in passing, “Do you still have doubts about dealing out death and judgment to the ones who did this?”
⁂
The ride to Oxfort took most of the day. Not due to the distance between the two towns, no, but because Night Wind was pooped from exerting himself so much in the caverns with two grown men on his back (To his credit, we weren’t liable to have gotten out of that mess if he wasn’t the athletic machine that he was). The idea of carrying even a lightweight child on his back was enough that he stubbornly refused to go anywhere unless one of us walked instead of rode. Being the young man and not the scarred village girl or the aging wizard, the logical choice was me, which I accepted without much complaint. Even with my brisk walking pace, we only made it to the town of Oxfort as the Sun was beginning to set, with the Moon slated to take its place.
Our arrival was received with more attention than I would have guessed, as armed guards stopped us by the gate and demanded what our intentions were. Sweet Pea recognized one of the guards and called him by name, granting us swift entry without so much as a password (Changelings weren’t an issue, evidently). We brought the news about what happened to Duskdale to the town’s elected officials and they helpfully offered to take Sweet Pea under their care (the young girl asking them if they could help find her parents as she was taken away by the authorities to begin her new life of being an orphan. Good God, that is depressing). The townsfolk were weary of Starswirl on account of him not being Agrarian, but would tolerate him since he saved one of their own. They talked to me without notable hesitance though, and helpfully pointed us to the nearest tavern and lodge where we could find a warm bed and a fortifying drink: The Ox’s Brew.
The local tavern was your average medieval style bar, with mahogany tables, a bar counter with a built in distillery, and kegs of alcohol that were tapped to fill up pitchers that the tavern owner’s homely daughters carried to the customers to pour into their flagons with. The place was packed to medium density, and its inhabitants were cut from many cloths. There were farmers just getting a drink to steady the nerves, merchants who had traveled a ways and wanted to sleep in a real bed for a change, and even off duty guards still clad in their armor. A wooden, chandelier with spokes provided the room illumination through candlelight, and there was an iron insignia of an Ox plowing a field above the roaring fireplace. Night Wind was hitched outside in a local stable, its attendants’ services provided free of charge by the authorities. Starswirl must have been accustomed to locales like this, since he did not shy away from approaching the barkeep with a cool expression and letting it be known that he was whetting his whistle.
“I’ll have two of your best brew, please” He ordered for the both of us, slapping down the leftover Bob that I had given him. The tavern owner slash barkeep was either oblivious to his telling outfit and Focal Gem, or overlooked it in favor of making a profit. He loaded up two flagons with the requested fluids and set them on the counter, where the wizard and I took our seats.
“What are you doing, Starswirl?” I inquired; glancing confusedly at the alcohol like the time Daring and I had our first Harmonious Sync Event at the Gemmed Tankard in the Krystal Kingdom.
“This is me repaying my debt to you, Zenith. To your health and to the inevitable success of our mutual endeavor!” He announced, toasting me with the flagon, “Go on… drink up” He encouraged me, ignorant to how immune I was to peer pressure.
I humored him, “Repaying a life and loan debt by buying me a drink with my own money? Starswirl you absolute cheapskate” I teased him in a serious voice, lessening his jovial spirit, “However… since the creditor has the power of forgiving debts, I’ll be magnanimous to you this time around” I replied with a grin.
“I am in awe of your graciousness” He monotoned, before he leaned towards me and spoke in a vaguely conspiratorial voice, “Tonight, my good lad. I am going to teach you a thing or two about the art of eavesdropping”
I stared at him blankly for a full three seconds, “I’m pretty sure I’m well versed in this skill already” I told him in a deadpan tone, taking a sip of my honey mead and finding the taste to be alright, but nothing to write home about.
His bushy eyebrows shot up in slight surprise, “Oh… well in that case we shall be honing your skill with it then!” He lamely tried to save face.
“If you say so” I idly droned, my ears already in the process of sifting through the various conversations going on throughout the tavern. It might prove informative, it might not, but it couldn’t hurt to try though.
“So I finally got Rose Berry to take a roll in the hay with me!”
‘No’
“Congratulations brother! So when are you going to marry her?”
‘No… but his lack of a response is kinda hilarious’
“Hey, can you take a look at this corn on my foot? I think it’s turning a shade of green”
‘No… also gross’
“Any of you lot been keeping up with the latest deeds of the lionized heroines Celeste and Selene?”
‘No… wait, what?’ I focused on that conversation in particular, the similar and yet unfamiliar names of the heroines piquing my interest.
The off duty guard resumed his monologue at indoor voice volume, “Last I heard, the two sisters had brokered a peace between the rival hamlets of Redmeadow and Hedgecrest, putting an end to decades worth of enmity. Those are the kind of people we need to restore the Dreamy Vale back to its time of greatness, you’ll see” He pounded back his beer, disclosing no more info on the subject.
“Zenith? Are you even paying attention to me?” Starswirl’s agitated voice broke me out of my pseudo trance, “I was wondering if you were listening to my advice on how to spot the most likely unknowing informants… and if you were going to finish your drink” He added with cheek.
‘Why are so many of my companions such flagrant alcoholics? Do I look like I would make a great drinking buddy?’ I mused in minor aggravation.
I slid it over to him, “Knock yourself out. I happen to know where we need to go in order to follow in the footsteps of these maidens you seek” I said in a low voice, so that the bartender couldn’t hear us. Their type’s loyalty when it came to keeping secrets could be bought, so they were not trustworthy. Paranoid of me, yes, but I never saw anything wrong with being tightlipped.
“You’ve overheard it already? Clearly there is little that I can teach you in the ways of craftiness” He complimented me, polishing off his flagon of mead and starting to work on emptying my container, “So where can we find the heroines?” He followed up, droplets of mead beading in the strands of his beard.
I held up two fingers and counted down, “We have two options… Redmeadow, or Hedgecrest. I’m assuming that they’re neighboring hamlets… so we can always just talk to the other, should one hamlet prove unforthcoming”
“We’ll set out for Redmeadow in the morning” Starswirl made his decision after chugging the last of my drink, “Get us a room. I’ll join you shortly… as soon as I get a refill!” He slapped down another handful of coins on the counter and the barkeep happily acquiesced, keeping the golden brew a’flowin.
I sighed and put my face in my palms. It was going to be a long search for these maidens… I didn’t need any Sisters of Fate to foresee that.
⁂
I was right about my presumption… albeit not to the degree that I was pessimistically thinking. We followed the hearsay east to the twin hamlets of Redmeadow and Hedgecrest and questioned the residents of both hamlets who had seen the heroines with their own eyes. Celeste and Selene were unquestionably the future Princesses of the Sun and Moon, and their disparate yet familiar physical descriptors in this time period did not convince me otherwise. Celeste was an Agrarian woman with flowing, pink hair, and was reputed to exude a radiance that felt like sunshine itself. She was wise for her age and possessed a cunning that allowed her to… influence (I won’t label it as manipulate) people who were in disagreement to see the greater good, and stimulated harmonious relations wherever she went, even between people who had blood feuds that went back decades. Her glaucous haired sister, Selene, was also an Agrarian and the feistier of the two siblings. She dealt with their more dangerous problems typically by hacking into them with her sword whenever her sister’s skillful diplomacy failed. Together they were the one two punch that effected change throughout the entirety of the Dreamy Vale. Lately, they had been contesting the aims of the Acolytes of Chaos, who had been using the wealth they had acquired from the deceased Dragon’s hoard to fund insurrectionist movements that threatened to tear apart the majority of Celeste’s and Selene’s work.
My own work in disabling their money accumulating operation in the caves near Fogmount seemed to have had a debilitating effect on their operation in the Dreamy Vale, and their movement was beginning to lose most of its steam as the insurrections flopped without further funding and monetary support from the Acolytes. Once I heard of that, I promptly stopped regretting permitting the Glowworm Pack to increase their stockpiles of bling. Being recognized as a Fire Lord had its hidden perks, apparently. Thwarting their plans to cause chaos through rebellion, I had incited them to begin directly attacking undefended towns and settlements, where they performed similar bloodletting rituals like the kind we had seen in Duskdale. Our presence here was also overt after the first week of poking about in the affairs of the heroines, and we began reencountering the Acolytes through unwitting proxies that were hired to capture us or kill us. Fortunately, Starswirl and I proved to be more than competent in dispatching the pawns of the Acolytes (and lifting their coin purses while we were at it), and I could hear their proverbial teeth grinding in frustration as the incidents multiplied in frequency. We stayed mobile as we toured much of the Dreamy Vale, seeing many marvelous sights (trees whose leaves shifted color during the course of the day, fields of dandelions whose seed heads were bioluminescent that lit up the night sky like miniature stars after a gust of wind, rivers with opaline rocks sparkling on the river bottom, etcetera) that made all the effort of tracking the maidens worthwhile.
No one we asked knew a thing about the specific origins of the heroines, though many surmised that they were once average Agrarian commoners themselves, until they decided to go out into the world and be the change they wanted to see. They were probably from an ancient village, since they still spoke with an olden dialect that only the most aged of the settlements in the Dreamy Vale still communicated with. This cleared up the most nagging question in my mind concerning how eloquent people in this time were, instead of imitating Luna’s quaint speech habits that she often regressed into when she was angered or puzzled.
Some of the exploits of the two sisters were run of the mill, such as solving the mystery to why one town’s crops were dying more than usual (the explanation being pests that were breeding unchecked due to the town’s policy on limiting frogs that were the pests’ prime predator), to beast slaying of various mythological creatures like rampant manticores, cockatrices, its bigger cousin the basilisk, and chimeras. Heck, the Princesses sounded like regular, idealistic adventurers with hearts of gold the more I learned about their escapades. Mostly the two sisters in arms were about keeping the peace and inspiring love and unity between the Agrarians living in the Vale. Profoundly thinking, the Dreamy Vale was like the precursor to the kind of values and duties that the Princesses would one day uphold in Arcania.
Starswirl and I continued to strengthen our bonds of friendship as we traveled from destination to destination in the Dreamy Vale. I lessened some of the restrictions I had about telling of my life and even openly compared him to another pointy hat wearing wizard to his face, which he took as something of a challenge. I could judge with relative accuracy that Starswirl’s personality was a mixture of Twilight’s bookishness and Pinkie’s enthusiasm. He was very much an intellectual man, and delighted in how he could discuss complex topics with me that his mentally rigid pupils back in Stellaria never could grasp well enough for his liking. He also had a positive attitude that became incrementally more noticeable as we drew closer to finding the maidens and imparting to them their role in the Prophecy of Unification. He would joke, laugh, and smile even when one of our leads would turn out to be a dead end that mandated that we backtrack or wait for more info on the whereabouts of the maidens to pop up.
Those Skyborn I swore I would remain vigilant for hadn’t dropped out of the picture, and I spotted their scouts scanning the roadways on several occasions, still scouring the land for Starswirl and myself. They weren’t here to repeat what they did in Mirrimare, since there was no news about Skyborn raiding villages for food. Whenever a scout would manifest in the sky while we were on the road, Starswirl and I would engage our individual spells of concealment and wait until the scout had disappeared (The side effects of Starswirl’s was that it left him with an awesome shadowy haze trailing him when he moved). Their prolonged presence in the Dreamy Vale bothered me though, and they would not stop looking for us. They were worse than the Acolytes in this fashion, and had caused us many delays that allowed the heroines to slip from our fingers in the span of mere hours at times.
After two weeks, we had run up the latest of our leads and were taking temporary residence at the Squawking Bee Inn and Tavern, which was run by a woman who was easy on the eyes named Dew Drop. I had just finished relating one of Pinkie Pie’s oatmeal anecdotes to get in friendly with a table of chaps that had more juicy information on Celeste and Selene that garnered lots of laughs (Even though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was so funny about it. Though when I think on it, the anecdote makes an alarming amount of sense that was atypical of the baker). We caught a lucky break, and one of the men had overheard that the heroines would be returning in our direction via the Rugdale road, which bypassed a forest of ironbark trees colloquially known as the Bloodgrove; on account of its crimson leaves never changing their color, and how people had a tendency of disappearing permanently whenever they ventured inside to save on time by cutting to the other side.
I thanked the men for sharing what they knew and rewarded them by paying for their next round of drinks. One of the great things about this particular tavern, other than its convenient location as a crossroads in the middle of five different major Agrarian towns, was that it offered complementary hot water baths to anyone renting a room, as well as a ridged washboard with soapy solution to lather and rinse my robes with. As one might imagine, wearing the same robes for an extended period of time without having many opportunities to wash it meant that I wasn’t exactly aromatic.
Starswirl saw me about to climb the stairs for our separate rooms (sharing the same bed with an older man was not something I was okay with, even if we were friends) and stopped me by the stairwell.
“Where are you off to, Zenith? What about the hearsay we’ve collected? We need to discuss what you’ve heard and its ramifications on our quest straightaway!” He protested.
I sighed and pinched at the bridge of my nose in exasperation, “Listen Starswirl. I’ve been stuck in this outfit without bathing for far longer than I’m comfortable with. I’ve fought in it, I’ve traveled in it, and I’ve slept in it. So if you don’t mind… I’m going to wash out the caked on blood, grease, and grime off myself so I can feel clean again!”
Starswirl paused, realizing my point, “Very well. Take your bath. But come to me as soon as you’re finished. We need to talk about this!”
‘Geez, does he remind me of Twilight sometimes… with a bit of Pinkie Pie’s fervor sprinkled in for good measure’ I thought to myself as I climbed the stairs up to the hallway.
I opened the door to my room with the key loaned to me by Miss Dew Drop and pushed it open. Inside was your average Inn room, with a single bed, a rounded tub to bathe in, and a wooden footlocker at the base of the bed. Bathrooms in Precania were as primitive as I feared, being a commode with a wooden bucket to literally take the crap. You would take the bucket of waste and dispose of it by utilizing the stream of water outside. I made a mental note not to stop for water anywhere downstream of an Inn slash lodge. I disrobed (taking care to disarm myself as well) and went to work washing my robes on the washboard, using my magic to dry the fabrics when I was done. With that task finished, I settled back into the tub to cleanse myself and unwind, letting the stress melt away as ten minutes became an hour. Something in my gut was off though, and as hard as I tried to relax, I simply couldn’t manage it. It wasn’t an alien feeling though, being another of those premonitions that I would get right before the shit hit the fan.
Not about to disappoint me, the door to my room was summarily busted open and a trio of grey cloaked figures barged into my room, violent intent radiating in their eyes. Springing to my feet and with water cascading off my bare body in rivulets, I evaded a knife to my stomach and slapped the offending tool away with a knuckled fist. I elbowed the shocked assailant in the face before grappling his outstretched arm with that same motion and pushing on his back to introduce his face to my knee, bloodying his nose. I jumped out of the way as another assailant brandished a one handed sword in wide sweeping arcs that forced me to back up in the limited space of the room. I backpedaled until my back was against the wall.
With no more space to maneuver, I scooped under and kicked a replacement bucket (only seeing the situational irony of this later) for the commode into the air with my foot and grabbed it so I could block what would have been a fatal slash to my vital organs. With the blade of the sword wedged into the sturdy wood, I forcefully twisted the bucket in my hands to deprive the man of his sword before smacking him across the face with it and sending him careening into the third assailant, who was wielding a crossbow that fired just before they collided. I craned my neck to the side and avoid being shot in the face as the bolt buried itself into the wall and picked up the man’s sword before running the previous owner through with it. With one man down, the other two tried to rush me with their daggers and attacked me above and below the belt line.
Again, the space issue resulted in several near hits that left shallow cuts on my body. Using the man assaulting my junk’s noggin as a springboard, I launched into the air with a flip to the other side of the room and unsheathed two throwing knives from my belt. There was no time to guide them with magic so I naturally hurled them at my would be murderers. Frequent practice with these knives over the last two weeks meant that my unassisted aim went from terrible to mediocre to acceptable, as evidenced by one of the men clutching at his skewered heart and slowly bleeding out on the floor. Desperate to kill me, the final assailant launched a flurry of swipes and stabs at me that were easy to parry with my Tantō. I cheated and used a minor force spell to slam him into the wall and daze him before I dragged him by the nape of his neck to my bathtub and submerged his head into the soiled water.
As to be expected from a man who had his air passages immersed in water, he thrashed and pushed against the rim of the tub to gain some oxygen. But my vice like grip was unyielding, and his struggling gradually weakened as his own grip on consciousness began to fade. Before I could totally drown him though, I pulled him out at the last second and smashed his head against the rim, knocking him out… but more importantly, keeping him alive for later ‘questioning’. With the danger having passed, I collected my weapons, sealed my cuts with magic, and hissed at how disproportionately painful it was.
“Zenith!” Starswirl’s voice called out as he made his ingress into the room, “We’ve been targeted by assassins! Are you in need of-… Sweet Stars above!” He recoiled at my nakedness, “You’re not dressed!” He stated the obvious.
“Indeed” I agreed, rifling through their possessions and grinning once I found yet another bag filled with Precanian silver coins, along with a strange metal emblem that must have been the badge of identification for a higher up. Thorough examination of the corpses revealed a familiar face of the leader that Starswirl allowed to go free in the Towerwoods, “Though that didn’t stop these arseholes from attempting to install some structurally superfluous new breathing holes in me. One of them had the gall to go for low blows in some sensitive regions…” I shrugged with a flippant attitude as I stood up, “But he simply didn’t have the heart to do it” I shamelessly one liner-ed.
My morbid sense of humor had no visible impact on the wizard, who continued to stare appalled at my nakedness, making me imperceptibly self conscious.
“Could you not look at me, like that? I might get the wrong ideas about you” I hid my discomfort with a quip, and my modesty with a towel from an undisturbed rack.
This shook Starswirl out of his stupor, and his face burned red with embarrassment for my sake, “Oh, right! The Acolytes of Chaos tried surprising us in our rooms, as you no doubt have figured out. I sensed the presence of my beacon spell in the back of my mind, but dismissed the sensation as being a figment resultant from Dew Drop’s delectable supply of lager”
‘And here I was hoping that he would be sober enough for his tracking spell to be of some usefulness’ I lamented.
“That reminds me…” I said aloud as I got dressed again, “Only one other person in this establishment knows which rooms were assigned and reassigned to us by our request” I stated, deducing the Innkeeper as an accessory to the Acolytes. We employed this tactic at all the places we stayed, to preserve our low profile and to discourage stuff like this. But if the Innkeeper was compromised, then that just made my evening a little more complicated.
“Dew Drop could be an unwilling accomplice to these Acolytes, Zenith” Starswirl brought up a good point, “Don’t do anything hasty”
“It’s not from her that I’ll be receiving my desired answers” I countered as I affixed my hidden blades to my wrists, “But she and I do need to have a short chat” I commented as I strolled out the door and down the stairs.
I found the woman cleaning flagons with a ragged cloth and looking perfectly innocent, which was a pretty obvious indicator that she was in bed with the Acolytes of Chaos. She saw me approaching with an unamused expression on my face and recoiled backwards with a shriek. She drew a tiny knife from her apron and held it out towards me like it would ward me off, taking a few swings at me even though I was out of range of the glorified butter knife. She backed herself up until her spine was kissing the wall, in a manner most reminiscent of mine not five minutes ago. She dropped her knife, where it fell to the floor with a clatter, and whimpered at the thought of what I might do to her for selling out her transient tenants.
I pressed my palm against the panel of the wall next to her head and my hidden blade extended, digging into the wall like it was nothing. I leaned in real close to her face and smiled toothily at her (which likely made me look like a batshit crazy basket case, now that I think on it) before speaking conversationally to her, “My companion and I had some unexpected company and made a bit of a mess in our rooms. If you don’t mind, love, could you get to tidying them up as soon as you can? I did my best to clean up the bloodstains, but you know how hard those are to wash out sometimes” I rolled my eyes at her, subtly implying that I knew of these things from gruesome firsthand experience, “Oh… and don’t ever become a sellout whore for the Acolytes of Chaos ever again, okay Sweetie? I’d hate for you to see my ugly side. (‘Like that cloaked man next to my bathtub will soon see himself’) Am I understood?” I scolded her in my ‘cross me again and die screaming’ tone.
She nodded frenetically and whimpered out a response that was too incoherent to make sense of. I retracted my hidden blade from the wall and returned to my room, leaving behind a woman who was beside herself with fear, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she wet her bed in terror whenever she would have nightmares about me. It was propitious that everyone had gone to sleep by now, or they would have seen her having an emotional break down on the floor of her Inn. She’d get no pity from me. Anyone who’d serve the Acolytes like that was making a poor life’s decision.
In my absence, Starswirl had been checking the vitals of the man I had ‘spared’, “This one will be awake before long. What do you intend to do with him?” Based on the tone of his voice, he was actually concerned for the man who had just tried to kill me.
“I’m going to sit him down for a talk” I answered ambiguously, “The Innkeeper’s going straight, by the way… I wouldn’t worry about her” I waved my hand in the air dismissively.
“What are you going to talk to him about?” Starswirl pressed, unconvinced by my assurance (‘Smart man’), “I doubt that you’re just going to have a cup a tea and biscuits with him and comment on the weather”
I hummed affirmatively, “You are correct in that assumption. I’m going to be asking him some very specific questions concerning his organization’s base of operations in the Vale… along with what they’re planning for the long haul. That is… if this worm even comprehends what he has gotten himself into” I nudged his body with my foot derisively.
“And you expect him to just reveal the secrets of the Acolytes?” The wizard was skeptical, “I don’t think asking nicely will get us anywhere with these Acolytes”
“I can be most persuasive” I retorted with an unsettling smirk.
“Will you harm him much?” The old man naïvely inquired, like he still retained the innocence of a child in some regards.
“That depends on how cooperative he is” I tersely snapped at him, “Why are you sympathizing with him? Have you forgotten Duskdale? This turd was probably there himself!” I leveled a condemnatory finger at the unconscious Acolyte.
“We don’t know that. He might have just been recently recruited!” Starswirl weakly repudiated my point, grasping at straws in defense of this scumbag’s life.
“Yet there was no innermost doubt of his cause or what they’ve been doing in his eyes as he rushed to stab me in the kidney” I calmly countered, “He’s made his bed in life… and now he has to lay in it, Starswirl”
He stood to his feet, “What about you! How much blood must be spilled before your thirst for vengeance is sated!?” He demanded to know.
My jaw set, “Until every single person who has been a gear in the Acolytes of Chaos’ machinations is either dead or locked away in some pit where they can never do to anyone what they did to Sweet Pea’s kith and kin ever again” I responded, remembering the indescribable pain in that little girl’s eyes that told me that she knew in her heart of hearts that her life as she knew it, was over.
Starswirl saw the futility of trying to convince me otherwise, “I will not stand in your way… but I worry for your soul, Zenith. Your desire for vengeance is dark… and darkness cannot be used to serve the light, never fully” He left me with that nugget of wisdom as he departed the room.
That left me with roughly an hour to prepare my lodgings and transform it into an interrogation chamber. I initiated the change by dragging the corpses into the hallway for Dew Drop to dispose of on her maid run and rearranging the furniture to give me stalking room. Using some hand tools in a shed that Dew Drop granted me access to (well… more like squeaked in terror and threw the keys at me, begging me to stay away from her), I constructed blocks to tie the man’s hands to that would be nailed into the table and allow me full access to. The wooden chair I left unchanged, since the man would be hard pressed to make any moves that would have a semblance of an escape with me in the room. I hoisted the unconscious man onto the chair and removed all of his possessions, even his cloak. Without it, he looked like a normal Agrarian man, with flaxen hair that had a sandy sheen to it. On his person were written kill orders for Starswirl’s head and mine, and even listed that we would be at the Squawking Bee. I would admit that the Acolytes had a better network of spies than I would have given them credit for, if they had that pivotal knowledge ahead of time. Lighting effects were central, and I doused all of the candles in the room except for the one I kept at the table. I tied him in place with knots that provided maximum restriction of movement, not bothering to ensure that he was comfy.
After I had proofed the room against any… undue noises leaking out with magic, it was a waiting game. To pass the time, I picked some of the gunk that had gotten into my nails with one of my throwing knives and wiping the grit away on the man’s shoulder. It would be another thirty minutes before he awoke at least, which gave me plenty of time to plot what I could do with him if he was a hardcore devotee to his ‘lord of chaos’. The restrained man stirred awake as he groaned in soreness from getting his ass justly kicked. His eyes opened and he blinked as he saw my expressionless face leaning in from across the opposite end of the table. He tried to shift in place, but discovered that he was a bit tied up at the moment. His breathing rate increased as he began to hyperventilate in a panic. Panic gave way to fear, which gave way to anger. I watched with a mildly fascinated expression as he cycled through these emotions within the course of a dozen seconds.
“Hi there! Hope your rest was… well, restful” I momentarily faltered before getting serious, “I’ll keep my demands simple. Tell me what I want to know, before I pry it from your mind and leave you a blubbering husk reduced to quivering on the floor” I threatened him. I could carry through with that threat too, but it wouldn’t be as satisfying as obtaining it the hard way.
“Then why don’t you!? I think you’re bluffing! Unenlightened trash!” He hawked a gob of spit at me, earning himself a smack across the face with the flat of my hand.
I wiped away his discharge, “I haven’t done so because unlike many in my position, I give my enemies a chance to come clean of their own volition. But if you prove to be excessively stubborn, I will. And you don’t want me to do that to you, trust me” I smiled cordially at him and magically flashed my crimson irises for maximum unsettling effect. My intimidation methods seemed to be taking their toll, and the man shrank back as far as he could and avoided my gaze.
“Where is your base of operations in this region?” I started out with a simple, straightforward question.
This one was given away easily, “It’s nestled in the bog-woods between Kathorn’s Rest and Gaia’s Gulch. Our fortress is garrisoned by hundreds of men; it’s proofed against attacks by air and by land. You and any attacking force would be cut down before you got within fifty feet of the place!” He shouted with pride.
I mulled over the minutiae of this information. That location would be a prime spot to construct a hidden base of operations. It was treacherous enough to get to that no one ordinary would stumble upon it by chance, but it was still close enough to civilization for its occupants to ride out and conduct their obligations of spreading chaos in what ways they could to glorify their leader and their god.
I smacked him across the face a second time, “Thank you for obliging me, but please don’t speak out of turn again” I casually warned him, “How would one bypass these defenses and sneak into this fort?” I asked hypothetically, circling him like a vulture circles a creature about to become carrion meat.
He became costive, “No… no more! They’ll kill me if I tell you” He tried to avoid divulging any more in some vain hope that I would just let him go and remain ignorant and empty handed. ‘Wouldn’t he just love that?’
“And you’ll wish I killed you if you don’t” I retorted, my red eyes flickering dangerously, “Now I suggest spilling the beans. If I like what I hear, I might consider setting you free” I enticed him with some ‘mercy’.
He perked up once I mentioned the possibility of him walking away. He glanced side to side in indecision, internally weighing the benefits of compliance and the penalties for intransigence. I’m a patient interrogator when I want to be, so I gave him some breathing room to think his decision through. Besides, it gave me a chance to innovate some new ‘convincing’ techniques in the probable event that he resists me.
Eventually he spoke, “When prompted by the men on guard duty, they will call out to you: ‘In the name of Chaos, who goes there?’ and you must respond with, ‘Woe be to those who tread behind me’ and they’ll open their gates for you” He revealed, though there was something about the code phrase and the unreserved way he so readily leaked it to me that reeked of a lie.
I decided to test the validity of his claim, “Hmm… I see. Only… there’s one problem with that” I snatched and wrenched four of his left hand fingers until they bent all the way back, dislocating them with a pop and causing him to yowl in intense pain, “You think me stupid enough that I wouldn’t recognize a compromised countersign when I heard one!?” I hissed angrily, “Tell me what the real access phrase is, or I’ll hurt you far worse than this” I seethed at him.
“You motherless bastard” He whimpered in insult, “I won’t betray my brothers in chaos… I won’t” He pledged.
“And is that your final answer?” I asked him in an equable voice, to which he responded to with silence, “I warned you about the consequences of denying me” I replied with a whisper, backing off in a show of disappointment.
Making sure it was within his view, I floated over a crude stone hammer with a wooden handle, along with a wedge. Prying open his right hand fist and pushing it against the table surface, I levitated the wedge over the nail of his pinkie and placed it firmly over the cuticle at an angle. Taking the hammer, I began lightly tapping at the wedge, gradually increasing the force of each tap until I was causing some actual damage. Each blow elicited a howl of pain as the nail was slowly separated from his finger. Despite his insistence on not being forthcoming, I had to hand it to him; he made it all the way to his thumb before he gave out.
“ARGHH!!! All right, all right! I’ll talk! I’ll ta-ha-ha-alk!” He blubbered, tears and snot coming out of his orifices in sheening rills.
“Glad you see it my way” I remarked with a lilt, “It gives me no pleasure to do this to you, I’ll have you know” My sadistic side disagreed, but I shut it up by sending it to the cordoned off ‘Rainbow and Butterflies’ section where all rebellious emotions go when they misbehave.
I won’t go into more explicit detail concerning what I did to that Acolyte, but I urged him to reveal everything he had on his organization. I got lucky, since he was higher up than an initiate, but not high enough to be anything superior to a lieutenant. I cross examined his responses and frowned when I uncovered inconsistencies between them. Unsheathing my Tantō and pulling his chair back to expose his leg, I cast a spell that would allow me to see his anatomy like an X ray and began to compose a symphony of wails and screams as I brushed the tip of my blade against the nerve endings in his leg like a bow string. I knew just when to stop, since I couldn’t have him bleeding or blacking out before he told me all that he knew about his organization’s procedures. He screamed at the top of his lungs until his throat was raw, and the only sounds that came out of him afterwards were hoarse wheezes like that of a broken squeeze toy. Since he could no longer speak, I passed to him a piece of parchment paper to write down the rest. His trembling fingers clutched at the quill and jotted down the remainder of his knowledge. Drops of blood from his torn fingernails mixed with the ink.
Within a few minutes, he had committed to paper an impressive fact sheet that could unravel the threads holding the Acolytes together if they were in the right hands at the right time. When all was said and done, he scrawled out one last thing: That’s everything I know. I swear it! Will you set me free?
I read his request and nodded, “Aye… I’ll set you free” He broke down and sobbed happily for a few seconds before I slammed his head into the table hard enough to splinter the wood and crack his Agrarian skill in twain, which put him back under. With my Tantō in hand, I ended his life by freeing his head from his miserable shoulders, my blade slicing through meat and bone with practically no effort on my part. I put the severed head in a sackcloth bag that I had acquired from Dew Drop’s shed, washed my hands and my blade of his lifeblood, and carried the head with me as I egressed from my room. I rolled my eyes as I saw Starswirl waiting outside my door in the hallway, like he had been listening.
“You and that man must have had voices that would make church mice jealous” He quipped, leaning over to peer into the room, “Where is he?”
“Right here” I patted the bag swaying at my hip, where a melon sized bulge could be seen saturating the bag with blood, “I’m keeping him close to me. Didn’t want him getting ahead of himself, now did I?” I uttered more morbid humor, my sociopathic side coming to the fore.
“You’ve killed him…” He trailed off, “Did you get him to expose the location of the Acolyte’s base?” His tone was neutral, and was neither condemning nor condoning of my actions.
“I did. And his head will serve me well for sneaking into their fortress, along with his cloak, and his organization’s official seal” I checked off the necessary items on the list for infiltration.
He sighed, “I cannot follow you this time, Zenith. And I hope that I can somehow convince you not to do this either. Killing the Acolytes in their base won’t bring back all of the people they’ve killed”
It wasn’t like I didn’t know that, “No… but I can rest peacefully knowing that their murders were avenged” I stated without regret, “And I won’t be in need of your help or intervention on this one… just your hat” I gestured to the iconic headwear that the wizard rarely removed.
Shockingly, he gave it up without a fuss, “Take it. Just promise me that you will come back as the Zenith I’ve come to know… the one who didn’t fixate himself on needless revenge. I’ll be busy here self chronicling my travels. But do not tarry for long, as the heroines remain our top priority” He left me to my own devices, closing the door behind him and locking it against intrusion. Shrugging to myself, I unlocked an unoccupied room across from my own and slept in there so that the smell of blood wouldn’t clog my nostrils with its fumes.
I didn’t dream that night.
When it was morning, I gathered all of my required materials, stowed them someplace obscure, and stepped outside. Ensuring that no one was watching, I spread my wings and took off in search of more of those Valkyrian scouts patrolling above the roadways with annoying regularity. Their routine patrolling proved to be helpful for a change, since I discovered a lone scout just an hour in. Climbing above the clouds, I shadowed him throughout the entirety of his patrol and back to the Skyborn’s base of operations here in the Dreamy Vale. Their base was more of an outpost, and looked recently constructed, with buildings for the housing of troops and Sky-wagons loaded with their provisions. They hunted the wildlife to refill their stores of meat as evidenced by the racks of venison some men were hauling on their shoulders from the ground, and their veggies looked to be the same that they managed to loot from Mirrimare. Still, the outpost was swarming with Skyborn like bees swarmed around their hive. Going full camo, I snuck past their perimeter sentinels and landed on the fluffy texture of the cloud based mega structure. Cloudcrete must have either not been invented yet or was difficult to produce outside of their cities, because nothing on this outpost was solid.
The Skyborn’s numbers had dwindled since Mirrimare, and there couldn’t have been more than one hundred and fifty men under Maelstrom’s command in this region. Speaking of the woman, she was standing outside of a cloud shaped barracks and was personally receiving the scout’s report of the activity on the roadways. Flight Leader Maelstrom’s face was set in an unyielding frown, likely having been chewed out by her superiors for the catastrophe in Mirrimare. I eavesdropped on how the scout reported in on the movement of the ‘grey cloaks’ as they had taken to calling them, and how they looked to be preparing for another culling of a town. This intrigued me almost as much as it did Maelstrom. It would seem that the Skyborn were keeping tabs on the Acolytes, and were even going so far as to stop them from carrying out some of their dastardly schemes whenever they caught wind of them. Perhaps my aspirations for an alliance would be easier for me to actualize than I thought.
“Flight Leader Maelstrom!” I announced my presence, uncloaking myself in broad daylight, “I wish to humbly request an audience with you” I showed no fear, even as her guards immediately surrounded me with their spears. I held up my arms in composed surrender as two of their number seized me and brought me before the Flight Leader at her behest.
If Maelstrom’s glare could kill… I would have been vaporized an exponential number of times. Even angry as all hell, she had a fierce beauty about her that made her alluring in that regard. I realized that I was projecting my affection for both Rainbow’s and Daring’s best qualities onto this woman, who may or may not be the distant ancestor of one or two of them. I would keep that tidbit to myself… no one needed to know that I liked decisiveness in a woman.
“You! You were Valkyrian this whole time!?” She shrieked, bringing up my winged stunt before the mountains. She came up to me and slapped me across the face, glaring balefully at me, “How dare you shame our kind by ignoring our mandates and associating with that wizard! He’s a threat to all of the Provinces!”
“How presumptuous. And I’ll associate myself with whomever I please, I think” I replied, smacking my lips together to negate the stinging sensation on my cheek.
Maelstrom grit her teeth at me, “You and that wizard Starswirl were the ones responsible for inciting the Agrarians in Mirrimare to revolt, weren’t you? You were clever, distracting me like that as your men isolated mine and drove them out” She looked upwards in fake recollection, “And I don’t remember ever getting an apology for making me look a fool. So how about it? Can you say: I’m sorry?”
Oh, she left me wide open for this jewel, “I’m s-… I’m sor-…” I pretended to verbally fumble, “I’m so… incredibly handsome. Nope! Can’t”
She let out that frustrated womanly sound, “I don’t have the patience for this nuisance. Skyborn who don’t fly with the flock have their wings clipped” She made a chopping motion across her throat, “Break his shoulders and toss him overboard” She commanded as she showed her back to me. Her soldiers moved to obey her, and I had to nab her interest before I went skydiving one final, harrowing time.
I spoke up before her men could make good on that order, “Do that and you’ll be missing out on a once in a lifetime chance for honor and glory!” I shouted in a piercing voice, stilling all those who were present.
She turned around and crooked her head sideways. Good, I had seized her curiosity, “What do you mean? Explain yourself!” She barked at me.
“What if I told you that I had learned the location of the Acolytes of Chaos’ main base of operations in this valley?” I posed hypothetically.
“I’d ask you to verify your claim, in case you were a coward who would say anything to avoid becoming a bloody smear on the ground” She dryly retorted, earning a few chuckles of amusement from her men.
“You honestly think I’d show up here just for the pleasure of your company?” I sarcastically shot back, “You’ve got a pretty face, sunshine, but that’s not reason enough for me to risk my skin coming here when I could be doing my own thing”
The man restraining me on my left socked me in the gut for my insolence, causing me to grunt. It hurt, but no Valkyrian around here had the strength to really knock the wind out of me. At least they weren’t wearing spiked gauntlets.
“My name is not Sunshine, arrogant fool. So mind your tongue before I have it removed with hot pincers… and stop dancing around the question!” She moodily demanded of me.
I shifted in the loose (relative to my physical, unassuming forte) grip of her soldiers, “Since you won’t let me do it myself, you’ll need to reach between my belt for the truth” I stipulated with a dead serious face.
Maelstrom sent a disgusted look my way to show me what she thought of that, “Not what you’re thinking!” I groaned with exasperation and just a hint of saddened rejection, “Just do it! You’ll see that I’m telling the truth” I assured her.
She begrudgingly ambled over and searched me, taking extra measures to make sure I didn’t enjoy her touch.
“Oye!” I yelped as she unabashedly pressed against some sensitive zones, “No need to be frisky! It should be right behind the triangular symbol on my belt, there’s a small recess there that works great for storing vials” Which reminded me that I should find a use for the ones Vitalitus gave me in the future, I never knew when I might need them.
She pulled out the seal of the Acolytes and examined it, “And why should I be impressed by this?” She asked, not seeing what was so special about the object.
“The Acolytes of Chaos use that seal as a badge of their authority. And I obtained that one from the highest ranking Acolytes I’ve yet to come across. If you present that to their gatekeepers and speak a passphrase, they’ll grant you passage into their base” I explained to the Flight Leader.
“Neat. What does this have to do with us?” She followed up, not showing any signs of what she was thinking. Wow, it was so easy to respect and hate this woman for that quality. Was that how people felt about my reticent personality?
“Their fortress is guarded against air assaults by way of ballistae loaded with nets and fragmenting projectiles. You can’t risk an open attack on it from the sky without suffering inordinate casualties… but you could lie in wait for someone to sneak in and make sure the main gate stays open” I hinted at the knowledge I possessed of how to accomplish that.
“All right. Let’s say I believe you… which I by no means do” She made clear, “Why should I risk the lives of my men based on the information that one of those cronies ratted out to you? How do I even know that it’s reliable?” She brought up a legitimate concern.
“Because I sat that crony down and talked to him about it for three hours” I answered with a slight sneer, “By the end of that time, he had lost the use of five of his ten fingers… and that was after I de-nailed him using a wooden wedge and a hammer. Trust me… When I tell you that he spilled his guts for me, I mean that in both ways”
She stared at me for few moments, before a sick grin replaced the hard line on her lips, “Huh… you’re not as much of a pansy as that pathetic excuse for a soldier my brother keeps at his side for some asinine reason. Very well,” She nodded, “I’ll consider it. But my honor remains sullied, and for that I must have satisfaction”
“And how shall I satisfy you, my lady?” I snidely remarked. Man, I could be cocksure sometimes.
She sniffed at the implied suggestion, “Don’t give me any ideas that you’ll regret. If you can best three of my men in unarmed combat without using magic and prove that you’re not just some hotshot mage with false wings, I’ll aid you in putting down those chaos worshipping freaks… fail, and you go for one last flight” She euphemized the idea of killing me.
“But I know where their fortress is! Off me and you’ll be left in the dark without their whereabouts” I protested, not seeing the point of this entire ‘honor satisfying’ business.
She shrugged apathetically, “So what if it takes us a few more weeks? There’s only so many places they can hide, and my men are combing the land for all of their possible hideout locations”
‘That’ll take a huge ass comb. She’s pretty brutal, but I suppose that I can expect nothing less from a strict woman like her’ Secretly, I agreed with her policies.
“Fine” I growled.
Maelstrom motioned for her men to let go of me and back up into a fight circle. Three of the most burly and intimidating soldiers unequipped their weapons and stepped into the ring of honor. Maelstrom really must have wanted to send me on my way down, because instead of attacking one at a time, they charged me all at the same time. I skipped to the right and grappled one of the men, using his momentum to fling him away from his comrades and into the arms of his comrades, who stumbled back to receive him before urging him back into the ring. The two that were supporting each other sent with a flurry of punches, jabs, and kicks that were easy to slap down or grapple with Wing Chun style martial arts. Speedy strikes, coupled with my Trifect strength meant that I had an unfair advantage in a close quarters match even when I was attacked on all sides.
I wanted to use True Sight to enhance my fighting capability even further, but that would have been voiding the rules, and I was only void of honor when it suited my purpose better than honor did. Lucky hits from the Skyborn that got past my defenses felt like the stray flailing and thrashing of a toddler, since only the strongest of Agrarians could strike me with enough force to stun me for a significant amount of time. The three men had formed up again and launched a simultaneous, coordinated assault on me, kicking and punching at my torso in unison. I deflected the majority of their strikes until I spotted my chance to turn the tides of this tussle when all three of their fists were level. I let their attack collide with my chest and sandwiched their combined fists between my arms before I lashed out with kicks to their exposed legs, causing them to buckle and the Skyborn to lose their footing. I seized the head of one of the downed men and struck repeatedly at his face until his nose was bloody and he was rendered unable to fight. With one less combatant to worry about, dispatching the other two was a matter of blocking and striking at the neck to cut of their air supply before flipping them over my shoulder and onto the soft ‘matting’ of the cloud. My defeating three of their best soldiers had the ring of men on edge, and many began pointing their weapons at me again.
“That’s enough! Stand down!” Maelstrom commanded her men to break it up, “He’s proven himself enough to warrant our backing… even if he’s some kind of magic wielding, Skyborn mutant” She mumbled her own opinion.
“Huzzah!” I copied Luna’s common expression of triumph or excitement, “When can we get started with dismantling the Acolytes of Chaos?”
“As soon as you tell us where their base is and when night falls” Maelstrom answered, “But one last thing” She walked up to me and smacked me across the face (no need to turn the other cheek mandatory) with a potency that her best soldiers couldn’t muster in the ring, before grabbing me by the neck and forcing me to her level, “That’s for insulting my mother. Do it again and I’ll make you wish you were never born” She snarled at me.
I held up my hands in a placating gesture and smiled sheepishly, “Acknowledged” I simpered, both of my cheeks having been slapped in the span of one morning, “So was there an actual point to this exercise? Or do you just enjoy watching me kick ass?” I gestured to the disgruntled men who were getting a helping hand from their comrades onto their feet. The woman didn’t dignify my sarcastic question with a reply. And I could have been imagining it, but I would swear that I spied a flickering ghost of a smile manifest on the austere Flight Leader’s lips.
Maelstrom invited me into her headquarter building (which had furnishing! Though it was spartan décor and only intended to be practical with its usage) where we were to begin planning for the attack on the Acolytes’ fortress. She scowled and fumed angrily when she heard about its location between Kathorn’s Rest and Gaia’s Gulch, which was a brumous bog that made scouting overhead for their base like searching for a straw of hay in a needle stack. Maelstrom had only one hundred and thirty five men divided into five groups with her on their expedition to the Dreamy Vale, since some of them were allocated back to the Provinces as a result of her embarrassing fumble with Mirrimare. Oddly enough, she held no personal resentment towards Starswirl and I’s actions in rousing the town into open rebellion. She didn’t agree with how the Skyborn dishonored their own tenants by exploiting helpless Agrarian settlements in their bid to one up the Stellar Magi, but she was duty bound to serve at the bidding of her father and the Senate.
In private, Maelstrom wasn’t quite as dour, and answered many of my questions about the Provinces and her military rooted family, especially after I gave her the privilege of knowing my ‘name’. As the Over-Commander of the Skyborn military, Maelstrom’s father Typhoon had absolute power during times of crisis or full on war, but since the contest with the Stellar Magi was more of a cold conflict, the Senate had most of the guiding hand in matters of government. Once composed of elected officials that merited their station, the Senate of the Skyborn had since devolved into inherited positions of power for the wealthy and connected citizens who didn’t want to commit to the five years of military service required of all adult male civilians, and had the pedigree to exploit a loophole in the system. Maelstrom had known many senators in her seven years of leadership, and couldn’t recall a single one that wasn’t a stuck up milksop who bashed on all the ground dwellers, as was popular among the Valkyrians.
Maelstrom’s older brother was the poster child of the Skyborn. He was raised practically from birth by his father to one day take over as Over-Commander, and by his meteoric rise through the ranks and victories scored against the Stellar Magi, it certainly seemed like he was meant to. Maelstrom by comparison, voluntarily joined the military to garner the approval of her father, whom she suspected of privately wanting a second son to groom for leadership. Her mother died when she was very young, but she had fond memories of her that never failed to cheer her up on a bad day. She and her brother were never close as children, as he was too full of hot air for her to tolerate his overbearing presence. And her relationship with her father was tense at best, and icy at the worst. Nothing she seemed to do pleased her father, and I think she was starting to realize that she was unlikely to ever do so. Half of the reason that Maelstrom went through with pursuing Starswirl and I into the Dreamy Vale was because she refused to return to her father a disgrace. But it was the atrocities of the Acolytes that convinced her to stay.
Maelstrom and I scrutinized a map of the Dreamy Vale that her cartographer scouts crafted after a week of observing the land from above. Her outpost was located immediately north of the mountains and below the center of the valley. To the west was the Inn where Starswirl and I were staying, and northwest of that was the expansive and largely unmapped Bloodgrove, whose neighboring road was the pathway that the maidens were slated to be returning on. Starswirl and I had agreed beforehand that we would meet them halfway on that road, so we would be removed from any untrustworthy ears when we informed them about their destiny to become more than just the local heroes of one lone valley. Dotting the map at random intervals were hamlets and villages that the Acolytes of Chaos had culled, and they were marked with red X’s that served as a harsh reminder of what could happen when unity was nonexistent and evil went about its business unchecked.
I thanked Maelstrom for agreeing to lend me the support of herself and her men before I briefed the Flight Leader on what she should expect. She brushed off my gratitude with the excuse that her soldiers were chomping at the bit for a good scrap anyway. She was rightfully authorized to engage the Acolytes since they were legally deemed an enemy of the Provinces for their massacring of ‘settlements of interest’ which was Skyborn legal jargon for the Acolytes deleting potential sources for their exploitation.
“From what the man I interrogated divulged to me, the fortress has a garrison that will at minimum be double that of those you have at your command and triple that number at maximum” I explained to the woman, “Force of arms won’t win the day on this one, so we’ll have to resort to sneakier methods of undermining the fortress”
“I think you underestimate the resolve of my soldiers against superior numbers” Maelstrom wryly remarked, but listened, “What’s the layout of the fortress? You told me that it was fortified against air attacks, but nothing about what its walls were composed of or its weakest points”
“Hand me something to write with, please” I adjured her. I held up my hand and curled it in a ‘gimme’ gesture. The woman sighed and gave me a luxurious feather quill that was pre dipped for me.
I illustrated the dimensions of the fort on Maelstrom’s spare parchment paper, sketching a standard four sided square of wooden palisades and picket posts in the first layer that functioned as perimeter lookout. The second layer of defenses were the main gates of the square stone fortress itself, where I would present myself to gatekeepers and utter the line ‘May the Lord of Chaos, warp us, change us, and make us perfectly imperfect in the cleansing flames of havoc’ when prompted. To be additionally sure they let me in, I would present them the head of the dead Acolyte and claim it to be that of the wizard’s companion with his own voice, using a vocal emulation spell. The official seal was a backup badge of identification, and wasn’t liable to be demanded of me to show.
There was a small interruption in our planning phase as one of Maelstrom’s scouts reported in on a secret path enshrouded by the foliage of the bog-woods that presumably led to the fortress. The scout had espied a ranging party of grey cloaks that were unquestionably members of the Acolytes, thus conveniently corroborating my info as a fact to the Skyborn commander. Maelstrom thanked him for his report and ordered him to brief the men in turn to prepare for the melee that would transpire this night.
Once I was inside, I could either keep up the charade for a time or avail myself of my maximum potential as a Trifect, unlock the gate, and obliterate my way to the winching rooms to raise the secondary portcullis gates around the fortress permanently. If I could, I would also demolish any of the ballistae and anti Valkyrian defenses they had on the walls. Skyborn strategy heavily mimicked blitzkrieg tactics to overwhelm the enemy with speed and numbers before they could react and properly mount a counteroffensive, so the element of surprise had to be augmented with that of speed. Maelstrom’s men would converge on the castle from all sides, by land and by air.
To deal with the outer defenses, the Skyborn above would use a tactic favored for its shock and awe factor, and would set fire to the rain by infusing clouds with oil and making them precipitate before igniting them with a match or other striking implement. The outer palisade defenses would either panic or be set alight, become cooked in their armor, and become easy kills for the men on the ground. The Acolytes were all about chaos, so why not make the scene of their last stand as chaotic as possible? As a statement of how the Acolytes were in for a nasty surprise, I took my Tantō and stabbed it into the map where the fortress could be found.
The hours passed speedily as Maelstrom and her men armored up and got ready to make war. When the time came, I returned to the Squawking Bee, collected my essential materials, and appropriated one of the horses that the late assassins’ used to travel here from their fortress, since I wouldn’t want to risk Night Wind’s life in the battle to ensue there. Even if he wouldn’t have a problem with it, I would… that horse had grown on me, and even Starswirl took a liking to him after we switched turns riding and walking beside him on the roadways. I wasn’t very communicative with my latest steed, a brown coated stallion who was even less friendly to me in return, which helped me to stay emotionally detached.
He was still useful to me though, and recognized the route that would take me to the concealed fortress in the bog-woods, galloping on it with mechanical, memorized movements. Glints of light from above notified me that Maelstrom’s Skyborn were following my lead (Though they answered solely to their Flight Leader). I had donned a mostly bloodstain free cloak provided to us by our would be killers and drew the hood over my head, so that none of them would recognize that I wasn’t one of their own. On the way, I practiced with my voice emulation spell; attempting to match the pitch and tone of the man I had interrogated… and then killed in cold blood. Perhaps Starswirl was right… maybe I was transforming into a monster that relished in destroying other monsters without my notice. I groaned to myself and shook my head vigorously to derail that train of thought, for this was not an appropriate time to be self reflecting on the kind of person I was becoming.
The bog-woods were east of the Bloodgrove by several leagues, and nestled into the metaphorical heart of the Dreamy Vale. It bothered me how these Acolytes had gone unnoticed for such a period of time, as the bog-woods were in a prime location to spread out their influence and let it fester in the neighboring towns that were akin to minor kingdoms in the Vale. The woods themselves were self explanatory based on the title. They were a combination of a gnarled forest that had wide patches of bogs that would deter any armies that tried to move their troops into the woods in a wide scale incursion. The foggy air was boggy and saturated with rot, which reminded me far too much of the hostile portions of the Neverfree at times. The path that my steed knew by heart terminated when the wet marshes became solider ground that was impaled with twelve foot tall wooden logs that were so well planted that they must have been hammered into the earth with tools, or magic.
“Halt!” A staunch voice called out from behind the palisade as my horse’s footfalls became audible, “Who goes there? Be you friend or foe?”
I got the seal ready in my hands in case it was needed and spoke, “Only a disciple of our glorious Herald of Chaos!” I put some gusto in my modified voice. Officers of the Acolytes were considered to be personal apprentices of Double Cross, while initiates like this toady were subservient servants of chaos.
I heard a chuckle and a guard fully garbed in embossed plate armor stepped out from behind the palisade, “Boulder, is that you?” He addressed me with familiarity, which could complicate things if I didn’t handle this right, “You back from hunting down that meddlesome wizard and his pesky friend? You were expected hours ago!” He exclaimed before his brow furrowed, “Didn’t others go with you, Boulder?”
“The others… fell during the struggle” I trailed sadly, “But they died fighting for a cause worth snuffing out the lives of those arrogant fools who would dare oppose us!”
“They bit the dust, eh?” The guard scratched at his chin, “Real shame… one of ‘em owed me fifteen Bob. Won’t be getting that money back, now will I?” He chortled again, not really caring that his comrades were dead, “Anywho… I’ve held you up long enough. Did you bring back your quarries’ heads as instructed?” He indulged his curiosity.
I gestured at the bag swinging at my hip with a sideways twitch of my head and grinned at him (Even though he couldn’t see it), “Just the one… I’m afraid. But our Herald will be pleased to know that there’s one less thorn in his side” I flicked the reins and my steed progressed past the guard and through fifty feet of mysteriously unoccupied campgrounds. The campgrounds were extensive enough that they could have supported a small army. So where was their main force?
My steed came to an automatic halt ten feet outside of the swinging arc of the gate. Sentries on the crenelated battlements saw me and one of their number addressed me formally, “In the name of Chaos, who goes there!?”
‘I imagine if I was a renegade, I would utter the compromised passphrase and use the chaos to slip past their defenses and kill their leader myself’ I ideated, but I was a better man than that.
“May the Lord of Chaos, warp us, change us, and make us perfectly imperfect in the cleansing flames of havoc” I responded with not much fervor. The lord of chaos that I knew was nothing more than a bureaucratic headache, and even he abhorred the idea of death, which was a short term gain, long term loss concept to him. So these Acolytes weren’t even being faithful to their lord’s ideals.
“I’ve a token for our Herald!” I proclaimed, holding up the bloody sack, “The head of one of the fools who deemed it wise to oppose his and our lord’s plans for this world!”
The men on the walls glanced at each other and pulled out of sight. For a moment I was worried that I had been discovered somehow, but the rumbling sound of the main iron constructed gate being pushed open erased any chances of that being a reality. My horse lazily strode inside to the stables and I dismounted from him as he continued on his merry way, having a look around as I did so. The interior of the fortress was standard for a four sided fort, with a barracks for the inner garrison, an armory for their weapons, and a boxy keep where all the valuable loot could be pillaged. Torches and lanterns provided illumination throughout the simplistic complex, though there was more of that symbol I saw in Duskdale painted everywhere. It was on the banners, on the signs of the buildings, even on the doors leading to the privies! There were Acolytes aplenty too, but not as many as I would have speculated prior to seeing it for myself. There couldn’t have been more than two hundred and fifty men manning the fort, and only a couple dozen men patrolling along the lengths of the palisades outside.
I was about to explore the place when an official looking character with a goatee that was flanked by four metal plated guards approached me. His arms were folded against themselves and tucked into his yellow robes, which were ornately decorated and designed to look regal. They also religiously displayed that symbol which must have been the official insignia of the Acolytes. He had the classic appearance of being the guy in charge around here when the boss was out on business.
“You’ve returned to us, I see. And you’ve brought us a head. Excellent” Despite his praise, his tone indicated that his commending was meant sardonically.
I kept up my false identity, “Eeyup… one head from the Squawking Bee, right here” I held out the bag for him to hold, mindful of keeping the bells snuggled against my backside from jingling. Starswirl’s hat wasn’t meant for these Acolytes, but would make a decent peace offering to Maelstrom after we had wiped this scum from the face of the Earth.
The official frowned and tsk’ed his tongue as he felt the weight of the severed head, “Only one head, Boulder. You were commanded by our Herald himself to bring back two heads, or not to come back at all” He gazed at me menacingly, “You know the penalty for failure, Boulder… and yet you came back to us regardless. Perhaps you were smart enough to realize that it did not matter where you would run to, for we would hunt you down and mete out your punishment anyway. Either that, or you must have a death wish… you’re doomed Boulder” His fingers pulled at the strings of the bag to scrutinize the head’s identity and I knew that my hand would be forced here.
‘And of course their chain of command doesn’t tolerate failure without the penalty of death’ I mentally grumbled. So much for exploring this place without a fight.
“Out of my way, you worm” My voice became more heated and less false as I resolved to fight my way up to the wall and accomplish my objectives. Maelstrom and I had not agreed upon an established signal that would relay to the observing Skyborn that I had done my part, but she and her men were flexible enough to perceive anything out of the ordinary as a sign that they should commence with the assault.
The Acolyte Castellan of the fort yawned in unthreatened boredom, “Bare your teeth as much as you wish, Boulder… you were never as tough as you portrayed yourself to b- huerk!” He dropped the sack and clutched at his throat as one my throwing knives found purchase in his Adam’s apple with the guidance of magic. I threw off the cloak and repeated the same thing to the commander’s shocked subordinates, the blades digging into the gaps between their helmets and otherwise impervious chest plates and tasting their blood. As they sank to the dirt and bled out, I grasped at my bona fide hood and drew it over my head like a lethal fashion statement.
Knowing that the men on the wall would have detected the noisome disturbance, I retrieved my throwing knives and moved swiftly and mercilessly forward as I advanced towards and up the steps, cleaving any man that would have the gall to stand in my way in two with Dichotomy. The Mage-blade did not care how much armor they were sporting; their iron skins only mildly slowed the inexorable edge of my implacable blade as they were hewn down one at a time. Crossbowmen responded to the threat in their midst by launching their loaded weapons at me. I cast a barrier spell around myself at the last moment that caused their bolts to bounce off the shield with a glimmering effect.
With the crossbowmen on the wall occupied with reloading their weapons for another volley, I rushed forward with my glowing sword in hand and chopped them into bloody bits as I zigged and zagged my way between them on the walkway. The ballistae that were the most hazardous to my Skyborn allies were my first target, and I knew of a way to turn them to my purposes as well. Channeling flame into Dichotomy, I hacked away at the oversized crossbows and ignited their fragile components. They took to burning and soon became signal fires that alerted the Skyborn overhead to initiate their own firestorm. The fortress was in a confused state of alarm, and men scrambled back and forth without any idea of what they were to do without their castellan to give them orders. Many of them marveled as they gazed at the skies over the fortress, which turned from a dark grey to an angry red and orange as flaming droplets of combustion rained down on the palisades and set them on fire. I heard the shouts of men and the clashing of blades just beyond the wall as Maelstrom personally lead the charge on the main gate.
Remembering that this assault would fail without the main gate pried open, I left my work with the ballistae on the walls half finished as I leapt off the wall and swooped towards the gate, cutting down extra Acolytes as I flew. I landed hard and drew my Tantō with my free to prep an overwhelming force spell that would take a generous chunk out of my mana reserves, but would be worth it. The very air distorted and rippled as I watched the screen of force slam into the metal gate and shear it off of its hinges, tumbling to the ground with a rumble of iron. My magic was still underdeveloped compared to that of the future Princesses of Arcania, but it had enough raw power behind it that I could engender every Stellar Mage who witnessed the effects of my mojo firsthand to faint from an overdose of radicalness (As so eloquently defined by the illustrious Rainbow Dash). With the main entrance accessible and half of the ballistae on the wall rendered effectively inoperable, Skyborn flooded in through the main gateway and engaged with the fort’s defenders, who had finally gotten their act together and fought the intruders in a lined formation.
The Skyborn here had a notable advantage when it came to armaments, which inflicted damage that even the well armored defenders staggered from, many of whom hadn’t even the time to put on most of their accoutrements. My allies were still at a big disadvantage number wise, so I joined into the fray with a piercing battle cry that rallied the Skyborn around me and instilled them with fervor for the fight as we hacked and slashed away at our mutual enemy in the Acolytes. The portcullis gates were not necessary at this point, as so many of Maelstrom’s men had breached the walls that it would have been a waste of energy. The ballistae that had not been destroyed by me were in the process of being cranked around and turned on the men in the courtyard of the fort. Even though their own troops were on the field, the men manning the ballistae fired their deadly splitting projectiles that critically wounded to outright skewered over two dozen men from both parties. Seeing for myself the threat that these artillery emplacements represented, I parried a spear strike and lopped off the offending man’s head with a lazy swing of Dichotomy, before taking flight towards the ballistae to finish what I started and put them out of commission.
The men reloading the ballistae shrieked as I came down on them with the intensity of a tornado. I shattered my Mage-blade and swirled the shards around me in a telekinetic storm that dismembered anyone unlucky enough to be situated in its radius. Ten seconds of this and the remainder of the ballistae were put out of action. Briefly, I watched the men in the courtyard duking it out with each other, the noises of their blades making contact with steel, flesh, and bone was like a cacophonous symphony of battle, which could even be likened to the music of war. I was decidedly neutral about how I felt about this. I despised war… and everything negative that it wrought upon the people and the planet, but I wasn’t so naïve that I deemed it as something that served no purpose. I was an avid watcher of war flicks and documentaries before I came here, and my keen eyes could make out the shape of the Skyborn formation on the ground. It was a V styled spearhead that gradually pushed against its opposition with increasing gains. It certainly helped that we had air support from airborne crossbowmen who picked off the Acolytes’ field sergeants and prevented them from organizing a stalwart defense. Flight Leader Maelstrom was at the fore of the Valkyrians and was living up to her name, whirling, spinning, and sculpting a bloody trail of death to leave in her wake with her blade. Not wanting her to have all of the fun, I flew above the thickest concentration of Acolytes and sent shockwaves through their ranks with a ground pound.
The battle incrementally wore down over the course of an hour that felt like an eternity with all the adrenaline flowing through my veins. The Acolytes on the field had been painstakingly vanquished and put to the sword. Their dead lay piled onto the field by the droves, and were already beginning to reek of death. Valkyrian bodies dotted the field too, and my heart went out to the families of those valiant men. Funny, how only scant weeks ago I regarded them as little more than winged thieves, but personal experience with the demonized Skyborn taught me to understand that they were people too… and future Arcanians at that.
The last remnants of the Acolytes had holed themselves up in the keep, and were taking potshots at us through the building’s embrasures. Thankfully, the least exhausted of Maelstrom’s men had found a six-man, handheld battering ram in the armory that would prove to be most helpful in breaking down the doors and ending those scum too. I walked about the field as men held their deceased brothers in their arms and sobbed openly, their friends and even family members having been lost to them forevermore. The fortress’s interior was in ruins, the barracks were burnt down, the stables were smashed (I was really glad that I didn’t bring Night Wind along), and the men in the keep were in for a calamity. I found the Flight Leader speaking to one of the lieutenants under her command and receiving the casualty report. Our casualties weren’t horrific, numbering only at twenty eight men injured and twenty one that had been slain, compared to the hundreds of Acolytes that we had bushwhacked in their own home.
The Flight Leader hid it well, but these losses weighed heavily on her conscious. Her body wasn’t in peak condition after the battle either. Her once immaculate golden armor was sullied by the blood of her slain enemies, and her eyes were strained with exhaustion and veiled sadness. She had sustained light injuries on her arms and thighs that bled slightly, but she ignored them, going so far as waiting until her field medics were finished treating the last of her wounded men before tending to her. Even in this scratched and battered state, she was no less dazzling to behold.
“You have my condolences for the loss of your men” I offered her my sympathies, “I wish that it hadn’t come to th-…”
She held up an interrupting hand and looked at me with a pained smile, “I appreciate your sympathy, Zenith. Though they could have been worse had you not been such a terror on the battlefield. You did a superb job softening up their defenses and securing our entry into the fort. I’m not sure whether to be surprised at your brutal efficiency or gladdened that it was not used against me in Mirrimare” She flattered me, “You’d slain at least three quarters of a hundred men, according to some of the troops who fought beside you. You are full of surprises… both astonishing and pleasant”
I smirked, “Speak for yourself, Flight Leader. You more than pulled your own weight. You excelled by an impressive degree out there; our left flank wouldn’t have managed to stay rigid had you not attended to it in person. There’s no doubt in my eyes that you’re more than worthy of your father’s mantle, equally if not more so than your brother” I spoke the sincere truth.
She sighed in forbearance, “I’ve come to accept that I’ll never be able to live up to my father’s expectations, if only because he’ll keep adjusting them to be just shy of perfection. But I didn’t do this to honor my father or even to honor the might of the Provinces. I did it because these men needed to be stopped” She asserted, solidifying my admiration for her.
I frowned when I recalled the emptied campgrounds outside the walls, “And so they have… in no small part due to you and your men’s efforts here tonight” I kept that observation to myself. Maelstrom had sacrificed enough on this. Starswirl and I would just have to deal with Double Cross by ourselves.
Maelstrom inhaled and stood straight, “I need to get the funeral pyres prepared. You might be ignorant to this, newfeather, but Valkyrians cremate their dead on the site where they fought and died. Please excuse me” She gave orders to her men to find all the unspent wood that they could and to pile their fallen onto it.
Meanwhile, I aided the fresh Skyborn troops in clearing out the keep, putting up a barrier spell in front of them to deflect the crossbolt rounds that were ready and waiting for them. Skyborn rarely carried shields larger than bucklers, since those were tools that did not fit their fight and flight combat style, so my defensive magical spells were a lifesaver for the men behind me. The mages were the only real threats left, but their magic missiles could not overpower my shield, and a sharp retort with my throwing knives through selective gaps in my shield neutralized them. Perhaps I earned their respect by being in the thickest part of the fighting, but the men to my rear cheered my name as I took point in exterminating the last of the Acolytes as we moved from floor to floor and room to room. Some of them even had the chutzpah to beg for mercy. I coldly retorted by referring to the same mercy shown to Duskdale before I impaled them through the throat with Dichotomy.
With the keep emptied of hostiles, I was free to search around the five story structure for anything that would enlighten me to Double Cross’s scheming plans. There was a treasury vault that was stocked with whatever leftover gold the Acolytes had left. It wasn’t overflowing, but there was enough wealth remaining that Maelstrom and her men could return home with a soldier’s wages complemented by the spoils of war. The real treasure in my opinion though was Double Cross’s personal quarters at the top of the keep. The lavish décor said a lot about his personality, that he was a Stellar Mage that thought highly of himself and wanted everyone else to know that his superiority deserved its due.
His journal entries however, were the most telling indicators about his state of mind (How arrogant of this man to hide them so poorly and not protect them with traps. Not that any of those measures would have stopped me from reading them). I expeditiously scanned through them with the aid of a rapid study spell that Twilight had shown me and discovered that Cross was sane, though there was a hunger to his words about momentarily serving a nameless, dissonant deity that whispered to him in his dreams in order to become a divine being himself that were cause for concern.
With the intermittent guidance of this nameless deity, he had used his snowballing influence after his banishment from Stellaria to infiltrate an unknown group of individuals that worshiped a being that was the living avatar of chaos, and were devout enough to serve his foul purposes should he gain control of them. He became their Herald through dark prophecies of his own that were supplied by this deity that would come true with macabre effect. He preyed on the weaknesses of the Acolytes by promising them that with himself at the wheel, he would unite all of the clans under their rule and the rule of their chaotic overlord. His master was indeed aware of the Prophecy of the Sisters of Fate regarding the Heroines and saw them as a threat to himself (and his mouthpiece Cross by extension) that needed to be erased.
It was this enigmatic deity that revealed to him the location of the deceased Dragon’s hoard, and bid him to use that wealth as a means of spreading his influence north, eventually culminating in the fortress that I was standing in currently. Cross had never disobeyed the instructions of the dissonant being, but once asked what the being’s motives were and why he should serve it. His journal entry ended there… and the next entry was a note to himself never to question his dark master again under pain of a thousand excruciating deaths looped in his mind instead of ten (At least until he was powerful enough to challenge this being anyway).
This was disturbing news to me. Double Cross may have been acting of his own volition, but he was clearly just a pawn for something far more evil. The blood rituals that Cross had been personally performing in too many of the hamlets and villages were to feed this dissonant entity death… while also siphoning a minuscule fraction of the extinguished life energies to empower himself. He still couldn’t use magic, but these rituals had given him powers that were indifferent to the scarred hole on his forehead. His entries were vague on the nature of these powers, but he enjoyed using them to intimidate his political foes and unruly subordinates into submission.
Cross was wary of his former mentor in magic, and knew that Starswirl would stop at nothing to find the heroines that were destined to unite the clans under Harmony. To counteract this scenario, he sent hunting parties to apprehend him, spread rumors of his quest threatening to destabilize the Valkyrian Provinces to bait the Skyborn into chasing him, and admitted to looking forward to being able to torture the wizard himself for his role in getting him ousted from Stellaria’s grace if none of those things halted him. The last entry was of his frustration about how these heroines simply refused to die no matter what he threw at them and his decision to personally kill them. He would bring along half of his forces in the Vale to support him as an added assurance that they would succumb. He had heard the hearsay that they would return along the road abreast of the fringes of the Bloodgrove, and his spies in the town they were visiting had sent messenger birds to confirm this. According to the date on the entry, they had left this night, and would be anticipating them along several points in ambush as they traveled back in the morning. This meant that I had a limited timeframe to get back to Starswirl and warn him of the imminent danger that the heroines faced come the sunrise.
I egressed from the keep to see the Flight Leader presiding over the crackling funerals of her deceased soldiers as their bodies were cremated side by side on a lengthy makeshift pyre composed of debris, and was in the middle of eulogizing them.
“…Officer Nimbostratus, Bronze Shield, Hazy Spark, and Windstorm. Each and every one of these brave men were a paragon of what the Skyborn strive to be, and they bring honor to themselves and their families. The Provinces of Valkyria have lost some of its best. We will miss them” She bowed her head, and the men under her command removed their helmets in unison out of courteousness for their fallen brothers, “We Valkyrians are the children of the sky, and so we consecrate the ashes of our fallen to the breeze. To float forevermore amongst the blue yonder that calls each of us home” As she concluded her eulogy, the men in the gathering spread their wings and beat them forward as one, issuing forth a wave of air that scattered the ashes onwards and upwards into the night sky.
I witnessed their funeral rites with rapt fascination, and murmured a short prayer for them as well. I felt guilt about involving them in this sordid affair, but knew that they were men of action that comprehended what perilous things were required of them. Even Squadron Officer Nimbostratus had redeemed himself in my eyes, in spite of his disdain toward the other clans, he had fought to defend them… even if it was indirect and likely unintentional.
With her deceased men given a proper sendoff, Maelstrom noticed me solemnly standing to the side and motioned for me to speak with her in private. I obliged and we walked to the top of the wall over the main gate of the fort, overlooking the still blazing palisades. She and I watched the flames consume their fuel source for a while before she spoke her peace.
“I cannot return to the Provinces without the Wizard, Zenith” She regretfully apprised me that she could not go home empty handed, “I’m treading on thin cloud as it is, what with my failure to contain Mirrimare and embarrassing the Provinces on a state level”
“Were your mission parameters strictly confined to capturing him?” I questioned, quirking a brow.
She nodded, “Yes… failing that, I was to execute him as a threat to Olympia. I should be grateful that I wasn’t ordered to capture you” She jested, trying to lighten the mood. I wasn’t as receptive to it as she might have preferred, but scoffed playfully to cheer her up.
“What if you couldn’t bring back a body as proof of his death? But had one of his personal effects to show to the Senator that bid you here?” I posed to her with a sly tone.
She looked at me curiously, before grinning, “I sense that you have a solution here that will satisfy both of us”
“I always plan for contingencies. Never hurts to be prepared for even unlikely circumstances” I stated, pulling the squished hat out from my back and dusting it off, causing the bells to jingle, “Present this hat to your superiors, and tell them that you were unable to nab your prize, but were able to guarantee that he won’t be a threat to Olympia in the future. The wizard self immolated to avoid capture, which is why you couldn’t bring back a body. This hat was the only thing left of him that was intact” I fabricated a story for her to tell, “Starswirl isn’t likely to be found down south again until he concludes his business here… which could take time” I hinted at the period he would spend molding the future Princesses for ruling their kingdom.
“It’s not exactly a lie, so I will agree to this arrangement” Maelstrom consented in her professional tone while relieving me of the hat, before altering it with a curious one, “Does he really seek to join the clans under a banner of Harmony?”
I glanced at her sidelong, “No… that’s just a ploy to divert undue attention away from himself so he can advertise the greatness of the flying spaghetti monster unmolested” I deadpanned, “Of course he wants to unite the clans! This animosity between the Skyborn, Stellar Magi, and the Agrarians must be put to an end”
Maelstrom scowled at my sarcasm, but still had other points to raise, “If I wanted to say… get in contact with him, how would I do this? It’s not to go back on our deal, I give you my word” She pledged.
I shook my head, “I never had a doubt that you honor your promises, Maelstrom. Starswirl will contact you through proxies… be on the lookout for anyone who introduces themselves as a member of the Triumvirate” I instructed her, “Are you having second thoughts about your loyalty to your father and government?” I quizzed her in return.
“My loyalty… is to the tenets of the Skyborn. Not my father… and certainly not the Senate” She gruffly replied.
I chuckled, “I’m charmed that you’re beginning to prioritize your moral values over your duties to your government. Every single person makes a difference in bringing about positive change” I told her, staring past the inferno and out to the milky horizon illuminated by the cool rays of the moon.
“I know that expression” Maelstrom commented, “This is where we part ways, isn’t it?”
“Afraid so, my dear. Why?” I rakishly grinned at the woman, “You aren’t seriously going to miss me, are you?”
Maelstrom failed to see the humor in it, “At first you were no more to me than some nuisance who had a smart mouth in need of boiled tar. But you’ve earned my respect, and even some of my esteem, which isn’t given out lightly” She sighed and rubbed at her face before looking at me strangely, “I’ve never excelled at this sentimentality concept, but will I ever see you again?”
I gazed into her beautiful magenta eyes that searched for something in mine that I couldn’t possibly give her. Friendship, camaraderie, or even outright affection. It didn’t matter, for I couldn’t persist here.
I wouldn’t lie to her. She deserved better than that, “This will be the last time you see me, Maelstrom (‘Though a part of you will live on in future generations’)” I held out my hand to her, “It’s been a joy to know you, Flight Leader, even in the short time that we’ve shared. Goodbye”
She took my offered hand and shook it, struggling to maintain a straight face as I brought her knuckles to my lips for a gentle kiss, “Likewise. Farewell Zenith, and may the indomitable spirit that thrives inside all of the Skyborn guide you in all that you do” She wished me good luck in a dejected voice that was close to faltering. Surprising her, I gave her a brief hug that turned her posture rigid until she relaxed.
Delaying no more, I spread my wings and flapped them once to flip over the wall and touch down on the soil in front of the gate. Stepping over the toppled gates and the dead body of the sentry man who had greeted me earlier, I ambled through the campgrounds and past the burning wrecks of the palisades. Feeling jovial for reasons I could not explain, I began to whistle to the tune of ‘Do you believe in magic?’ as one of the stakes gave way and tumbled downwards behind me in a fiery display of destruction as I vanished into the darkness.
⁂
Sunlight that was tinted crimson streamed in through the reddish canopy of the Ironbark forest known as the Bloodgrove as a hatless Starswirl (the wizard almost wasn’t himself without it on his cranium to me) and I tracked down the maidens by using my intrinsic connection with them to scry for their general position. I had returned to the Squawking Bee after midnight to find Starswirl sound asleep in his magically sealed room after dismantling the wards and sneaking in, unable to be roused awake no matter how hard I shook him. Since I couldn’t pursue and warn the maidens without him, I had to wait and catnap until an hour before first light for him to return from dreamland. His weariness had disappeared quickly once I revealed to him that his heroines were under the direct threat of Double Cross and half of his forces in the Dreamy Vale.
We had taken spare horses to ride out and meet them using a byway that Starswirl’s path elucidating spell highlighted, allowing us to bypass Cross’s forces in the woods, but discovered no trace of them save for the bodies of dead Acolytes at the first of the chokepoints Cross had written about. We examined the scene and deduced that the heroines must have retreated into the forest for safety, with the ambushing Acolytes giving chase. The attacking party wouldn’t be foolish enough to take them on by themselves without alerting their leader first, and the horse tracks that led away from the scene to notify the rest of Cross’s cronies were evidence for that.
The tree line was too thick with foliage and brush for our horses to even entertain the thought of us urging them inside, so we had little choice but to dismount and follow the trail of crossbolts and blast marks from mages that were casting with the sole intention of killing. For a pair of Agrarians, Celeste and Selene must have been agile indeed to stave off their pursuers so well. Starswirl was beside himself with anxiety as he discerned how much danger the women central to the prophecy that was so integral to his dreams were in. He entreated me to find them by scrying for their locations, explaining that if I knew them as well as I purported, they would show on my mental radar (My words, not his).
It was fortunate that scrying spells worked on someone even if you wouldn’t technically know them until many, many years into the future. But I guess that magic was flexible like that, or Celestia and Luna hadn’t changed much personality wise in the last (or ensuing? I’m not decided on that point) millennium or so. The scrying spell that Starswirl instructed me in casting was simple but effective. I had to use my intimate connection with them to envision their presence as lights in the darkness, which manifested themselves in my mind’s eye. Metaphors were often used by Stellar Magi to make complicated spell casting a straightforward process. I sometimes deferred to this strategy myself, but mine was conducted largely by willing it and expending the mana necessary to fuel the spell. Their lights were a decent distance off from us, so we had a lot of ground to cover before we could catch up. Every so often their lights would dance from side to side or stop and engage one of the men tailing them. I urged Starswirl to pick up the pace lest I leave him in the dust, causing him to grumble about the inconsiderate rudeness of youths to the athletic shortcomings of their elders.
The lights of the maidens made their stand on flat ground of some type as they fought off their hunters. They moved with a precise coordination that I didn’t think would be possible without a psychic connection, and seemed to be holding their own against the Acolytes. The ruckus their fighting must have generated provoked something massive that lived in these woods, as their lights inexplicable went flying in opposite directions like they had been swatted by the invisible limb of a gigantic ghost. Their lights wavered in brightness, but had recovered sufficiently to engage whatever it was that was the bigger threat to them. We were close enough at this time to hear the bestial roars of not one, but what sounded like four creatures. But how could that be? The movement of the lights around the enemy indicated that the sisters were duking it out with one entity. I sped up the pace of my stride and Starswirl lagged behind in protest. The women that would become the Princesses that I held in high regard were in peril, and I wasn’t going to wait until Starswirl found his second wind. Increasing my jog into a sprint, I dashed towards the endangered lights.
I emerged into a moderately flattish clearing where the forest wasn’t as abundant, with bodies of Acolytes bestrewn in the expanse. In the center of this clearing was an assortment of blanched stone ruins that were unlike any other kind of architecture that I had seen in Precania so far. To the northeast of these ruins were overturned and uprooted trees that were knocked aside by a sizable beastie as it converged on the ruins. The four heads of this beast rose above the ruins as I spotted a figure with familiar light blue hair run along a catwalk of these crumbled ruins, she deftly avoided its snapping jaws and leapt off the catwalk to strike at the last head, which was not paying attention to its surroundings. The sword she was wielding wasn’t Blue Moon, but must have had a special enchantment on it that multiplied its sharpness, because she sliced through its neck with close to the same amount of ease had she been wielding it. The wound of the quarter decapitated Hydra spurted steaming hot blood that covered its own wound in the blackish fluid before the flesh started foaming and bubbling, the neck splitting back slightly to make room for some new additions. Two scaled skulls violently burst forth from the wound and coalesced their cranial flesh. The newly born heads bared their shiny teeth at Lun-… Selene, who stared back dispiritedly as her attack had the opposite of her intended result.
She rolled out of the way as both of those heads smashed into the ground where she was standing only scant seconds prior, the force of the shockwave sending her flying into a pillar and knocking the wind out of her, rendering her unconscious. Her bow wielding sister came into sight as she concernedly knelt by her sister’s side to check her for injuries. The Hydra that was attacking them stood to its full height of an intimidating thirty five feet, though it was just a midget in comparison to the Ursa Major I had fought a while back. Its scales were a reddish brown that blended in well with the forest around it. Its slitted eyes seemed to glow a venomous green as forked tongues slithered out of its maws, tasting the air. The creature wasn’t particularly intelligent even with the extra brains, as two of the heads were lazily waving in the air and observing the view, like they weren’t currently engaged in combat. The other three heads were focused though, and reared back to strike a devastating blow on the heroines. My wings shot out of their own accord and propelled me forward at speeds that would rival Rainbow Dash during her daily flight practice routine. Channeling extreme heat into the conductive blade of the assembled Dichotomy, I spun headfirst in midair as I spiraled head over heels towards the three heads.
The distracted two heads saw this and got the attention of their ‘brethren’ who hesitated in their attack to get a sideways look at the newcomer. This proved to be to their disadvantage, as I buzz sawed through all three of them like a hot knife through butter, cauterizing the cuts closed as a result of my superheated blade. The no longer distracted heads roared in pain since their brothers couldn’t, and glared at me. I landed in a part of the ruins that obscured me from the sight of the sisters, but was in plain view of the Hydra, which decided that they were not worthy of further interest to it as it devoted its energy to ending me instead. It trudged towards me with stomping steps that caused the dust covering the ruins to shift and suffuse into the air. Knowing that fighting this thing on ground level was unwise, I flapped my wings again to gain some altitude. The Hydra did not give me the luxury of a breather, as its two heads snapped towards me with alarming speed, forcing me to dodge and weave with aerial maneuvers that I hadn’t got much practice in with all of my time spent toiling on the ground. One of the heads was so close to nailing me that the after wash from its attack was enough to throw me off course, and I skidded into the floor of the ruins with a skipping roll, letting out an indignant ‘oomph!’ with each bounce.
The Hydra had to take a few seconds to reorient its bulk in my direction as its powerful tail knocked over some more ruins. One of the Acolytes who was still alive launched a crossbolt round from a catwalk that pierced one of its eyes, stunning it momentarily before an uninjured head gobbled him up with an expeditious chomp of its jaws. I didn’t mourn the fellow’s demise, but at least his last act in life bought me the time to get to my feet and leap out of the way of its stomping foot, which crashed into the stone floor with great force. My wings were engaged, so the shockwave couldn’t destabilize me as I swooped through some columns and spiraled above the Hydra to begin hacking away at the remaining heads, which I believed would be enough to kill it. Two swooping slashes with a super heated Dichotomy later and those heads were resting on the ruin floors. The main body of the Hydra took a few confused, directionless steps and gave off the impression that it was going to keel over. To my dismay, this did not occur. The body began to shed off the necks of the severed heads until only the base of the torso was showing. From this writhing form of flesh sprouted four new heads, and the cycle had started anew.
‘Shit! How am I supposed to kill this thing!?’ I thought, daunted by the resilience of this beast. It was then that I was struck by an idea that was so crazy that it might work… or it might kill me.
I ascended to the peak of a tall pillar and presented myself to the creature, “Hey ugly! You want a piece of this? Come get some!” I taunted it, purposefully pissing it off (Which implied that this thing was partially sentient).
The heads hissed menacingly and lumbered over to me, the middlemost head on the right being particularly angry. I cast a spell over myself that would shield me against what I could expect in the next few seconds if I timed this right. The maw of the angriest head opened wide as it prepared to bite down on me. Anticipating its lunge, I rocketed into its mouth before it snapped shut and down its slimy gullet. The neck of the head recoiled in what must have been shock and made the slide downwards curvy. I’ll spare you the details concerning the guts of a Hydra. All you need to know it that it is not a pleasant place… and has an appallingly terrible stench. I didn’t allow the beast to swallow me without difficulty though, and my blade lacerated its throat like I was a jagged Dorito. I was eventually chambered into its stomach in complete darkness, splashing into its digestive fluids, which would have started dissolving me had I not cast a selectively permeable membrane spell over my flesh to ward off caustic damage.
With the Hydra unable to do anything against me now that I was inside of its own body, I hovered in place and went crazy with a disassembled Dichotomy, whose flames illuminated my foul environment. I swirled the shards around me in a tornado of metal that augmented its radius and perforated and gashed the stomach of the beast, releasing its caustic fluids into its unprotected organs, which were also fair game for my Mage-blade. The muted, agonized roaring of the beast indicated that I was on the right track, and I continued this until the beast had fallen over and the rumbling pulse of its heart gradually ceased beating. Not satisfied, I ensured that it was dead by eviscerating its insides, completely destroying each organ that was still intact. Given how it made no noise in response, it was safe for me assume that the beast was finally dead.
Wanting out of this disgusting creature, I brandished an assembled Dichotomy and effortlessly pierced the stomach lining and scales of the Hydra, cutting upwards until I had a slit wide enough for me to exit the tour of its bowels. Some of its bodily fluids had lingered on my shoulder and I casually brushed them off in front of an awe struck, winded Starswirl, who had arrived late to the party.
“Cut off the head of a Hydra and two more will simply take its place” I quoted to the wizard with the dropped jaw as I stepped into the opening, “But rip through its guts and it’s up a creek with no paddle… and there’s a waterfall with sharp rocks at the end of that creek” I amended with a grin.
Starswirl opened his mouth to reply, but closed it and thought better of it, “Come… the heroines are still out of reach” He bid me to follow him.
“What?” I was confused, “But they were just here! I saw them fight the Hydra!” I motioned behind me with a thumb.
“Were they?” He questioned, “When I came here, there was no one else besides you in the belly of that beast” He reported to me, “It’s definitely the first time I’ve seen a beast make such an expression of indigestion”
I used my scrying spell to detect them and was dumbfounded when they were elsewhere… in a place that was both close by and extremely faraway at the same time. I showed Starswirl where I had seen them before tussling with the Hydra and he examined the scene with some kind of spell that retraced their steps after I had intervened. Hologram like projections of the Princesses appeared in their place and reenacted their actions leading up to their sudden relocation. It was odd to see the Princesses not in their usual outfits, instead donning a standard adventurer’s tunic like garb that incorporated pieces of armor for protection. Celestia (or Celeste) had frantically urged her sister to regain consciousness and for them to flee from the site while the Hydra was preoccupied.
The sister was acting strangely after she awoke though, and pointed a phenomenon out to her sister that they both examined. The thing in question was a faded mural that depicted the actions of two characters who looked remarkably like the two heroines. It was eerie, but the second to last scene was of them climbing to the summit of a spire, and the scene after that was where they were bathed in a stream of light from the Heavens. Luna (or Selene) noticed something known only to her again and tapped her sister on the shoulder to point again towards an unassuming space between two columns that were unaffected by the ravages of time, unlike every other structure in these ruins. Celeste didn’t understand her meaning until Selene passed through the columns and her form dematerialized. The simulacrum of Celeste gasped and rushed into the space after her sister, disappearing along with her. The spell faded out from there.
“It cannot be…” Starswirl muttered, “…that spire matches the description of the Apex of Apotheosis. The stream of light from the Heavens only corroborates this”
“The what?” I blurted, not comprehending what any of this meant.
“Every child hears stories about the heroic actions of heroes from times long since passed. Some bedtime stories speak of a place where the greatest of heroes are fated to go and become like the stars themselves, solidifying their legacy forevermore in the sky. It was called the Apex of Apotheosis, where a gate leading to the Heavens themselves existed” He explained to me in voice that suggested that even he didn’t quite believe what he was saying, “But I deemed them to be only stories! How can this possibly be true?” He was utterly dumbfounded by the implications of this finding.
I stifled a chuckle, “Of all the things you must’ve seen in your years on this Earth, the idea of a gateway that allows heroes to ascend into the very firmament and be permanently memorialized is too much for you?”
His forehead creased at me, “Of course not! I know there might exist such places in the world where the carapace of magic separating divergent planes of reality is especially thin. They’re only spoken about amongst an esoteric few back in Stellaria’s mage guilds, and even they pass them off as myths from an older time” He brought a hand to his head and rubbed at his exposed hair, “To think that they might really exist…”
I was about to speak, but the sounds of men in armor marching right at the edge of my hearing alerted me that Cross’s army was concentering itself on this position. I don’t know how they found us, but Starswirl’s expression turned sour, and he began walking towards where the heroines disappeared. He experimentally tested the portal by pushing his hand into it, where it caused something to ripple as his hand materialized on the other side.
He looked back at me, noticing that I refused to budge, “Are you coming? I doubt Cross’s men will take kindly to our constant interfering, and even less so to yours, if your story about annihilating their fortress was accurate”
I shifted uncomfortably in place, “I… ermm… I don’t trust portals much these days” I demurred, irrationally fearing another Crystal City Incident.
Starswirl shrugged, “Suit yourself” And without another word, crossed the threshold of the portal, his form vanishing from view entirely.
The sounds of metal encased feet tramping on grass steadily grew louder, “Damn it old man…” I grumbled, before taking the metaphorical plunge into the unknown myself.
Unlike the first instance of stepping into a portal, this one didn’t suck me into a colorful and yet colorless abyss where illogical things assaulted your mind if you weren’t careful. Instead it was like stepping through a screen door from one backyard into another. Laid in front of me was another forest of trees that were nothing special in comparison to the red leaved ironbarks, but gave off an incredibly peaceful vibe. Behind me was a stone hill, with an archway carved from the stone itself. The pathway ahead was trimmed with a silvery light that undulated invitingly, as if it wanted us to follow down it. My mental radar blipped again with the presence of the heroines. They weren’t far off, but their pace was brisk. Starswirl was waiting for me to the side with a pleased upward curl to his lips.
He tapped his staff against the ground once, “You got over your fear of portals quickly, Zenith” He teased me as he spun around and started down the illuminated pathway, “Come… destiny awaits us” He announced.
“I’m always wary whenever someone brings up that word. It never seems to contain any positive connotations for me” I bitterly muttered to myself low enough that the wizard couldn’t pick up on it.
We jogged down the path and into the depths of this new forest. Starswirl tried using his one of his locater spells, only for it to spark and fail. He explained that this meant that wherever we were now, it had to have been an island or landmass of some kind that was cut off from Precania. Wanting to get a better idea of where we were to confirm this hypothesis, he bid me to get a view from above. I obliged him, if only because I wanted to see for myself if we were where I suspected we were. I shot out of the canopy and observed our heavily forested surroundings, and I sighed expectantly as I descried a humongous white and black rocky spire that extended into the air by several hundred feet. I alighted and reported my findings to the wizard, who mumbled his lingering disbelief that the Apex of Apotheosis was real.
Nothing of interest happened as we treaded down the path, which was a welcome relief. However, a suspicious glance behind me coupled with a narrowing of my keen eyes validated my gut feeling that we weren’t out of the woods yet. Cross and his Acolytes had inevitably discovered the means by which we had eluded them and were still in pursuit. I notified Starswirl to this and he uttered a curse at the persistence of his former student, before giving all he had into a sprint that would have been impressive, if this were a turkey trot. I sighed and scooped him up in my arms, ferrying him to our destination and increasing the extent of our head start on the Acolytes. The heroines had reached the spire by now and were climbing up its helical path. Before we could do the same, we had to cross a gaping chasm that made the one under the mountains look like a kiddie ride if they were next to each other. There was a stone bridge that was closer to the one that might find in Moria, only wider and far lengthier. Getting tired of heaving the wizard like cargo, I dropped him halfway over the bridge and made him work his legs for the remainder of the way.
Even after I did most of the work, Starswirl was running low on breath from all of the hurrying he had to do in such a transient period. He made it to the other end, but was forced to gather his breath before he could go any further. I was tempted to leave him behind and see the heroines by myself, but that would be in poor taste, doubly so after all of the events we had seen through to the end together. That didn’t mean his agedness slowing him down didn’t agitate the hell out of me though. On the other side, the leftover Acolytes had begun amassing their forces on the opposing side of the gap. There were easily over a hundred of them, and there were more manifesting from the woods behind them with every passing minute. I couldn’t make out any one person who was leading them, but knew that he couldn’t have been far behind his pawns.
I turned to the wizard, who had convalesced enough to sternly glare at our enemy, “Remember what I told you about on the road? About that other wizard’s famous quote about bridges and passing them? I want you to share it with them” I pointed across the gorge to our pursuers.
He looked at me funny, “Why would you have me declare my intent to delay them? I’m certain they know as much”
“Just say it. Trust me, you’ll feel very much empowered” I encouraged him. And if he wasn’t, then at least I’d get my referential entertainment.
He griped about something under his breath before complying, “You cannot pass!” He declared, and created a burst of light from his staff to dazzle them.
The dreaded disciples of Discord stood still on the other end of the bottomless gorge, and a dread silence fell over the pass. “I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. Dark magic will not avail you, flames of chaos! Go back to the Shadow! YOU… SHALL NOT… PASS!” He struck his staff upon the ground with great force, sending a wave of faint vibrations in all directions. My inner fan boy gave him two thumbs up for his masterful imitation of Gandalf and improvised altering of some lines, but had to subtract points of the missing hat. It just wasn’t the same without it.
At first nothing happened, and the men at the other side seemed to snort to themselves in minor amusement before advancing menacingly across the sizable gap with their armaments brandished and ready for usage. Starswirl’s magic was beginning to seem impotent when the Earthen bridge let out a great rumble in protest before giving and cracking apart in large chunks before altogether disintegrating, taking a notable chunk of the enemy down with it. The men stranded on the other side cursed and shouted in fury, but Starswirl and I were already ascending up the steep path of the pseudo cliffside.
I peered over the jagged edge as we climbed, “Those fools should’ve flown. Too bad the Acolytes couldn’t recruit from the Valkyrians, otherwise we’d be in trouble” Almost immediately after I said that, I saw the Mages in their ranks beginning to ferry their grounded brethren one at a time across the gap with their concentrated magic, some of them having to strip their armor off to ease their burden before making the crossing.
“We have merely delayed our enemy. We must be swift… this journey isn’t over yet” The wizard replied sagaciously, not looking back and focusing himself on the task ahead, “Though I did indeed feel empowered by that display. Thank you, my friend” He acknowledged my advice with a nod. Bully for him.
We had advanced halfway up the two toned spire when the telltale signs of armed men not far to our rear and catching up prompted me to use the widened pathway at this point to bottleneck and funnel my enemies into coming at me one at a time, which meant I couldn’t take down more of their number without risking my own health much. Without announcing my intent, I drew Dichotomy out and faced in the direction that my enemies would come from. I still had enough magic to channel some seriously dangerous spells of destruction that I was eager to give a live fire test to.
Starswirl noticed that my footfalls were not accompanying his, “Zenith? Why are you stopping? We’re so close!”
“Your chance to deny them passage has come and gone, Starswirl. It’s my turn to give it a go” I retorted with a grin, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t do insurmountable last stands. Say hello to the maidens for me”
He looked conflicted, before realizing that there was nothing he could do to dissuade me, “You can tell them yourself” He responded, clasping my shoulder, “See you at the top” He twisted around and began running, inspired by my resolve.
With one less person for me to worry about, I broke Dichotomy into its separate halves, which I gave aspectual names to. Nirvana for the white blade in my left hand, and Oblivion for the black blade in my right. Augmenting this disparity some more, I channeled fire into Oblivion and ice into Nirvana. Tactically, only the fire would super effective against my fleshy enemies, though if they were still wearing armor or were carrying shields, my ice blade would weaken their defensive tools and make them vulnerable to shattering. The first wave of men turned the corner with their weapons at the ready, they saw me standing there with a tranquil expression on my face and charged forwards. I deflected the sword of the first man to reach me with Nirvana and lacerated his unprotected chest with Oblivion. The second was parried with Oblivion, followed up by me pivoting around him and skewering him through the back with Nirvana. The third man locked his axe with me in a clash of weapons that was broken when I back flipped, kicked him in the jaw, and spilled his guts with a scissoring swipe of both blades. I ducked and weaved around the attacks from a stream of men pouring around the corner, slashing wherever my blades could bite into flesh and felling many men. I let that combat trance overtake me and became one with the fight, controlling the flow of battle with precision and skill that was reserved for those with absolute resolution in their hearts.
Five minutes and dozens upon dozens of corpses stacked on top of each other later, I called upon my magic to decimate the rest of the first wave’s forces by utilizing ‘a minor disintegration’ spell that Luna once bedazzled me with. A beam of bright red concentrated energy issued forth from my clenched hands and vaporized any Acolyte unlucky enough to be caught in the blast. The results of such concentrated magical power were startling, the forms of the men it annihilated became black lines that were erased as if I had taken an eraser to them. The beam struck the wall of the spire and dislodged some of the rock composing it, engendering it to fall upon the pathway and obstruct it. I blinked as my spell (and the majority of my mana) faded out. This unintentional benefit should delay the Acolytes near indefinitely, since their mages were unable to cross the gap, and it would take more men than the Acolytes likely had left to remove the rocks in the way. Taking a moment to inhale and exhale, I combined my blades and sheathed them in my robe tassels; feeling satisfied with the number of chaos worshipping madmen I had personally put an end to.
My timing was auspicious, as the heroines had done something at the top that had caused the skies to gain ribbons of aurora that beamed overhead in a magnificent array of colors. I used my wings to fly to the top of the spire, which granted me a breathtaking view. The Sun and the Moon stood on opposite ends of the sky, leaving a patch of twilight in the middle of it in which the stars could visually be seen. Starswirl was standing behind that archway which I knew was the Heavensgate and gazing awestruck at the heroines suspended within. Their eyes were shut and their arms outstretched in a pose reminiscent of the one that Celestia had shown me when she gave me a private viewing of her sun raising magic. Their faces hadn’t aged a day, their beauty having been preserved with their transfiguration. Speaking of which, their bodies began to morph into those matching the ones that I knew from the future. Celeste’s pink hair became the multi chromatic, billowing mass that blew in a seemingly invisible breeze. She was immersed in a golden light like sunshine. Selene’s hair shifted, darkened and became star like. Her aura took on a milky whiteness that a well lit night was known for. The Sun and the Moon observed their changes like it was a rite of ascension before the latter of which sank beneath the horizon and the Sun dominated the sky again.
I imagined that the Stellar Magi in their Kingdom were freaking out about how the thing they were all about manipulating was momentarily beyond their control. The lights surrounding the floating heroines diminished after a time and the newly born Trifects gently descended to the ground, slumping slightly against the stone floor ahead of the Heavensgate like they were only half awake.
“Huh… I never got treated to a light show like that” I pettily groused, mildly jealous of the Princess’s imbued radiance.
“Zenith!?” Starswirl balked at my appearance, which he had failed to notice with his jaw scraping the floor, “You’re here!” He embraced me with a jolly laugh.
I awkwardly hugged him back, “I’m like a bad case of a song stuck in your head. I always come back to haunt you” I joked.
“Urrgh…” Were Selen-… Luna’s elegant first words as a Trifect, “Sister, didst thou behold what I did?” She asked of her elder sibling.
Celestia groaned and tried to sit up as she ran a hand through her flowing hair, “I did, dearest sister. It wouldst appear that we art meant for greater deeds, beyond the borders of the Dreamy Vale we hast called home for much of our lives. We art charged with unifying the clans in the name of Harmony. We were told that the wizard would clarify things in time, once we have achieved mastery of our bestowed might”
“That is not something myself or my master can allow” A foreign voice interrupted from behind us, and an aura of darkness befell the air were the Princesses were sitting. Being physically enfeebled from their ascension process, they were unable to resist as they were encapsulated and held in place, obscuring them from view.
Starswirl spun in place, recognizing that voice, “Cross… let go of them! You know not what you are interfering in!” He warned him, his staff glowing as he prepared for a fight.
I got a good look at this Double Cross character, who wore a pleased smile on his face, like everything was going according to his plan. He was a spindly fellow dressed all in black robes, like he was either hardcore gothic or just a fan of the necromancer’s plain, yet simple fashion statement. His hood was drawn over his head, which obscured the hole that was reputed to be in his forehead. His golden, half lidded eyes scrutinized us equally and locked with mine. I wasn’t wrong about him from reading his journals. There was an intense wrongness in his stare that would unsettle the uninitiated, and made me narrow my eyes. He held out one of his hands, which was pulsing with a bizarre aura that absorbed all light shone on it like a living shadow. He was flanked by his dozens of his bodyguard, all of whom were winded from removing the obstruction that was supposed to delay them for much longer and getting the drop on us.
“Now why would I do that, my old mentor?” Cross calmly replied to the wizard, “I need them to become more than you could ever evolve into in ten of your lifetimes!” His grin was sickly, and I had to resist charging at him and cutting him in half right now.
“I don’t seek to better only myself!” Starswirl retorted, “I seek to better the world!”
“Ugh… that breed of selfless, self righteous idealism always grated on my ears” Cross made a disgusted face, “Don’t you know that the only cause worth pursuing is self betterment?”
“Not at the cost of other people’s lives!” Starswirl roared, “What could possess you to murder your own family? Was it all for the sake of power?” He demanded to know, his voice becoming emotionally tense.
Cross shrugged, “Not just power… but also to prove that I could. That nothing would hold me back from becoming all powerful… not even my own kin. All of my life I’ve been expected to follow someone else’s lead… to serve them. My father, my firstborn brother, my mentor in magic” He stared hard at the wizard, “You were a first born weren’t you? How could you give up all that prestige simply to preach about morals and ideals regarding the other clans that no one besides you cared about? You even let yourself be exiled from Starwick without so much as a fuss!”
“I left without a fuss because there was a better path for waiting me among the other clans. I saw that they were worth being considered our brothers and sisters… for we are one people” Starswirl answered, his hard expression softening a tad.
“You wasted your inheritance, is more like it” He spat, “Instead of using it to enhance yourself and promote your agenda that way. I frown upon such weakness, and I refuse to let any opportunities for power to slip from my finger” He made a motion with his finger and the overshadowed forms of the Princesses began writhing in pain as their respective light seeped from their forms and flowed into Double Cross, who smiled in ecstasy at the power they had for him to consume.
I saw this and became enraged, “Release them this instant, you filth! Lest I turn you into bloody ribbons!” I demanded, holding Dichotomy out and at the ready.
Double Cross appraised me, not even blinking at my very real threat, “Ah yes, the wizard’s enigmatic companion. You’re powerful… it’s clear to anyone with eyes to see the carnage you left behind” Cross complimented me without any sincerity, “Had I not the means to counter this, I would tremble at your apparent might”
He passed by one of his followers and withdrew a razor sharp knife from a sheath in his chest, patting him on the cheek in an almost fatherly manner as he did so. Quick as a wink, he slashed the knife across his throat, opening a slit from which blood spewed forth as the shocked man gurgled and fell to his knees, dumbstruck by his Herald’s actions. Cross incanted something in a tongue I couldn’t make out as the blood from the dying man began to effervesce and rise in strings of crimson haze, all of which began flowing into Cross and feeding him power.
His other followers looked at him in a mix of surprise, fear, and anger as their master showed them how much he valued their lives in the long run. One of them actually drew his dagger and made to throw it at him when Cross lazily lifted his hand and twisted it. All of his men fell to the floor screaming bloody murder as clouds of blackness enveloped them. Jet black auras that seemed to devour the surrounding light began gradually squeezing them like an Anaconda as the pressure became too much and started snapping bones, crushing organs, and generally resulting in painful deaths. I wasn’t sorry in the least to see them go, but I wondered at just how self destructive evil truly was, and how heartless Cross had to be if he could sacrifice his own men like they meant less than nothing to him.
The aforementioned man actually spoke as he extinguished the lives of his own men, their red hazes being devoured into his body, “You want to know something funny about all this time spent pretending to be some Herald of Chaos? It’s not actually a lie!” He laughed cruelly, “I’ve been touting Discord’s name for so long that my master has informed me that he’ll be making a grand appearance here himself in not even a year! You’ll get to see your precious dream of unity be achieved Starswirl! But it won’t be under the banner of your pathetic Harmony!” He found the situation so incredibly funny as the last streams were sucked into his body.
The wizard was aghast, “You monster!” Starswirl proclaimed the obvious, “Why did I ever agree with the council’s decision to let you be set free? You should have been put down like the mad dog that you are!” He cast a powerful ball of magical energy at Cross, who nonchalantly held up a hand to absorb the energy of the blast and contained it in his palm. I’d never witnessed this kind of magical abnegating power before, and I didn’t like the idea of this man having it. It couldn’t have been magic based, since Cross was crippled in that aspect. And even so, that would be like loading a fire extinguisher with fire and expecting it to douse flames.
Cross yawned in boredom, “You’re right, as always Starswirl… but you didn’t. Now I am the master… and you are the slave” He made an ugly symbol with his hands and Starswirl was swept off his feet with an invisible energy. Cross chanted again and Starswirl began to holler in intense agony, his magic being pried from his body in a string of navy blue.
I was about to move myself when I found that my feet were glued in place, “Uh uh uh!” Cross scolded me, “It’s not fair for you to have that marvelous sword of yours while I have nothing of my own, so I’ll just end this match before it begins”
He clenched a fist and my world became pure pain. It felt like every fiber of my body had been set alight before being ripped in twain. I imagined that even self immolation wouldn’t entail pain this exquisite in its scope as I wailed like a siren. I collapsed to my knees and lost my grip on my sword, with it clattering to the floor uselessly. Cross ambled over and picked up my weapon, though he dropped it with a hiss, like it was poisoned. He remarked to himself how odd that was as he turned his back to me, but the taste of my magic was enough to sate himself. Even anguished as I was, my mind tried working out how I’d get out of this mess… and dishearteningly came up with zilch. I couldn’t do anything with every pain receptor in my body going off like I had won the grand prize lotto in suffering.
Then inexplicably… the pain ceased, and left my body free to move again. I spared a glance to the side and saw that Starswirl and the Princesses were still very much overcome with agony, and their screams masked the fact that I had stopped yowling myself. I tried to reach out to my magic… only to discover that it was gone. I tried to summon my wings… only to get the same result. Even my usual strength seemed to have left me. Cross’s power had denuded me of all my magic… reducing me to the normality I had before waking up in the Krystal Kingdom.
This made me understandably furious.
Fighting to get to my feet and shaking off the lightheadedness that being immediately deprived of my magic afflicted me with. I unsheathed my Tantō and approached the distracted Double Cross… who was busy talking to himself as he plotted what he was going to do with so much raw mana. There was no hesitation in my movements as I seized Cross, folded my left arm around his neck to keep him from pulling away and perforating his backside with the blade. He shrieked in pain as my blade entered and exited his body multiple times. I brutalized him… and when my arms barely had the strength to hold onto the weapon anymore, he was bleeding out on the floor of the platform from countless stab holes, his blood staining the immaculate stone. My vicious attack had disrupted whatever process he was enacting to drain Starswirl and the Princesses of their magic, and they stopped screaming their lungs out, the forms of the women going limp on the floor as they fainted. I stood wobbling from side to side as I fought to remain standing.
Remembering an important item in my inventory, I reached into my belt space to extract those vials of magic restoring mushroom juice that Vitalitus had bid me to take on my journey. He was wiser than he looked if he somehow foresaw a scenario like this transpiring. I popped the cork to one and downed the gnarly fluid, grimacing at the taste and wishing that one of my mother’s green shakes had been substituted instead. And I hated the liquefied salad drinks that my mom forced on me. The effects of the potion took a minute to take effect, but when they did it was like stepping in from a blizzard into a warm shower. Energy flooded back into me and revitalized my movements. I looked to the side and smiled when I saw that my wings weren’t as clipped as I feared they might have been. I rushed over to Starswirl’s side and poured the vial down his throat, and he sputtered and coughed at the flavor before he too relaxed and was made whole again.
“Zenith?” He was perplexed, “What happened? All I can remember is attempting to stop Cross before everything went hazy with torment” He smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “And what was that atrocious drink!? Cat piss would have been more refreshing!”
“He was leeching you of your magic, Starswirl. He was doing the same to the heroines and even myself. I lost my magic… but I was no longer being restrained by his powers. So I introduced a few additional breathing holes in his back” I elucidated, “And that cat piss is the reason you don’t feel like complete shit… be grateful” I chided him.
Starswirl got his feet and gripped his staff and sword in his hands, “Cross!” He spouted in indignation, striding towards him with what I hoped was lethal intent, “Return the magic you stole from the heroines! It is not yours to abuse!”
The man was regrettably still alive, and was attempting to crawl away like the worm he was, “I’ve drained enough that they’re in critical condition without it. If I go, they’ll die with me! If you let me live, they’ll die! You’ve failed wizard… the prophecy is undone” The broken man hoarsely spat with the utmost hatred as he tried to squirm away from the vengeful man.
“You did not kill me, and you will not kill them!” Starswirl pushed his staff forward, forcing Cross back into the stone, “You’ve disgraced every moral value I’ve taught you!” Starswirl reprimanded him harshly, slamming his head into the earth with a flick of his staff, “You’ve murdered innumerable innocents, slain your own men for the sake of power, and threatened to undo everything I’ve believed in!”
The wizard unexpectedly let up in his tirade, sighing in disappointment, “What happened to you, Cross? What happened to the eager student who was proud to serve his family’s house? Who always kept his fellow student’s spirits high right before I gave you all the most grueling exams in your lives? You’re less than a shadow of what that charming young man once was”
Cross chuckled mirthlessly, “I was shown… another path… in a vision. One whose allure was just too tempting to pass up on. One where I could surpass my insignificant goals of being the head of my house and become head of the world… if I could harness the magic in their blood…” He tried twisting his neck towards where the Sisters were still recovering from magical deprivation, “…I could become a God!”
Starswirl grunted in abhorrence and none too gently struck him on the forehead with the butt end of his staff. It wasn’t enough to put him under, but that did not seem to be his intent. He turned to me, that same look in his eye that I saw when we first came upon the slaughtered village of Duskdale and when we departed, “I’m suspending what I told you before. Do with him as you will. He deserves it” He said as he passed by me to tend to the sisters. A smile came to my face unbidden, and I grinned toothily at the wretched man with aspirations denied to mortals, who glared at me in turn.
“How were you strong enough to thwart me without your magic?” He wanted to know, before he met his end, “The shock from magical deprivation alone is enough to incapacitate most men for days afterwards! I would know! I couldn’t even take a piss without someone holding my schlong out for me!”
“It’s a sensation that I’ve lived with for over twenty years” I answered in an emotionless tone, “I’m not suddenly going to be debilitated by it when there’s someone in need of a hearty dose of stabbing” He gawked at my explanation, not understanding what it meant.
He then bared his teeth at me in a sneer, “Do to me as you will. It won’t save them. You’ve wasted your time for nothing”
I held up the vials of supercharged magic in a glass for him to see, “These phials are contrary to that opinion, Cross. Chew on that as you lie there bleeding” I rubbed it in his face… well, not literally. He might do something like bite the phials or otherwise spill their contents. I whistled to Starswirl and tossed them to him, which he caught with his magic and began nursing the unconscious Princesses to health with them. They stirred as the fluid began to take effect.
Cross grew nervous as his plans were being foiled right in front of him, “It doesn’t have to be this way… Zenith” He had overheard my name, “I could make you even more powerful than you can possibly imagine… if you but join me and turn on this filth that you keep company. I can see that you’re rewarded copiously by my master!”
“You have the gall to beg mercy of me? After slaughtering whole villages in accordance to your unholy, heathen doctrine!? I ought to crucify you!” I glowered heatedly at the merciless man, “But Death is too good for you” I seethed, “And you’ve a significant blood debt to pay” I bit down on the skin of my thumb to draw the blood necessary for what I was about to do to this man, “I bite my thumb at you, foul villain” I stated in a sarcastically mocking, Shakespearean tone. I brought him closer to me and seized him by his face, removing his hood, “Suffer me now!” Intrinsically knowing how to punish this man, I took my bloody thumb and traced a circle with eight perpendicular lines on his forehead and around the pit where his Focal Gem once was. I then brought forth all of my magic and focused it on the uneven, circular rune that proceeded to burn itself into Cross’s forehead like acid, causing him to grunt in pain.
That was but a taste of what he had in store for him. It was about to get much, much worse. Somewhere within the depths of my mind, I recalled a poem that the glowing inscription seared into his flesh reminded me of. Speaking with a voice that rumbled with power, I recited it in black speech.
Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,
ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul.
I dictated the terms of his ‘redemption’ in the same voice that overflowed with righteous anger, drowning out the grating sound of his animalistic screaming, “Your life is forfeit, Cross. But until the time comes when you’ve atoned for your grievous sins, one way or another… you will know nothing but the very agony you’ve sown. Nothing will be able to relieve your torment. No magic, no rituals, not even death will lay a finger on you so long as the mark upon your forehead burns bright and the debt remains unpaid. And should you so much as think of seeking revenge, it will be as if your very soul was split in twain. You’re damned, Cross, and that mark upon your forehead is so you’ll remember it”
Testing the power of the malediction myself, I lifted him with my magic and slammed him a half dozen times into the platform by his neck. The curse held up and though his neck was snapped, he was refused the sweet release of death. The mark on his forehead was so luminous that he could use it as a flashlight in the dark. Without a second thought for his safety, I tossed him over the side of the spire with a mighty heave of magic, catapulting him out of our mutual lives to live out the rest of his undeath in atonement for what he had done, if he knew what was good for him. I picked up my Mage-blade and hefted it in my hands. Cross had been repulsed by the innate connection that the weapon and I shared. Dichotomy was an extension of myself, and I would be damned before I allowed someone else to steal that from me.
Starswirl hadn’t even noticed what I’d done to his former student, nor do I think he cared. He held Luna in his arms and stroked at her forehead as he waited for her to awake. I crouched down beside Celestia and also held her in my arms, crooning softly, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine~” And caressing her cheek. All of this time spent away from the people I cared about made me feel sappier than was typical. I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder.
Starswirl spoke, his voice strained, “Cross mentioned that Discord would arrive in less than a year… to unite the clans under chaos. Were you lying about that to me, Zenith? Has my quest been for naught?”
“I wasn’t lying when I disclosed to you that these two women would achieve your dream of unity, Starswirl… but it will not be an easy road to get there. Frost will come first… and then… there will be only chaos” I simplified history for the dispirited wizard.
“So much adversity” Starswirl lamented, “Can they prevail against it? I don’t want to be the one to lead these fair women astray to their doom”
“Have faith that things will work out, Starswirl” I looked down to the woman I held, “And have faith in them”
A thrumming in the atmosphere grabbed our attention as I glanced behind me to the Heavensgate. The vacuity inside the arch began to warp and distort, before an ovular shape ignited inside it and invitingly pulsed with power. I don’t know why, but I was compelled to let go of the Princess in my arms and inch closer to the portal that was more than a portal. I heard Starswirl vocalize what could have been a warning, but I had gravitated into the gateway before he could finish verbalizing. My vision was overwhelmed with whiteness and my ears droned with a ringing tone like I had a severe case of tinnitus.
I was in space… I think. Nebula like gases surrounded me as I hovered in a void illuminated by the light of the stars. I glanced behind me to see that the portal back had vanished, so I was stuck here until further notice. That was just wonderful. I was somehow corporeal and yet ethereal all the same. A nagging feeling in my gut told me that this place was familiar, and it was only after I had bashed my head against my fist that I recalled where I had seen it before. I also remembered what events occurred in that memory.
“I swear to the Lord Almighty, if someone starts singing to me, I am going to rage quit my life” I mumbled to no one in particular.
“My, my, this one certainly retains an unorthodox sense of humor” One of the dots in the left of vision flashed as a voice quipped.
“Who’s there? Where am I?” I spoke up, instantly on my guard.
“The answers to both questions are interrelated, which would you like to hear first?” The same voice retorted in an aggravatingly cocksure tone.
“In order, please” I sniped back, not in the mood for this.
“We are the Constellar Congress, and this is our realm, where we convene” Came dozens of voices from all around me, causing me to stiffen and look around at the multiple blinking pinpricks of light.
“Great” I groused to myself, “There are more of you”
“Never you mind Dawn Seeker. He can still be quite abrasive to visitors, being one of the younger members of our esteemed cadre” Came a refined womanly voice somewhere above me.
“Quit lordin’ your age over me, Aurora” Dawn Seeker countered, “He was making it too easy for me not to get some jabs in”
“He is our guest, Dawn. Not your plaything” She gently reprimanded him.
I scowled as I came to a crazy conclusion, “Wait, are you… people? Because there’s no way I can be talking to the Stars themselves right now”
“We were. In life, we were great champions of goodness and Harmony the world over. The stories that most history records regrettably relegate to the children’s books. After passing on, or passing into the Heavensgate, we were given the choice of whether or not we wished to continue our vigil over the lands of our birth” Aurora answered, “As you can see, all of us present chose just that. And now we have taken our place amongst the Stars, watching over the Earth below. Fitting, don’t you agree?”
“Are ya shure we shud be layin' all of this on the wee laddie? Woodn’t want a repeat a’ve the las’ time now wood we?” Said a heavily accented voice to my rig-. You know what, I’m tired of saying where they are when the place I’m in is metaphysical in nature.
“He’s certainly taking it better than our last two visitors, Armstrong. Perhaps you stoic types can handle your astonishment with more grace” A gentlemanly chap acknowledged.
I shook my head, “This is hardly the strangest thing I’ve borne witness to” I challenged.
“Oh? It’s not often that we hear such a claim, made in our own midst no less! Pray tell… just what takes precedence over this?” He asked, somehow indicating to me the ethereal realm I now stood in.
I scratched at my chin with an index finger, “Well there was that one time that Pinkie showed me what was beyon-”
“Say no more!” He expressed with a tone that clearly meant he caught on, “That woman is one of the most confounding anomalies we’ve ever had the oddest pleasure of interacting with. But she has Happiness and Harmony in her heart, and lots of it. She will be a light in the dark, when most other lights go out” He prophesied in a strange tone.
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and presume that you are the mysterious entities responsible for bringing me into Arcania, yes?” I deduced.
“Correct” The responded in unison.
“Do you people have any idea how much I miss my home?” I weakly let out, “I miss the feeling of the ocean breeze rustling through my hair, the smell of sea-spray in the air, the sound of the waves crashing against the sandbar. It wasn’t perfect, but that was home for me. That was my life” I recounted to them, my voice clogged with rare, unsuppressed emotion.
“A life which you yourself believed was lackluster, in spite of those cherished memories” One of their number stated without any hint of condescension. Regardless, I could feel my blood boil as my incipient anger built up.
I was too angry to care about the truthfulness of that point, “IT WAS STILL MY LIFE!” I roared into starry abyss, my voice echoing despite there being no solid surfaces for the metaphysical sound to bounce off of, “What right did you have to pluck me from my home, my family, my planet!” I seethed, emotions that I had repressed seeping into every word with vigor.
“Our directive” They answered in unison once more, each voice distinct and yet blending together simultaneously in a vocalized example of harmony.
“We are charged by the highest power with maintaining the balance of the world you now inhabit” Said one member.
“To prevent the forces of evil from tilting the scale and disrupting the equilibrium that keeps Harmony in effect” Stated another.
“And that gives you the authority to pluck a person from their bed so they can carry out this purpose for you?” I questioned bitterly.
“Yes… though only in excruciatingly dire circumstances” Dawn filled me in, taking this seriously, “We don’t make it a habit of recruiting potential heroes from beyond the cosmic veil of this realm, exorbitant travel expenses you know?” He went right back to being jocose, lightening the mood despite my efforts to remain sour.
“We’ve seen the turmoil raging on in your heart, exacerbated by the possibility of ever finding a way of going home. This fixated yearning is keeping you from acting as a whole. There can be no room for tergiversation or vacillation in the days ahead. Our Champion must have a clear head on his shoulders, for his task is both arduous and treacherous in its enormity” They hit the nail on the head as one.
“So… we present to you a choice, like the kind you’ve resented us for not giving you. We can amass our power to send you home, or we can send you back to the present time. But know that choosing one, will forever doom the other” An elder’s voice stipulated.
“Why would you even send me through the portal to Crystal City? What was the purpose of that?” I asked them.
“We know not of this Crystal City you refer to, though perhaps the magic governing the portal decided that you would be of some use there somehow?” An intellectual sounding voice postulated, “Usually your path would be diverted if there was an issue that needed correcting”
So what? Did the magic of friendship decide that repairing the friendships of the equine version of Silver, Ardent, and Pierce was essential? Whatever. What’s done is done.
“Who would you find in my stead, should I choose to go home?” I wanted to know what poor sap would get stuck with my doubtlessly unenviable task.
“We bent the rules as it was by bringing you here, expending much of our power in the process. If we send you back, there will be no one to take your place” They dropped a bombshell on me.
This Congress never ceased to confound me. There was no pleading in their voices, just simple facts.
“What about the Princesses?” I countered, “They’re strong! Or will be strong, relatively speaking. They’ve lived long enough and put an end to the conflict that kept the three clans divided. They’re up to the challenge as surely as I am!” I asserted.
“They have devoted their vigil solely to their own borders. We did not choose you to simply represent the Arcanian people and defend them… we choose you to represent all people. Is that not what America is, in its essence?” The intellectual replied, knowing just where to push my sentimental buttons.
“That’s the ideal” I agreed, “But it’s an ideal that fosters indecision as a whole on so many matters. We say that we are united… but it’s not in the strictest sense” I confessed, my idealism meeting realism and shaking hands.
“Then perhaps it is fortunate that establishing your own country is not among your priorities” Dawn wisecracked.
“If you meant for me to unify the people’s of this world, then why did send me to Arcania in the transfer? Or make me a Trifect for that matter? How does that serve you?” I inquired, questions that I had long staved off on asking flowing from my mouth like a fountain.
“They are the best chance this world has for preserving the delicate Harmony that we cherish and uphold. Though you must understand that the process of pulling someone from another world into this one isn’t exact, otherwise you would have been delivered straight to the Princesses… as for your transformation, how would you expect to effect change in the world if we didn’t alter your body? We would not go through the lengths of heralding a champion only to immerse their magic less body in a realm saturated with it. The passive energy inherent to this world would have considered your old form a space devoid of all magic and rushed in to fill it, and like a hypotonic cell, you would burst” They enlightened me on that would with a disturbing mental image.
“And while we appreciate your wit, we fear that wit alone will not be enough to keep safe the balance. Mind and Matter must be hitched to the cart in order to best avail us all” The intellectual used an analogy to stress my need for oneness.
I scratched at my semi physical chin, “I suppose you have a point, and nothing beats the unparalleled freedom of flight, but why a Trifect specifically? Why combine in me the three primary aspects of Arcania’s people?”
“The Trifect is a syncretism of the three Arcanian clans, yes, but the sum of the whole is far greater than those of the individual parts. You represent all three. Your desire for freedom and the speed with which you would rush to protect it, aligns with the fierce nature of the Valkyrians. Your creativity and relentless quest to know more about the world you live in, yet balancing it with moderating wisdom mirrors that of the Stellar Magi. And your insistence on humility despite the reality of your newfound power, matches the down to earth attitude of the Agrarians” The intellectual covered this one as well.
They knew an awful lot about my personality for being that which personified the stars.
“And how are you aware of all these happenings going on below from your starry perch?” I asked with my usual sarcastic bite.
“This realm is timeless. Echoes of the past, reverberations from the present, whispers about the future. We are receptive to all of these things. Sometimes we even allow others to listen in to the prognostications, three in particular were renowned for it, others foresaw but glimpses and committed them to paper” They chorused.
They were referring to Sombra’s codex entry about myself, I just knew it.
“We were also able to observe directly, in your case. Even lend you strength when you needed it most” Visions flashed in my mind’s eye, dancing with fire in a train car filled with explosives, feeling a sudden burst of energy needed to deflect a death blow and strike true, saving a stadium from a falling iceberg.
“You were with me the entire time, weren’t you” I said as more of a statement than an inquiry. The Tantō still on my back buzzed, as if it was a ringer and I had guessed the million dollar question.
“And we always will be” They chorused, this time with more emotion.
“Heh… that makes you guys my guardian angels in a way” I observed, to which they remained silent, “But my methods… they don’t reflect those of a hero, do they? I’m ruthless, and relentless when dealing with conveyers of evil” I slumped, feeling vaguely ashamed of my vindictiveness.
“When we brought over a champion to defend the life and light of this world, we did not expect a being so bright that his radiance would eclipse both of those with his purity. In other words… we aren’t asking you to be perfect, only that you defend goodness… in whatever way you can. So long as you never lose track of doing the right thing. I’d say you’ve done a good job so far” Aurora brushed away my doubts there, while also managing to be witty.
“I’ll humor you then. Why am I here, specifically? How do I propitiate you?” I inquired, wishing there was an itch on the back of my head so I could scratch it.
“The answer to that may require some context into this world’s history” Aurora commented.
“This place is timeless right? Lay it on me” I crossed my arms together and laid back.
They obliged me, storytelling as one, “Long ago… far removed from the days that even the eldest of our number struggle to recall, the newly created world was in its infancy. Freshly sung into existence by a higher power, it was beautiful beyond measure. On it there was one people given stewardship of the Earth. Life, Love, and Harmony for all was the overarching motif of this idyllic macrocosm. But in the shadows unseen, there lurked an entity that was born from the antithesis of these values. Death, Hate, and Disharmony… That was all this entity knew, and so it came forth from the foul abyss where it spawned and added its own dissonant voice to the ongoing song, sowing destruction, distrust, and despair into the hearts of all. Whispering lies in the right ears and stoking the fears of those that could oppose its vile schemes, it divided one people into many that fought amongst themselves and against each other. The Paradise that the world was shaping out to be… was lost. And yet this was not enough for the entity, which was deemed the ‘Great Dissonance’ for its perversion of the song of creation. Consolidating its power, it took on a material form and personally struck a blow against life itself. Countless people perished and the lands were ravaged from a potent fury that was too horrendous to fully commit to memory”
“Where’s the part of this story where good rises up against this evil and strikes it down?” I asked impatiently, despite having a faint idea of how it was subdued.
They resumed their tale, “So terrible was the entity’s influence on the world that the same power that charged us with guardianship over the world intervened, sealing the Great Dissonance away in its prison and shattering it into multiple pieces. Six shards in all, each containing a malevolent aspect of the greater whole. Poetically, six objects of wondrous power, each representing an aspect of Harmonious Goodness, were crafted and given to the free peoples of the Earth. You know these as the Elements of Harmony. Those worthy of wielding them would have the power to subdue any and all evils of the same ilk”
I thought at much.
“And now, in your present time, each of the shards are awakening in the distant corners of the lands… the entity has been gathering its strength and setting the stage for its return. It has perceived that its time has come again” There was a dread silence that settled upon the assembly before the intellectual spoke again, “You must make obtaining these shards your utmost priority. Their awakening is no doubt attracting those to them with dark ambitions in their hearts, the entity knows this and will deceive them into believing that possession of all fragments of the containment crystal will ensure them power beyond their wildest fantasies. If the fragments were to fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be detrimental!”
“But these shards have a corruptive influence that affects everyone around them. It even brutally kills them after prolonged exposure!” I pointed out, remembering Celestia’s report on the subject. And she had sent Dee after them!
“We have a solution for that. You must enwrap the shards in fresh sheets of living moss” Said a softer feminine voice, almost like Fluttershy’s.
I quirked a brow that I wasn’t sure I still possessed, “Moss? You’re telling me that the antidote to the negative effects of these ominous crystal shards… is simple moss?”
“This entity sustains itself on death, only life may counteract it” Aurora explained, disregarding my skepticism.
My brow furrowed, “Okay. But what about the Elements? If this entity were to somehow gain material form again, could they not put an end to it?” I brought up.
“The Elements of Harmony are a potent force indeed” The intellectual acknowledged, “But they lack the means to put down this Great Dissonance for good. Their sole purpose is to cleanse their mark of Evil and restore Harmony, but if their target is a being of pure Evil itself, then they will be ineffective by themselves” He explained, “No, the Elements alone will not be enough”
“Then what would constitute enough?” I cautiously asked.
“…” They did not answer at first. I felt a wave of something approaching careful deliberation among them, almost like they were whispering amongst themselves to confirm that whatever they were about to do was the right action. Whatever course of action they were debating, I felt little in the way of dissent against it.
“We cannot directly interfere in the world of the living” They reached a general consensus, “However, you can. We will give you the means of dispatching the Great Dissonance… should the worst come to pass”
I sighed gratefully, “Oh, well that’s a relief. I was worried that I’d have to figure out a way myself”
“We would not be charged with watching over the world if we did not have every tool in our disposal for protecting it” They almost sounded unamused by my lack of faith in them.
“I’m not one of those tools, am I?” I asked dryly.
“Of course not!” Dawn assured me, “Tools don’t get to have free will and sentience”
“We bequeathed the Sisters power over the Sun and Moon. Now we offer you a similar mantle, though one far more immense and wide-reaching in its scope” They chorused carefully, “But by accepting this power, you also agree to stay in this world and become its protector” They made clear.
I thought about it long and hard. On one hand, they were giving me a way out of this mess, but doing so could endanger countless lives to this ‘Great Dissonance’ thing whose only desire was to destroy. And on the other hand, I was being given the metaphorical keys to the Saleen, while Celestia and Luna received plain Mustangs. It was a lot to take in… but at least I knew where I stood now in this world. Besides, I can’t declare with justification that I didn’t benefit from this as a person. I had made friends with some pretty incredible women, and was already in a position that suited my cravings for a meaningful purpose.
“Yours is the power that keeps my wifi active right?” I asked, out of the blue.
“We’re glad you’ve noticed that. Maintaining an information highway across realms is no easy feat” The intellectual wryly observed, “What makes you ask this?”
“Can I request a favor?” I felt a general wave of approval, “May I compose one last message to my family? You’ve blocked it so I can’t get in touch with them that way”
“Granted” They accepted quickly, “Though we will edit it if it reveals anything that is not to leave this realm”
I shook my head, “I won’t apprise them as to what I’ve been up to… I just want the chance to say goodbye, and to tell them that I love them”
“We understand. Do you accept our boon?” The chorused with enthusiasm.
“I accept” I nodded, “From this point onwards, I am your champion. I can’t promise that I won’t make mistakes along the way, but I can promise that I will always strive to live up to what is required of me to protect this world” I solemnly vowed, taking a knee and bowing my head formally.
I felt something surge within me, something that was intentionally buried deep down to prevent me from accidentally accessing it when it was not needed. It felt immensely powerful though… being the equivalent of a serious level up in my books.
“We have granted you power beyond power given to that of any other. You’ll know what to do with it when the time comes” Aurora counseled me, “But be warned, while you now possess the means to save this world, you also have the same power to destroy it and render it lifeless until the end of time. You must only use this power in the utmost dire of circumstances, and never for long even then”
Images were projected into my mind detailing just how perilous the misuse of this new ability I now bore was. I could now take the life energies of the Earth itself and convert it into raw magical power to fuel any spell I could conceive. I let the implications of that slowly sink into my psyche. I had essentially been given a double edged sword, and even that expression did not do it justice. For every minute that I channeled the energies within the planet, square miles of landscape would go barren and stay lifeless for years onwards. But in exchange, I would have more magical power than I would know what to do with. This power was not for me to misuse… I could not stress that to myself enough.
“To whom much is entrusted, much is also expected” They chorused, their perfectly in tandem voices instilling a sense of singular duty in me.
“No pressure then…” I trailed off, “So now what?” I inquired of the Constellar Congress.
“Now you must return to Arcania the way you left” Aurora answered, “We will contact you in the same way Luna can contact you in dreams. After all, that’s one of the perks that we bequeathed to her on the side as the Princess of the Night. It’s also how we led her and her sister to us… and by extension you, as well”
“Fare thee well… Zenith” They pronounced my moniker in such a way that implied that they knew my real name, but would honor my wishes to retain an Arcanian identity on the side.
I felt a suctioning force behind me draw me back through the portal of the Heavensgate. My vision went blurry again until it was suddenly clear again with stunning clarity. My body was suspended in the middle of the arch and I was bathed in light that was tinted crimson that I was jealous of the Princesses for having earlier. When I floated down and my feet touched to stone though, my light did not cease glowing or recede into my body. My hair wasn’t wavy of anything (Thank the Lord), but moved like there was a breeze blowing through it. My skin was pleasantly tingly all over, and I could tell that my body was adjusting to being able to call upon the might of all magic on Earth at my beckoning. I was honored that those charged with indirectly maintaining the balance would give me stewardship over the balance itself. I would do everything I could to live up to that trust, come hell or high water. I turned in place to see Starswirl and the awoken Princesses gazing at me with the same look that a child witnessing something that evoked sentiments of awe would. I gave myself a once over and realized that I wasn’t just bathed in supernal light; I was the one radiating it this time.
I hummed thoughtfully over this, “Let’s hope that isn’t a permanent feature. I’m shining like a present tree over here” My voice was overlapped over itself, giving it an echoing, mysterious quality that I enjoyed.
I turned to the wizard, “This is where we part ways Starswirl. You were a good friend, and it’s been a blast adventuring alongside you. Remember that these lovely ladies will be in need of your guidance over the following years. I have no doubts whatsoever that you’ll mold them into the greatness that they’re destined for” He couldn’t muster a reply with his mouth, so he settled for a curt nod.
“Wait!” Celestia called out to me, “Who art thou? We owe thee our lives!” She beseeched me for my name.
I smiled at her and spoke, “You’ll know me Celestia… I’ll introduce myself as the Starwalker” With my peace said, I faced the portal whose aperture returned to a familiar room in the Krystal Kingdom that I was dying to get back to.
One crossing of the threshold and I was back to the future in a flash.
The glass of the cosmic mirror of realized destiny (which was in all likelihood just a regular mirror) rippled as I stepped out of its aperture and down from the platform. The light that I was still radiating began to pulse with brightness one last time before I felt it absorb back into my body, with my wavy hair returning to its natural, straightly combed state. This was perfectly fine by me, since being permanently lit up like the Vegas strip was not a preference of mine. The source of monumental power that was always present within me and only recently brought to full potency by the starry Constellar Congress surged as strong as ever, though I would have to exercise singularly judicious prudence in its usage. That is… if I ever had to use it, which I sincerely hoped I would not. Knowing how my life’s events typically played out for me though, that was likely to be the case.
I spared a short glance back at the surface of the portal, which had by then returned to that solid, reflective state as was befitting of a mirror. A cursory touch from my fingers was met with stiff resistance and a smudge that sullied the mirror’s pristine glass, and only placid red pools of unfathomable depth answered my pensive stare. The mysterious means powering the portal resulted in over a thousand years of history passing me by in the literal blink of an eye, and it made me wonder just how much I had missed in the intervening period between those two points in time. Arcania’s past itself didn’t have much turbulence beyond the occasional spat with aggressor countries like the fledgling (‘Heh’) nation of Gryphondria some years after its inception, though I suspect that much of its hidden past was left out of the history books at the Princesses’ behest.
I stopped my ponderings for the nonce to let my own past catch up to me. When I had left this Scintillating Citadel, I was still reeling from inadvertently revealing to Arcania as a whole that I was the fourth Trifect (Or the first, depending on how you look at it). Sure I saved some people from what would have been a nasty case of ice splinters wedged in their everywhere, but now I had no choice but to accept the Princesses’ offer to stand vigil over the country beside them as one of its official rulers. If it really came down to it, I could swallow my misgivings and become the Prince that the nation needed me to be, even if I’d hate practically every moment of it. But I couldn’t let Arcania alone dominate my political priorities now, as I had an equal responsibility to the world at large, as was confirmed by my…inauguration.
It still wasn’t a tenure that I was looking forward to however, taking a position of power next to the Princesses would put me in the spotlight on the world stage, and I worked most efficiently when I was relatively unknown to the larger players on the game board. Fighting and questing alongside an important figure like Starswirl had given me a taste of what it was like to make a difference in the grander scheme of things, even if it was for a comparatively short period. I found that I enjoyed it, though the whole act of the gracious do-gooder could do without the bloody butcher’s work that’s rarely if ever hinted at in the heroes’ stories that I was hooked on when I was growing up. My trip was additionally a teaser of what it was like being a wanted individual, in the eyes of the ancient Valkyrians sent after the wizard and the Acolytes who were equally out to get us. I didn’t flinch or bend under the pressure then, I didn’t expressly see why it would affect me now. Perhaps I was a fair deal more prepared for the trials ahead than I had at first presumed.
I unsheathed my Tantō and stared at the immaculate blade for a time, noting the faint shimmer on the pommel clueing me in on my constant connection with the supernal sentinels who had brought me here for their purposes (‘No… my purposes now’). I couldn’t even begin to imagine the full ramifications of what it meant to be charged with guardianship over this Earth and all of her people. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and rather humbling in a way. Not so long ago I was merely a foreigner exploring a strange and yet altogether familiar world, no particular direction for my life in mind. And now here I was, empowered by the Constellar Congress as their ‘representative’ with boots on the ground and a firm sense of purpose in my heart. The time for exploring was over it seemed… now was the time for effecting action. The Great Dissonance that had wreaked unspeakable horrors on the world was once again gathering its strength in the shadows, biding its time, and I did not know how long we had until it lashed out with it. I’d have to make Celeste and Sele-… I mean, the Princesses Celestia and Luna, aware of this fact.
The door to the room was closed and all of the furniture and portraits had remained untouched, so I had assumed that when I opened up those doors, I wouldn’t find a desolate, dilapidated statue of liberty scene right out of Planet of the Apes staring me in the face. Sure enough, when my hands grasped the circular door handles and pulled inward, the regular, sparkling hallways of the Crystal Citadel were there to reassure me that no notably significant leaps forward in time were made in my absence. I strode forward as I tried to remember my way around the joint. I rounded a corner and into a hallway that had a duo of guards posted there, they noticed my presence and hailed me with the usual postured salute of their spears.
“My Lord Zenith!” They greeted me; mildly taken aback, “Prince Shining Armor was close to assembling a search party for you, had you been absent from the citadel any longer” They apprised me.
“At ease. I’m here” I told them with a lazy wave of my hand, “What day is it?” I inquired, once they had resumed their regular stance.
“Tis the afternoon of the fifteenth. The third day of the athletic events” The one closest to me answered, “I also see it fit to inform you that we were ordered to direct you to the nearest person of the group you arrived with before the start of the games. They would most likely be lunching in the dining hall at this time. Miss Sparkle and her friends were quite distraught to find that you had gone missing on them” He added his own observations.
‘I’ve haven’t even been gone an entire day… weird, but not surprising’ I cogitated offhandedly about the relativity of portal travel between worlds and across time.
I rubbed at the back of my head, “I guess I’ve got some explaining to do. Thanks for notifying me. Back to your watch then” I scooted past them and made for the dining hall, thinking about how I was going to justify my sudden disappearance and reappearance to those closest to me.
I could already envision the sundry reactions that I would be receiving from them the moment I showed my face. Twilight would embrace me and grill me for information on where I had been, Rarity and Fluttershy would do the same; except with more passion and stressed fear, Rainbow and Applejack would make hard contact with me and accuse me of slipping off without telling anybody, and Pinkie would… well, I knew better than to categorize Pinkie’s possible reactions as a single response.
Outside the open window slits of the citadel, the strident and faintly echoing sound of cheering could clearly be made out, signifying to me that the events of the last day of the games were in full swing. If I recalled correctly, Magiville didn’t have many competitors that would participating in the end events, so it didn’t come as a shock that my friends might be chilling inside of the citadel instead of cheering on their neighbors in the stadium. I idly wondered how the Princesses suppressed the press, given my parting display of heroics on the second day. I was okay with a few Magivillians catching on that I was more than I seemed, but with the Athletic Games being covered by most of Arcania’s news agencies, I somehow doubted that they would simply let that question lingering on everyone’s minds recede. I shook my head as I descended some stairs and drew closer to the dining hall of the citadel. That was a headache for future me to deal with.
I soon reached the wide, crystal filigreed arched doorways to the dining hall and the guards posted at the door kindly pressed their hands against them and pushed it open for me, giving me a nod of recognition as I passed by. Inside the oddly long hall (the Crystal Citadel was a tall structure, albeit not a terribly wide one. So a dining slash feasting hall that could contain roughly one hundred and fifty people sitting abreast was a fairly impressive accomplishment) were rows of trestle tables that had elongated sheets of multicolored cloth draped over them. Silver candelabras held up indigo wax candles that burned with a bluish tint and lightly infused the air with a lavender scent that was underwhelming enough that it would not interfere with the taste buds as one sat down to eat.
The hall didn’t have the impressive animated atmosphere that the one in Concordia did, but the snowflake shaped chandeliers that bathed the hall in prismatic light were no less inspiring. There was a smattering of people scattered up and down the tables, most of them looking to be the distinguished types from all over. Servants would ferry platters of crystalline (yet somehow palatable) food back and forth to the tables’ occupants before scurrying downstairs to the kitchens to retrieve additional servings to keep their influential guests’ bellies filled (It makes a favorable impression for auspicious business transactions in the future). Others were refilling silvered cups of Hippocras and mulled wine that sparkled like everything else in this Kingdom. Nobles from the Capital, renowned artisans and tradesmen, diplomats from the various countries that Arcania shared the world stage with, all of whom were present and watched my entrance with barely concealed interest. Some of them likely recognized me from ‘yesterday’ if their susurrus and mutterings to each other were any sort of hint. I ignored them, their subdued prattling, and their scathing gazes. The people who directly mattered to me were my only concern here. Speaking of whom, seated at the end of the dining hall was Twilight, who had yet to see me.
Across from her and chatting amicably was a guard who was wearing a different set of armor from what I’d come to expect from the security in the Krystal Kingdom. Encased in swirling golden plate armor that had a blue star clasp holding up a peach colored cape, the blue haired guard’s face struck me as being familiar, my face screwing up in rumination as I struggled to place an identifier to it. It clicked when I recalled that this was the young Skyborn lieutenant assigned to Cadence’s personal protection detail that had caught Twilight’s eye in the past. What was his name again? Flash Sentry? The well groomed man was roughly my age, with a shine in his complexion that made him seem younger than that somehow. Whatever the context of this rendezvous together, they seemed to be having a good time in each other’s company, though Twilight’s smile seemed to be half genuine and half a mask for something that was troubling her. The two of them were so immersed in their conversation about the particulars of Flash’s rounds shadowing Cadence from a close but unobtrusive distance that they had scarce noticed my entry, let alone comprehended my identity. And I saw no reason to intrude upon their little ‘lunch date’.
I stopped pacing down the floor between the table rows and twisted around to double back when I heard Twilight make a flabbergasted noise of recognition and shouted out after me, “Zenith!” She got up from her seat and I heard her footfalls pitter patter down the hall as she jogged to catch up to me. I ceased moving and sighed. There went my carefully laid plans for beating a stealthy retreat.
I turned about to face her, “Hello Twilight” I acknowledged her with a thin, vaguely contrite smile. She was wearing a purple sweater vest coupled with a long sleeved, well insulated shirt and pants. She had been among those on the train ride to the Kingdom to complain of the stiffness the cold air imparted to their skin, so she had packed heavier raiment suitable for winter. As could be expected, most of our Skyborn neighbors had no such issues.
“Zenith! Where have you been? You missed the entirety of this morning’s games!” She surrounded me in a hug that belied how strong she could be. She pulled back as her nose immediately wrinkled up, “Ugh! You smell like the bowels of a Hydra!” She commented, recoiling back from me.
‘I guess being officially instated as a protector doesn’t come with a free dry cleaning. I wonder if Eau de Hydra would be a marketable product?’ I mentally quipped, not noticing the distinctly sour fragrance until she had pointed it out. The selectively permeable membrane spell I had shielded myself with when I was eviscerating the guts of the multi headed beast only prevented caustic damage, but did nothing about any unwanted odors.
I chuckled briefly at her adorable expression, “Funny story that…”
“One that I would very much like to hea-…” She stopped dead in her sentence once we had made eye contact.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked her, wary of that shocked look.
She shook herself out of her daze, “Your eyes… something about them feels… older” She barely spoke above a whisper.
“I’m going to presume for your sake that wasn’t a disguised jab at my age. And there’s a story behind that too” I dismissively waved a hand, “Though let’s just sum it up as this: I went places, saw things…” I paused, faint flickers of memories replaying themselves in my mind, “Did things” My expression darkened considerably for an instant before I banished it with a mirthless smirk, “But it’s not that important, since I’m back anyway. What else did I miss? Other than the games, that is”
“We were only pulling at our hair in our desperation to find you! I went to knock on your door yesterday and you weren’t there! It was like you had just vanished! Even the Princesses’ scrying spells came back inconclusive…” She gasped as the words rang a bell in her head, “THE PRINCESSES! They need to know that you’re back right this instant!” She made to grab at my arm, but I pulled away before she could snatch me up.
She gave me a confused look, “Zenith? What’s wrong? We need to get going right now! Princess Celestia was beside herself with anxiety when she couldn’t find you with magic!”
I wasn’t going to be dragged to the Princesses by the bookworm like I was some overdue library tome that was drastically required to be turned in, “Then you can tell Celestia that if she wants to talk to me, she can do so at the top of the Citadel in an hour or so. I have other things I need to take care of first”
Twilight couldn’t comprehend this, but had begrudgingly grown accustomed to my attitude of non deference to their Royal Highnesses, “What could be more important than telling everyone that you’ve returned to us?”
I quivered my head side to side, keeping my positive grin, “Absolutely nothing, as I mean to do just that. But I intend to do so in my own way. Tell me, where are the others as of this moment?”
Twilight frowned at my explanation but went deep into thought, “Well… Rainbow Dash and Applejack are probably in our usual seats at the stadium cheering for our local pole vaulting team. Rarity and Fluttershy are biting at their nails and fretting together over what happened to you in their rooms. Pinkie is…” She glanced about in a perplexed fashion, “…or was with me a while ago. The Mana Mark Maidens are exploring the Kingdom and are probably asking the natives here how they earned their Mana Marks, at least I hope that is what they are doing” Her forehead creased as she chastised herself for the likely mistake of letting them out of their sights again. Those girls could get themselves into quite the pickle if they put their minds to it.
“Business as usual then” I exhaled casually, contented by this stab of normality, “Anything else to report?”
“What am I? A member of the Royal Guard?” She frowned at my strange phrasing, but scoured her brain for more, “There was a girl in green outside your door at dawn who wanted a word with you before I shooed her off” She muttered before shaking her head dismissively, “And Spike has… locked himself up in his room and refuses to speak to anyone, even me! He doesn’t even know that you’ve been missing!” She grabbed me by the lapels of my robe, “He told me that you were disappointed with him just before he sealed himself up in there to hide beneath his sheets” Her protective glare was menacing, “What did you say to him that has him in such a self demeaning rut?”
‘Girl in green? Lyra?’ I thought in puzzlement. When had she snuck along on the train with us? No matter. I would speak with her later.
I hummed regretfully as I remembered how curt I was with him, “I was… unnecessarily cold towards him after the frozen cloud incident. I’ll speak to him now… if he’ll hear me out” I offered in order to placate her.
She let go of me, giving me an approving nod, “Good. Spike looks up to you. You know that, right?” She apprised me in a softer tone.
“Does he?” I instinctively expressed my doubtfulness, “I’m not exactly an anchored influence in his life” Though even a minimal amount of exposure seems to have a profound emotional effect on people in this world. The culprit had to be that ‘Magic of Friendship’ jazz that the bookworm is so fond of trying to hammer into my skull, along with everybody else it seemed.
She crossed her arms together and simpered, “Don’t sell yourself short, Zenith. When we first arrived here, he kept me up all night with how enthused he had been with the prospect of lighting the ceremonial torch, and how that wouldn’t have been possible had you not been there to inspire him to find his courage when fear gripped his core under the eyes of so many people” She threw the memory in my face. My urging wouldn’t have been necessary if Spike wasn’t so weak kneed at the idea of being within sight of thousands of spectators to begin with.
“Fear is the only time one can be brave” I recited in monotone, only partially believing that adage. My brow pinched into itself, “And how does he feel about Rarity and I… being in a relationship?” I discreetly cadged from a second hand source. It wasn’t something I would normally look into, but I needed to gauge that nuance to determine whether or not it would become a future issue.
“He’s… jealous, to say the least” She sighed and ran a hand though the pink streak of her lustrous purple hair, “Though I find it very mature that he trusts you with Rarity’s happiness to the point that he won’t interfere, tempted as he is. He’s very sweet on her, as anyone with eyes can tell… which makes it that much more of a testament to his respect for you” Twilight then scanned about the hall nervously, as if she had taken a great risk by breaking some sacred agreement that was bound with eldritch power. Her face paled as she spotted something behind me that I was too indifferent to look at myself. The Pink One’s ways were as frightening as they were mysterious, as Twilight was presently being reminded of.
‘Perhaps he shouldn’t’ I mused darkly. Rarity is an upstanding woman that I respect in the highest for both her skill with a needle and her giving virtue, but she is a love struck fool to place her tender heart in my care. Regardless… there is some shade of chivalrous honor in me somewhere, and I don’t intend to abuse that sacred trust.
“I’m honored by his faith in me” I remarked. ‘Even if it’s probably misplaced’
“I’ll have a word with him straightaway. You can get back to your lunch date with a member of Cadence’s personal guard now” I said to her, not unkindly. I personally didn’t care that much about whom the bookworm fancied, any chances of taking an interest in her myself was dashed when she intruded upon my innermost sanctum with such careless disregard. I had forgiven her… but I would never forget that.
Twilight misinterpreted this anyway, her cheeks going flush with blood, “We’re not-…! I’m not on a lunch date with anybody!” She deflected in a flustered tone that no one with a lick of common sense would believe. She chanced a backwards peek at her not lunch date, who waved back at her with a patient, if slightly bemused toothy smile.
“Uh huh…” I droned, letting her know that her charade wasn’t fooling anyone, “At least have the courtesy not to brazenly deny it to someone who’s been inside that orderly head of yours. I know you, Sparkle… almost as well as you know me” I reminded her of the forced connection that gave both of us a better understanding about the other that we now shared.
“Oh all right!” Twilight admitted in a hushed tone, slumping her shoulders in defeat, “So what if I’m taking time out of my schedule to socialize with Flash Sentry? He’s an interesting guy!” She defended her reasons, even though I was hardly accusing her of doing anything unsavory.
“I don’t doubt it if he’s been personally handpicked to be assigned to guard Princess Cadence’s person herself” I told her with a hidden grain of salt, “But need I remind you that he’s posted here… and therefore not available to be anywhere else unless otherwise reassigned” Cavorting with the local guard was all well and good, but she couldn’t be nearly naïve enough to think that a viable relationship could come of it, her standing as a bearer of an Element of Harmonious Virtue notwithstanding.
“I know…” She demurred with a disheartened sagging motion, sounding like she had put that pertinent thought to the back of her mind, “But I can make the most of the time we have together now” She declared resolutely, standing as tall as her slim, bookish figure allowed.
Our conversation at an end, she returned to her place in front of the young guardsman, laughing with more believable sincerity as he japed about his early tenure as a raw recruit. I was just relieved that I adequately misdirected her so as to not go loping off to Celestia with all haste. I exited the dining hall and made for our clique’s personal quarters higher up on the citadel’s levels. Soft, orange light poured in through slits in the windowless walls, earlier than in the months prior. In accordance with wintertime, Celestia would lower the Sun sooner and Luna would promptly raise the moon in a similar method. Winter would only last in Arcania from December and ending in early January (I was oddly looking forward to the fabled Winter Wrap Up collective ceremony), but the same could not be said of lands across the sea and beyond its borders. Not that it really mattered up here in the North, where the snows and crisp chill of the air were ever present.
Within ten minutes I was standing before the doorway leading into Twilight and Spike’s shared room. To a normal man’s hearing all was silent, but my keen ears could pick up on muted sniffling that leaked out from underneath the slit of the door in truncated intervals and bursts. It made me feel guilty about the harshness that I had shown Spike after the falling ice cloud, but he could have saved the crowds from harm just the same as me dammit. So why did he fall prey to cowardice? It was almost sufficient to make one doubt the potency of the dragon’s blood flowing in his veins. I grit my teeth and stuffed down the grievances I carried with an oft practiced ease. It would not do to go and comfort the boy if I still felt steamed at him.
My knuckles rapped against the door twice, the knock echoing inside the chamber like a loosened pebble tumbling onto the floor of a tomb, “Spike, are you in there?” I didn’t use magic to sense if he was, preferring to do this the old fashioned way.
“Who’s that? Twilight?” A muffled voice vocalized from within, “Go away!”
I snorted, “Last I recalled, no one ever mistook my baritone for Twilight’s esoteric, librarian voice” I quipped, wondering if the half-dragon boy’s ears had gone on a sad strike too.
“Zenith?” I heard his footsteps pace the solid, crystalline floor before the lock to the door slid open and the equally crystalline portal gaped wide, revealing the room’s dark eyed occupant to me.
Suffice it to say in this artificial climate, but Spike was looking under the weather, his eyelids drooped, his shoulders sank submissively, and his emerald green irises had lost their peppy shine. He was clad in his pajamas, which indicated that he hadn’t even gotten out of his bed to change since going to sleep previously, content to be a sad sack safely enwrapped in his silky sheets. I’ve opined this before and will inevitably opine it again: people here were just too freakin’ sensitive. Though to be fair, those who knew me well would probably assert the opposite about me.
“Hello Spike” I greeted him carefully, “You been catching up on yours and Rarity’s beauty sleep combined? Believe me when I tell you that she has plenty of it” I playfully prodded at him, hoping to lighten the somber mood in him and soften him up.
The joke had no effect on him whatsoever (Mentioning Rarity wasn’t very prudent of me either), “Uh… sure. What are you doing here? I figured I was the last person you’d want to see right about now” He got to the point rather than beat around the bush, which I always admired in folks.
“There are far worse people I pray I’ll never see again, Spike” I conveyed candidly in a flat tone that did not do how wholehearted I was about that statement justice, “And you are nowhere on that list. May I come in? You and I need to have a chat, friend to friend” I emphasized, buttering him up the unctuous way instead.
He was relieved that I still considered him a friend, “Uh, yeah!” He shouted, before getting a grip on his previous demeanor to save face, “Yeah, come in” He stood aside and granted me entry into his and Twilight’s bedchambers.
It was surprisingly spartan in furnishing, all things considered, with a crystalline dresser, two four post beds lacking curtains, and nightstands for each of them. Not that this setup was that much different from my own just down the hallway, though I would have thought that an Element Bearer’s quarters would be more fulsome than this. Unsurprisingly, Twilight’s nightstand had a large, myriad pile of books stacked on it as reading material for the knowledge hungry woman. I stifled a chuckle when I saw ‘One hundred and one ways to cheer’ labeled on one of the spines. That explained all the weird hooting noises that she had made on the second day of the games.
I sat down on the unruffled sheets of Twilight’s bed at the foot, the thousand year old (but still supple) mattress absorbing and evenly distributing my weight like sponge cake, “So…” I began with a pensive drawl, “I hear that you’ve been isolating yourself in here to sulk, unable to be roused by even Twilight”
The boy bristled at my brusque broaching of the subject, “Yeah…? What about it!?” He growled irritably.
“It’s not healthy to shut people out, Spike. Particularly those that care about you” I scolded him, instantly feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world for saying that with a unwavering, flat expression. I was fortunate that my reticent personality naturally gifted (or cursed, depending on how you look at it) me with a face as expressive as stone.
“I opened the door for you didn’t I?” He countered coolly.
“And only me… now why is that?” I crisply posed aloud, staring him down.
His composed attitude crumbled under my withering gaze, “Your words to me out there in that stadium touched me twice, Zenith” He admitted, “You helped me find my courage when the thought of all those eyes on me unnerved me like the thought of re-cataloging the entire library blindfolded and by myself” He shivered at the idea, “But they also hurt me too… people here called me Brave and Glorious… still call me that, even with evidence to the contrary. But when you uttered it to me in that chilly tone after I failed to act during the incident” He shivered again, “It made me realize that I wasn’t as brave as people made me out to be. I was yet afraid that there might have been a repeat of my birthday incident had it continued. I was possessed by greed to such an extent that it slowly pushed out my humanity… until only a massive dragon of incredible avarice was left” He looked to me desperately, “Pride won’t turn me into a monster again, will it!?”
“It seems unlikely” I voiced my doubts, “Even if it were so. Your friends would be there to bring you back from the brink” I stated with confidence. They did it before, after all. Especially Rarity, I’m told.
His alleviation was palpable, “Thank the Princesses! I’m not even that big of a deal in all truthfulness… I only kept the Crystal Heart free of Sombra’s shadowy clutches long enough for Princess Cadence to awaken its true power. She’s the Brave one. Not me” He lessened his importance, whether in a show of humility or accepted disgrace was hard to tell.
“Nonsense!” I sharply rebuked him, making him jerk in surprise, “Sombra was an evil man… and evil men are more than capable of doing despicable things in the name of advancing their own ends (‘Or that of others’)” I waxed philosophical, “You are very brave indeed to resist such a man for the sake of this Kingdom and your friends. Don’t let anyone gainsay you otherwise, not even your own self”
He smiled a little at that, “Heh… it’s too bad you weren’t there. You could make him out to be no more than the black fart of air that he appeared to be” He joked.
“You’re probably right” I chortled, amused at his unflattering description of the mad, slavering, slave king. Though I would do far worse to a tyrannical, slave driving monster such as him if we were to square off.
I got up from the bed and knelt before the boy, clasping my hands on his shoulders, “I meant every word that I spoke to you on the balcony that day, Spike. You’ve the body of a young man, but the soul of a dragon… and a noble one at that. It is my sincerest hope that you’ll grow to be as valiant as you will be tall” Assuming he gets a normal growth spurt anytime soon, anyhow.
His eyes glinted with childish excitement for that future, “I can’t wait! I want to be tall as Big Macintosh someday!” He declared, “Or you! Nobody would dare to look down at me! Not that they could!” He puffed himself up, reminding me that he was still a boy in most regards.
I sent him a dry smirk, “Be glad you are at the height you are now, Spike. I have to duck my head to avoid bumping it on things more often than I care for, and some of the beds I’ve tried out there in the vast, wide world have felt like they were built for dwarves. Once, I had a shorter woman complain of neck pain to me after five minutes expended talking to her. Though to be equitable to her, I was on horseback at the time” I alluded to my time spent questioning locals of the Dreamy Vale about the whereabouts of the two sisters.
The aforementioned woman was a lady of the minor Agrarian noble house of Greywood, which controlled a village that the Sisters supposedly passed through. She wasn’t of much help, but she showed us hospitality and wined and dined us in her main hall after we introduced ourselves. It certainly didn’t hurt that I tossed in a few honeyed words here and there regarding her comely countenance (Albeit her glimmering, turquoise eyes were fixed firmly on my companion Starswirl, who had squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, unused to being measured up in a vaguely carnal fashion). There had been another guest of hers staying there that swore he interacted with the roaming Sisters, and caught wind of where they might have gone next. Starswirl added his two cents whenever he saw the need, but I was the appointed speaker of our adventurous duo. I truly wondered about what became of that land, and all of its noble houses. The only noble houses that I came into contact with in Arcania seemed to be concentrated in Concordia, and most of those people were snobs. Society there more or less collapsed with the onslaught of the Windigoes, and people were forced to flee eastward to safety and warmth, presumably over that land bridge I spied on the map.
“If you say so…” Spike sounded unconvinced, “So are we… cool? As Rainbow would define it?”
I smiled at him and tapped both his shoulders with my fingers twice, “Frosty as the air outside the climate barrier” I assured him.
He looked singularly relieved to hear that when part of what I said to him caught up to his brain, “Wait… since when were you on horseback? I’ve always seen you walking when in Magiville, or teleporting away when too many people were bothering you. Twilight says that’s a rude thing to do, by the way” He added as an afterthought.
‘Maybe it’s a rude thing for too many people to get up in my face for their trivial, frivolous reasons’ I griped silently. At least now whenever people bug me, I can use my wings to make a quick getaway.
“That’s a bit of a tale, Spike. Besides, it’s nothing worth hearing about” I attempted to downplay how much of a lie that was, and how my unnoted absence to him of one day was endured nearly a month elsewhere and elsewhen.
He looked disappointed that I was withholding from him, “Alright… if it’s not a big deal to you” He shrugged it off, “What about the girls? They tend to get protective of me and Twilight doubtlessly told them all how I was moping in here. Wouldn’t take much for them to connect the dots” He put out, not realizing how they took greater concern with my brief disappearance.
“I’ll manage them piecemeal” I ran a tentative hand through my hair, “I still need to give Rainbow her favorite band’s autograph that I had signed for her” She had been so enamored with her precious Wonderbolts that the specialness of having a signed piece of paper from one of her favorites bands would have dulled in comparison so I held off on it. Now that I’m back in the Kingdom though…
“I can give it to her for you, Zenith!” The boy offered graciously, “As my way of apologizing for getting cold feet in the stadium” He clarified, not wanting to seem too overeager.
“Ironic, given the fire that burns within you” I jested with a grin.
“Yeah, I’m only a half-dragon after all” He nodded, playing along.
“Take heart, Spike. That just means you get the best of both worlds (‘But hopefully not the worst of each too’)” I mussed his ruffled, spiky hair, earning a feigned yelp of indignation and an unamused glower as he pulled back to return it to its natural state with his hands.
We parted ways after I imparted Spike with an extremely crumpled, waterlogged autograph signed by all four members of the Star Seekers (it was remarkably clean, all previous events taken into consideration) that I had stashed in the many inner pockets of my robes. Spike goggled first in awe when I handed it to him, perhaps having listened to a few of their hits himself, and then in puzzlement once he previewed that it was in less than perfect condition. I followed down the hallway for a few meters until the door to my chambers was in view. Despite myself, I hummed pleasantly when I saw that the rudimentary sign taped across the door labeled ‘Go away, I’m brooding’ was left hanging there. I was only gone for barely a day’s worth of real time, but relatively speaking it was like seeing a nostalgic piece of memorabilia.
I reached out to grasp at the handle when an inexplicable sensation prickled in the back of my mind. I didn’t know what this mysterious Hypersense was or how it came to be, but it never failed to buzz in my skull whenever it was informing me that something was amiss. The last time it went off, I was nearly blindsided in the tub by three armed assailants. Not desiring a repeat of such an unwanted close encounter of the sharp kind, I slid my Tantō out of its sheathe and pushed the handle down as if I was entering normally. The room was obscured in shadow since I had drawn the curtains over the open apertures in the walls and the light from the hallway only illuminated a miniscule portion of it. I stepped inside quietly, all of my muscles tensed and ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary; with the room more or less the way I left it after I had waltzed off to rig Cadence and Shining Armor’s personal bedchambers (I was dying to see how that scheme paid off). The odd sensation hadn’t gone away though, so I kept alert until I was sure any dangers had been accounted for. I sidled along the wall of the room until I was close enough to wrench the curtains back and finished lightening up the chambers. My adventure pack was resting next to a solid writing desk of pure, ruby red corundum crystal where I had left it. The immediate warning sign that someone had been in here though was that the sheets of the bed had been tucked and neatly straightened out (I had yet to grow out of that messy bed phase).
There wasn’t anybody here that I could see hiding in ambush for me, so I slid my Tantō back into its sheath and sighed, untying the various bags and purses on my person and depositing them on the tabletop. I guessed to myself that my substitute Spider-sense must have been on the fritz as I sat down at my desk to deflate where no one could see it, pinching at the bridge of my nose to support the brunt of my skull as I mashed it into my left hand. I had been gone for what I would have deemed a transient time in the past (quite literally), but it had felt like a lifetime ago thanks to how much I had experienced in that interval. I tried fruitlessly to convince myself that the person who had emerged from that mirror was still the same person that went in, but it was a boldfaced lie no matter how many times I ran it by myself. I didn’t know what to make of myself anymore. I had twisted the truth at my leisure, threatened cat’s-paws, tortured, and permanently shut the eyes of more people than I dared to count in order to stop great atrocities against guiltless, purefolk. But in doing so, I had also committed several of the same unspeakable evils myself, and sealed them in the same curse that I had inflicted Double Cross with, breaking the rules against blood magic in the process.
The man was a monster and deserved to suffer for what he did, but was I justified in making his existence a maddening blur of undeath? Perhaps… but I could not undo the past, and he was but a servant for a more diabolical evil, one which threatened the whole of the Earth and all living upon it. By imposing such harsh restrictions on Double Cross, I had indeed lessened his usefulness to this malevolent entity, which would either dispose of him or find new ways to make him serve its plans. I chewed over the memory of the severe wounds I gave him. Now that he was forbidden to die, those wounds would never heal, and would agonize him for the rest of his days until his debt was repaid in full. Would Double Cross attempt to redeem himself? Or were evil men as immutable as the depravity they operated in?
I was so absorbed in my stormy self reflection that I had neglected to pay strict attention to my surroundings. I gave a start as I felt a pair of arms enclose around my neck and squeeze. I grabbed them by the backside and thrashed forward out of my seat, flinging the two of us onto the floor with a muted thud. I reared up and extended a hidden blade, pulling it back with a snarl and ready to promptly plunge it into my aggressor’s neck. Strangely, my attacker let out a distinctly feminine shriek of fear as they held their arms above their face in a protective manner. I was adequately coherent to see through the filmy haze of adrenaline that my attacker was no attacker at all, but was in fact a very shocked looking Lyra, whose golden eyes stared at me with pupils the size of pinpricks. She was dressed in her favorite fir tree colored, recently repaired hoody and jeans. I recoiled away as I beheld her terror, totally caught off guard by my ferocious reaction.
“Jaysus, Lyra!” I exhaled protractedly to calm myself as I retracted my blade back into the vambrace, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I chastise her; inwardly alarmed at how close I was to ending the life of someone I loved over an innocent surprise hug. She must have been hiding under the bed, which I only now realized that I should have checked.
“I-I w-wasn’t expecting you to r-react like that!” She shot back, residual terror evident in her misty eyed face, “What was with that feral display!? I was almost certain I was about to die!” She whined with a pout, composing herself in the wake of our little misunderstanding.
“That… was one of the reasons why nobody who values their health ought to try surprising me, unless they’re in dire need of some new breathing holes” I snapped ill naturedly, displeased that the woman couldn’t try knocking on my door like a normal person.
I winced once I saw her disheartened expression, “Forgive me, my dear heart Lyra” I stood up and offered her a hand, which she tentatively accepted after a pregnant pause, “I’ve been on edge lately, so I’m bound to react to anything sudden with negative results” I’ve had one too many encounters like this not to be constantly on edge.
“Clearly” She commented with a scowl, “Why would you even react like that in the first place? It’s like you became a different person or something!” She threw her hands up in incomprehension.
‘It’s as I feared. I’ve changed… and not necessarily for the better’ I groused.
I rubbed anxiously at the back of my head, “I’ve been through a lot since you last saw me” I told her, “Had one too many circumstances waking up to knives in the dark, hovering just mere inches away from me” By knives in the dark, I had meant the countless cronies and bounty hunters that the Acolytes sent after Starswirl and I during our meaningful sojourn in the Dreamy Vale. The wizard’s wards usually picked up on them and notified us to their presence. Sometimes we fended them off. Most times I just slew them all in a cold fury. It didn’t help that I was cantankerous as all hell when I was refused my right to some sleep.
Lyra just stared at me in confusion, “You’ve lost me Zenith. What exactly happened to you?”
I looked away, “It’s not a tale meant for soft hearts” I warned her.
She huffed indignantly, “And do you take me for a soft heart now? Have you forgotten whom you’re speaking to? I am no stranger to hardship” She reminded me with a fierce, affronted shake of her noggin, “Please, Zenith… allow me to bear your burdens in the way you’ve borne mine” She pleaded to me, hugging me close to her. Her toothpaste striped hair smelled of eucalyptus mixed with mint.
“Very well” I consented, “But I don’t feel like relating it standing up. Let’s take this conversation to the bed” I suggested, clasping her hand in mine.
“Oh…?” She vocalized slyly, “Am I to soothe your woes that way?” Her devious smile made me laugh, which seemed to damper her playful mood.
“Not today, love” I gently shot her down, “There’s only one chair in here, and I don’t think you’d want to sit in my lap”
“I wouldn’t mind” She affectionately caressed my arm, before frowning, “Your outfit feels… encrusted with something… and it smells funny too” She observed with a crinkled nose, attempting to inspect it closer before I sat us down on the downy mattress, grateful for the obscuring dark coloration of my apparel.
“I need to wash it again… questing across a long forgotten realm lost to the past that was teeming with all sorts of dangers around every corner leaves little time for cleanliness” I wryly quipped. Thankfully I myself was more fragrant, since the antiquated guest rooms in the Crystal Citadel hadn’t incorporated modern shower stalls quite yet and I wasn’t hankering to take a bath in a tub anytime soon-ish.
Lyra was stuck between two adorable facial contortions somewhere between disbelief and curiosity, “Questing?” She parroted, eager for me to elaborate.
I did so by asking a question of my own first, “Twilight said that you were at my door this morning?”
She nodded, “Yes, I was. I thought I’d surprise you and show you this really neat Crystal Café I found where we could talk before the games started. But you weren’t there, and Twilight swatted me away like I was some kind of pest” She pouted again, put off by Twilight’s pushiness.
I suppressed a chuckle by disguising it as a cough, “We’re talking now. Though I fully acknowledge that Twilight can be as blunt as a baseball bat when it comes to social propriety sometimes. Don’t receive her brusqueness personally, she’s used to having people do as she says, having grown up in a Royal Castle with servants at her beck and call after all” That’s not entirely true on her part, as the girl had been locked up in her library tower for the majority of her apprenticeship, but I could not have Lyra developing a distaste for a member of the Elements.
She shrugged, “If you say so… but what does this have to do with your ‘questing’ thing?” She inquired with air quotes.
I examined the pattern-less smooth, glass like ceiling as I mulled over how I would go about this, “Between that point and when I returned here, a period of three weeks passed for me. The better part of which was jam packed with life threatening situations and a struggle against an utterly amoral faction that you probably wouldn’t know about if you were history savvy”
She scowled, “But how is that possible? Eight hours hardly translates into three weeks no matter which way you slice it”
I waggled a finger at her, “That’s where you’re wrong, Lyra. Especially if magic gets involved… as it is won’t to do”
And so the next fifteen minutes ticked by as I regaled the bright eyed woman with most everything that had happened to me in my absence, from beginning to end. She was dumbstruck by my discovery of the magical looking glass and I had to restrain her from seeking it out first thing to indulge her inquisitive mind. The girl was absolutely astonished with the idea that there were alternate versions of her world that incorporated elements of mine, like digital technology, and there was this mysterious simper on her face when I described the technicolor ponies that suspiciously resembled the people who lived here in most aspects.
Her cheery smile sagged once I began to go into depth concerning the other details of my journey through time, and had melted into a flat pensive line that could have meant anything. She was aghast that I had to fight for my life and the lives of two others within the first day of materializing in the Towerwoods (I euphemized the outcome of the fight to seem nonlethal. I wasn’t ready for Lyra to comprehend that she was sharing the room with a killer), horrified by the retelling of Tough Cookie’s numerous injuries and poisoning by Hartsbane, and confounded by my tussle with the Grimworts (which she told me had been consigned to legend alongside Merfolk and Pixie people) in the caverns where an ingredient essential to her recovery could be found. To counter her sinking spirits I also sprinkled in the positive parts of my journey, such as my leal steed Night Wind, what kind of man the legendary mage Starswirl was like, along with how Tough Cookie’s indomitable strength had not guttered out thanks to our combined efforts and the skill of the healer Vitalitus.
“Zenith…” She breathed, embracing me and burying her face in my chest, “That’s horrible… you almost lost a friend to poisoning. Were you afraid that you couldn’t return to her in time?”
“Of course I was afraid” I admitted without hesitation, “I was afraid for her sake. I think I was also projecting the face of another of my friends onto her given their striking similarities… so that didn’t assist matters at all, but it did hasten my pace and lend me the resolve to see my mission through” I chortled mordantly as I recalled the last obstacle of the caves, “Heck… I even had to put the hurt on an Ursa Major who tried to stop me!”
At that her eyes became the size of dinner plates, “An Ursa Major? How are you still alive!?” She shrilled, “I still remember the time that two of the village morons brought back an infant Ursa Minor and it wrecked the place! Thank Celestia that no one had been killed!” She invoked the Princess’s name, as was per usual with many Arcanians living in this day and age.
Up went the eyebrow of sarcasm, “Oh, and was the Princess there to save the day?” Was my rhetorical question, even though I already knew how that story went down.
To her credit, she read between the lines, “Well no… her student Twilight coaxed it to sleep and delivered it back to the cave system from whence it came before its mother could notice. It’s just an expression” She snorted impatiently and stuck a petulant tongue at me, “But my point still stands! I’ve never heard or read about anybody disturbing an Ursa Major and coming out of it with a pulse”
I resisted the urge to smile and gloat, “I have. Turns out they have a weakness to magic nullifying metal and daylight. I simply used a combination of both to convince it that I was not some bite sized snack for it to digest” Regardless of my droll fortissimo, it was an uncomfortably harrowing matchup.
She crossed her arms together, “No kidding. Bite sized is an understatement. How big was it? Did you get a good look?”
“I did. Standing on its hind legs, its head would probably crest the top of this Citadel. Dodging that beastie’s attacks was not what you’d call a cinch. The average width of one of its arms would easily eclipse three of these rooms stacked abreast” I used my hands to illustrate how massive the Starbeast was, before realizing that I could do better than that and made a magic hologram based off memory. Lyra beamed like a kid in a candy store as she marveled at the animated depiction of one of the more phantasmal creatures to walk this Earth, prowling overhead. I was tempted to include a hologram of yours truly combating it to further enlighten her to the scale of the Starbeast, but I felt like it would be in bad taste.
Once the apparition faded, she spoke, “What happened after you saved Tough Cookie?” She asked, engaged in my incredible story that took place between her going to sleep the previous night and not half an hour ago.
I was happy to oblige, “Once Starswirl’s friend Vitalitus assured us that Tough Cookie was on the mend, the wizard entreated me to join him on his quest to fulfill an apposite prophecy… one which concerned two young heroines who had accomplished themselves by triumphing against odds both political and malevolent in the North”
The cogs were spinning together in her head, “Did you find out how far back you went in time?” I could almost see the connections being made in that quick witted mind of hers.
“Sometime over a thousand years ago. Well before the nation of Arcania was an official thing, that is for sure” I approximated, unsure of a definite answer to that one.
Timelines here became a bit vague when it came to anything dating over seven hundred years back. This was likely explained by the turmoil that engulfed the newly born Arcania after Discord’s arrival and Princess Luna’s subsequent transformation into the monstrous Night Terror some time later. Historians would lose track of the time or record it inaccurately, so a lot of the events listed in the history books were approximations instead of month, day, year things. It made me reflect on Starswirl’s advice to me, and the ancient adage that one who fights monsters should be wary of becoming a monster themself.
She pinched at her chin, “Were you in Arcania, or another land? If it’s the latter, what was its name?”
“Not Arcania, no. It had many names, depending on who was queried” I rubbed my hands on her back where I had placed them, “My name for it was Precania”
“Clever” She complimented me with a pleased purr as I continued to massage her, “These two heroines… were they the Princesses, by chance?” She hit the nail on the head.
I withdrew and clapped my hands together slowly, “You’ve figured it out… but you are only partially correct” I specified.
The woman frowned, “Partially? They either were the Princesses or they weren’t. There’s no middle ground there”
I clicked my tongue thrice, “Again, Lyra… you’re mistaken. These women would eventually become the Princesses. But before that soon to be covered event occurred, they were just ordinary folk”
“Like you or me?” She gestured to herself before pointing to me.
I laughed heartily for a second occasion, “I was never ordinary… merely myself. Or have you forgotten what you saw in the mirror of my soul and your cabin dresser?”
“I’ll never forget that as long as I live” She murmured something in follow up that was so muted that it was just under the lower limits of my hearing, “What were Celestia and Luna like before became the Princesses?”
“Don’t skip ahead” I lightly chided her with a grin, “You’ll miss the delectable parts. There was a lot that preceded meeting them face to face before their extraordinary ascension into the beings they are now”
“Fine… save the best for last then” She patiently acquiesced, “You mentioned having a horse accompany you on this journey. How was that? I’ve never gotten the chance to try horseback riding… and with all of the hoof traffic that passes through town on their way to the capital, I’ve always wondered”
I hummed neutrally, “It’s a mixed bag. Obviously, journeys that span great distances require a faster mode of transportation than your own two feet can provide… and certain circumstances of a societal breed during those times prevented me from busting out my wings. So having a horse to convey me to where I needed to go was a blessing. Even if Starswirl started grumbling loudly and often about saddle sores after a week of travel” I reminisced with a fond curl of my lips. Queerly, I never was afflicted with those myself. Just an added benefit of being me I supposed.
“I see…” Lyra processed this, “…and you said his name was Night Wind? Was the title for my Snark Knight’s steed inspired by the Princess of the Eventides?”
“If it was, that horse had the foresight of the fates” I humorously remarked, “That was the name he gave me when I first met him in the misty Towerwoods”
“He spoke to you?” Lyra was incredulous, “Since when were you a horse whisperer?”
“Funny, Starswirl was also intrigued by that. I don’t see what the issue is. Fluttershy does it all the time. Though her understanding of their multitudinous dialects of speech is more refined than mine” Her affinity with animals would trump whatever rapport I could drum up with them any day of the week.
“I’ll be honest with you, Zenith. I’ve always envied that of her. Being cursed for the years I was wouldn’t have felt as lonely” She disclosed, “And now I’ll envy it of you too”
“They are simple creatures, not like us… and it reflects in their mannerisms. Albeit little birds can be bizarrely chatty, and they see many an interesting thing in their flights” They’d make for superb spies, if only they could be trained for that. I’d have to consult Fluttershy on that should the need for indistinct eyes in the sky ever arise.
She sent me an indecipherable sidelong glance, “Underselling your abilities the way you do isn’t liable to convince anyone of your modesty, Zenith. You’re a Prince! You should be as dignified and proud as their Royal Highnesses” She asserted, sounding like she was being genuine about it.
I chewed at my cheek in thought, “If I ever do take on the mantle of Prince, it won’t change who I am. I’ve been unbelievably blessed since waking up in this world, though I seldom credit that as much as I should. I have the three defining traits of the Arcanian people that help me to better relate to their livelihoods, I have fantastic friends in my life who legitimately care about me, and I have breathtakingly beautiful women like you who love me… despite my many, glaring flaws” My voice became strained at the end, fighting to remain emotionally static.
At that admission, her eyes became teary, “Of course I love you, Zenith. If you believe yourself unworthy of that, then you are a fool, a rather lovable one I might add. Without you, I wouldn’t even have the vestiges of my old life back. But today, I’m almost back to the point where friends from that lost life recognize me again” She closed the gap between us and pulled me into a heartfelt kiss, taking her time to make sure we both savored it. Her lips tasted of kiwi fruit and coffee, which must have been components of her breakfast this morning.
She moaned in satisfaction as one fiery kiss turned into two, which snowballed into three and four, each kiss more passionate than the preceding one. I knew that we were both sorely tempted for it to proceed further (even a man as continent as me needs release), but I chastely conducted us out of it. Both of us were drained of breath and gazing at each other with an expression that bordered between desire and hunger.
“Why’d you stop?” Lyra protested, although not heatedly, “It’s been a while since our last ‘rendezvous’. And I still… owe you back” Her eyes glinted mischievously as she stole another kiss. Not that I minded.
“Would that we could” I lamented melodramatically, “But if we do that, then I might forget where we left off in my tale of bravado and gallantry versus the vile forces of darkness”
“If you insist” She kissed me again before nipping at my earlobe with her teeth, whispering sultrily, “But we’ll have to continue this at your place in the near future”
She didn’t have to tell me twice, “You can count on it, my dear” I chirped roguishly, “Now where was I…? Oh yes!” I snapped my fingers, “The wizard and I were about to leave the town of Mirrmare and go due north to a place known as the Dreamy Vale; which was apparently the cradle of early Precanian civilization before they migrated south”
She input her opinion, “The Dreamy Vale” Lyra rolled the title on her tongue as if it were a wine of superb vintage, “There’s only a dearth of folk hymns that reference the Dreamy Vale, but I know all of them. It’s always sung about in a heavily mythical, romanticized sense”
My inquisitiveness overtook me, “May I hear one of these hymns?”
She smiled, “I’m glad you asked. It just so happens that I’ve my instrument with me” She reached under the bed and pulled out her namesake Lyre, “I was hoping we could have another music session where we could exchange songs, but I can’t see your guitar anywhere”
“You should have told me that you’d be going to the Games. I would have packed it with me” I said apologetically.
“No matter” She sat at the foot of the bed, tested the strings of her instrument, and inhaled deeply before beginning to sing. Her voice was trained to the height of euphony as her fingers plucked out chords:
“Dreamy Vale, O’ Dreamy Vale, Times of tumult, when hearts were frail, Blood against blood, the hate was strong, None ever grasping that it was wrong, Alack! Enmity and hostility tainted the womb, It brought the ice, and wrought the doom, Yet hope was not lost, it still burned bright, As brilliant as day, as black as night, Twin lights of wondrous display, Come from Heaven to teach us all the righteous way”
I listened, entranced in the lyrics and the melody that Lyra’s dulcet tones commanded. But they were not cloyingly sweet, containing a woeful edge when addressing hardship. The notes from her lyre drifted into the air, feeling all but tangible with every reverberation of the strings. Unbidden, memories of those times flashed before my mind’s eye. Of the flagrant animosity fostered between the clans, in spite of their close blood ties, which would only be actualized in their descendants. But the music also called to mind those people who acted against the perpetual cycle of clan contesting clan, and stood for a higher purpose. People like Starswirl, and the members of the Triumvirate who worked in secret to ensure that the conflicts raging in Precania never boiled over into full blown war.
I would have to read into it more (and likely requisition more untouched primary source records from the Royal Archives) to truly appreciate having a small role in catalyzing a profound series of events. Starswirl must have been faithful to his word, as none of the following songs about the pre-unification era ever mentioned anything about a companion to the wizard who happened upon the Princesses, and my transient figure must have been equally mysterious to them as well. I relished the rare opportunity to blow the minds of the monarchs who had seen hundreds of years with an unsung truth. Strangely, the Acolytes of Chaos were not included in these songs, with all the chaotic credit going to Discord, and those were preludes to songs immediately succeeding the unification.
Lyra finished lyrically regaling me with a commemorative ditty thanking whatever divine providence delivered the Princesses to a people who were otherwise undeserving of such beauty and grace that was as awe inspiring to look on as multihued stained glass and yet staunch and unbreakable as tempered steel. She sung it wholeheartedly as if she wrote it herself. Once the music had died down, she set her instrument aside and gauged me for my response.
“Has anyone ever affirmed how enchanting you are as a musician?” I shamelessly flattered her.
She laughed, a rich peal that bounced off the walls in the room, “Countless times… though an appalling number of them remember it” She snaked her way into my arms as we reclined.
I clasped her hand in mind and stroked it, “I’m overproud to be the unforgetful first then”
She smirked at me, “Spoil me with your honeyed tongue later. For now, I want to hear the rest of your adventures”
“As you command, my lady” I inclined my head to her, “Before Starswirl and I could mount up and make a heading for the Dreamy Vale, we first had to contend with a sudden raid from the Valkyrians, who were searching for him. Starswirl and I devised a plan to deal with the unexpected visitors. I would sneak about town and free the scattered pockets of Agrarian men being held captive by the Skyborn and send them to the wizard to arm themselves and rally underneath his leadership. The Valkyrians were numerous, but not overwhelmingly so, and it would serve as more of a distraction than aught else”
“But you claimed that they were seeking the wizard” She interrupted, “Why would they bother the innocent townspeople?”
I snorted derisively, “Innocence had nothing to do with it, and would do nothing to dissuade them either. The Skyborn were there in force, and would take advantage of Mirrimare’s generous harvests to sustain themselves. To be fair to both sides, the Skyborn’s commander promised that they would only appropriate two fifths of their harvest while extending their protection over the town, and after acquainting myself with her, I dare she say she meant it”
Lyra seemed only to compute an unimportant detail, “This commander was a woman?” She had trouble wrapping her mind around that one. Warfare was an onus left largely to men.
“Well… she was technically their Wing Leader, though I did make out one of her men calling her a Flight Leader too. So I assumed the title was interchangeable” I conceded, “Anyhow, as soon as I freed as many groups of Agrarians as possible without rousing suspicion, I went off to find the Skyborn’s officer in charge and came across something promising in the center of town” I left out the part where her subordinate had almost beat the life out of the town’s official, wanting to preserve her somewhat innocent, ‘people are inherently good’ concept of the distant past.
I segued into the proceeding section, “The Wing Leader herself flew in with her entourage and made terms with town’s official, though the man was not readily inclined to surrender Mirrimare on his clan’s behalf. He cracked under pressure, eventually, and was about to yield the last known whereabouts of my wizard friend when I hopped down from the bell tower to make my dramatic introduction”
“Dramatic?” Lyra let the emphasized word linger in the air.
“I jumped out of the tower and landed in plain sight in front of a sizable portion of her troops” When facing an enemy alone, it’s better to show no fear. It keeps the smarter ones guessing for hidden traps that aren’t there.
“Some would call that brave… others would call it ill planned” She enumerated.
“My hastily forged plan was neither of those descriptors” I held up a edifying finger, “I may have been alone in that moment… but I wasn’t entirely by myself in this venture”
Lyra had a sharp mind for these things, “The blatancy of such an act served as a front to buy time for the men you freed and sent to Starswirl to prepare to oust the invaders, with the added function of keeping their main leadership off balance” She correctly inferred once more, stoking the fires of my admiration for her. I love a woman who can make the same connections as myself.
“If you only you could have seen it, Lyra” I bemoaned, “It was a gambit that merited being passed down orally by bards for ages to come” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that special, but hoodwinking the Valkyrians was sufficient to get anyone’s blood running.
“You do a hammy enough job regaling me with this outlandish adventure” Lyra teased me with a pretty smile, “So you confronted the leader of the Skyborn. What happened after?”
“We exchanged a few words. I discovered that she was bidden by her government’s Senate and her Father to track down Starswirl, whom they deemed a threat to their interests in the region” I had a gut instinct that the Acolytes had a hand in that farce. They were justified to fear the intervention of the wizard, but who could have known that I would be there every step of the way? I surely didn’t.
I resumed my tale, “Maelstrom, as that was her name, decided that I would make a useful bargaining chip to pacify the wizard and sent a couple of her men at me who had been waiting in ambush”
Lyra actually gasped in shock, “They didn’t try to hurt you, did they?”
I chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about me, love. I’m a lot more durable than I look, not that it was necessary. The brutes were as slow in a fight as a herd of snails squirming their way through peanut butter. I doled out more punishment than I received too, and before five minutes were up, they were incapacitated”
“I imagine this Maelstrom character wasn’t too pleased with that” She wryly concluded.
It’s nice for someone besides me to have a gift for understatement, “Oh she was downright furious. But my diversion tactics had already set the rebellion in motion by then, and Skyborn all over town soon found themselves on the defensive. The Agrarians in those days were as hardy as their descendants today, and fought like lions. Thank the Lord no one was killed, but there were some injuries sustained on both sides”
“And Starswirl? Did you regroup with him?” She asked, listening intently. I know I’ve undervalued my skill as a storyteller in the past, but it was admittedly pleasant to have someone hooked on my every narration.
“I did. Though it was a close escape, complete with near misses from several crossbow rounds” I did a C-3PO and magically emulated the sound effects precisely next to Lyra’s ears, causing her to startle before she realized that I was taking my recounting up a notch, “We ran to our horses and mounted up, urging them to make all possible haste towards the mountain, where Starswirl was certain we could elude our pursuers”
I called up more magic based holograms on sheeted landscape of the bed to illustrate our fleeing from a flock of angry Skyborn, drawing the still fresh details from memory. They swooped in on the holographic wizard and myself in practiced maneuvers. Though that didn’t halt the two of us from foiling them with our wits and magical firepower. Lyra giggled as one of the Valkyrians that Starswirl slapped with a non lethal force spell planted his face into the trunk of a tree, comically sliding down into the dirt where birds circled his head and tweeted (That wasn’t quite the case, but it was hilarious none the less). I had to censor a few things, like the myriad of curses that Maelstrom screamed at us as she took aim with a crossbow and made scarily accurate shots at us.
“Sweet Moon above!” Lyra exclaimed, “I had no idea you had such an exciting life Zenith!”
“It has its highlights” I acknowledged impartially, “Events developed for the worse though, as Starswirl’s swift mare garnered a delivery of crossbow quarrels straight to her rear, tumbling to the Earth and spilling the wizard from his saddle” The hand sized hologram of Daybreak stumbled and skid on the grassy ground with a pained screech, and Lyra’s moist eyes hinted to me that she pitied the wounded creature.
“So they captured him? After all that effort?” She breathed, unable to take her gaze off the scene playing out before her.
“That…” I paused from maximum drama, “…was where I had to suspend the rules and get serious” The holographic me, looked absorbed in deliberation before two crimson wings sprouted from his shoulders and he took flight, bound to recover his friend. Dichotomy assembled itself in his hands and the closest Valkyrian got a face full of the flat of the blade, along with the next five stupefied soldiers to trail at his heels, “I landed at his side and carried him back with me to an abandoned mine entrance at the feet of the mountains. The man was coherent enough to advise me to collapse the entry, which I did using his own staff”
“You got to hold the staff of the legendary Starswirl the Bearded?” Lyra gushed in awe, “What was it like?”
I shrugged, “It was just a smooth, wooden staff. Though it did have some amplifying properties that very few objects I’ve encountered share” Like the one strapped to my backside for instance.
“Oh come on!” Lyra was harrowed by my unenthused reaction, “You cannot possibly tell me that holding the staff that conjured a thousand new spells wasn’t the experience of a lifetime!” As a Stellar Mage herself, it was likely that Lyra knew all about the accomplishments of the great wizard and fawned over him just like the bookworm.
‘Which is odd, because I don’t remember seeing any Starswirl the Bearded brand merchandise at her place’ I mused offhand. Mayhaps I wasn’t recalling with the proper effort.
“He was in all respects like any other man, Lyra” I told her with an amused expression, “He put on his robes one sleeve at a time, entirely like you or I” Not strictly true. I once teleported into my clothing after tossing it overhand. A lazy usage of magic, to be sure, but there was no one there to critique me.
Lyra made this aggrieved sound and sulked, “I know you intimately and there still quirks about you that bewilder me, Zenith” She muttered.
“I know… I’m frustrating like that” I confessed unashamedly, “So there we were… immersed in absolute darkness. We successfully evaded the Skyborn and were one step closer to the Dreamy Vale. Before I saved Starswirl’s skin, I dictated to my own steed to go ahead without me. With his ride out of the picture, Night Wind was the only one left that had our foodstuffs and other supplies” I glanced at Lyra, “Can you believe that a jet black Stallion with his name is afraid of the dark?”
“It’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard today” She remarked in a tone as dry as a desert.
“Well it was the truth” I insisted, “Poor guy was shivering the whole way as we braved the bowels of the mountain. His surge in anxiousness is what clued me in to the extended dangers that awaited us in the deep the places of the world”
“Woah, woah!” Lyra held up one of her hands, “Slow down! Did Starswirl simply dismiss the fact that you were a Trifect?”
“No. But we didn’t speak on the subject until nightfall… though it was near impossible to tell when exactly that was without the rising and lowering of the Sun overhead” I relayed, closing the curtains to enhance my point, in response to which Lyra merely rolled her eyes.
It was more maddening an ordeal than she could comprehend, however. The surrounding blackness was like to choke you it was so oppressive. I had to occupy my mind during those hours spent meandering through the murky depths, lest I lose my nerve. People were not meant to be confined underground for too long without the warm touch of sunlight on their skin.
My head sank back into the pillows of the bed, with my ladylove likewise lying beside me, “We agreed that it was getting late and made camp in an icy recess, igniting a fire using some wood that we gathered from the collapsed braces of the mine entrance and hydrating ourselves using a cup that the wizard fashioned out of the ice. Starswirl broke his unspoken vow of silence before we went to sleep, grilling me on who I was and where I came from. I proposed a trade of questions. One for me, and one for him in return until we were equally satisfied. We learned a great deal about the other man sitting by the fireside that night”
Lyra nuzzled her head on my chest, draping a slender arm around my midsection, “And what did you learn? I’m sure the personal history of the wizard must have been enlightening”
“Just so” I agreed, “He was a man of conviction, since he was a lad in his father’s House in the Castle-town of Starwick. Starswirl was of a prestigious family: House Galaxy, whose members advised the highest order of the Stellar Mages”
“The Stellar Council” Lyra filled in, “The mages who would govern the movements of the celestial bodies before the advent of the Princesses”
“Which one of us is educating the other again?” I whimsically commented, “Yes… that very council. Netted Honors aside though, Starswirl was displeased with the way of his clan and their condescending worldview of the other two clans with which they shared the landmass with, and so he sought to rectify it proactively. He used his gift for inspiring speeches to open his brothers and sisters eyes to the wrongness that they were perpetuating every time they so much as disregarded their Agrarian servants. Alas, one of his House’s liege lords heard his ideology and forthwith declared it treasonous. He roughly seized the young Starswirl and dragged him through town before casting him at his father’s feet, notifying him as such”
Lyra’s brow wrinkled together, “I don’t recall reading or hearing about that detail. The history texts just state that he was considered somewhat of an outcast at an early age”
“From the anguish in his eyes when he uttered it, I believe it was a memory that was seldom brought to light” I said sadly, “An outcast he was, aye. And when his father was faced with a choice between preserving his family’s honor and his firstborn flesh and blood, he was readily chose the former. Starswirl was barely a man grown when he lived among the Earth working people living in the valleys under his Kingdom’s dominion”
“I can’t imagine how he’d be received” Lyra remarked, her eyes peeking up at the conspicuous Focal Gem sitting on her forehead.
“Indeed” I concurred, “He stuck out like a sore thumb, and received all kinds of hell for it. The Agrarians falsely accused him of so many things that he didn’t do; spying, stealing, sabotage… even rape” I demurred at the end.
Lyra gasped, “How could they be so ignorant!? Starswirl the Bearded was one of the most noble men to ever change the course of history!”
“People can be ignorant when blinded by hate” I bobbed my shoulders in commiseration, “More’s the pity. He was forced from their midst’s and the cycle of banishment began anew, with him never staying longer than three months in any given settlement, and leaving on his own terms before he succumbed to making any friendships that he would have to someday abandon. He made his coin performing all kinds of magic tricks for the people who otherwise feared their Stellar Mage overlords. He showed them that they did not have to fear his magic, and that beauty could be found even where they’d never suspect it. Like this vibrant jewel of a city, tucked away in all of this snow”
“How poetic” She complimented me with a titter, “So when was he allowed back among his kin? Starswirl didn’t wander forever, after all”
“After the passing of many, many years” I replied, “During which he developed his talent with magic until he had innovated and mastered more useful spells than people older than three of his lifetimes. I discovered from Vitalitus that he tried his hand at other vocations too, like alchemy, but he simply have the… je ne sais quoi that it took, or so Rarity would call it”
Lyra perked up, “The seamstress? How is she, by the way?”
My view drifted to the edge of my vision, “Well enough, I suppose (‘Assuming she isn’t bawling over my disappearance with Fluttershy. I’ll tend to that when needs be’). We started dating not too long ago” Normally I wouldn’t be so open with the status of my relationships, but I felt she had a right to know.
Lyra nodded, demonstrating no signs of negativity to that information whatsoever. I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the polyamorous aspect of this society, “I was contemplating commissioning a few insulated outfits for this season. It gets unbearably cold in my clearing sometimes” She shudder, snuggling closer to me.
I wasn’t expecting that, “What about your hoody? I rarely see you without it”
She smiled shyly, “I’ll still wear it. But I wouldn’t mind a little variety every now and again. The hoody isn’t going anywhere. It’s precious to me… just like you” She pecked at my cheek.
My lip line twitched, as if unsure about what to do with the sudden increase of the feels, “Stop it, you’ll make me blush (‘As soon as hell freezes over, that is’). Starswirl’s skill passed by word of mouth until it incrementally reached his brethren up in their mountains. Good magic tutors must have been hard to come by in those days, since they invited him back home almost without stipulation to train the whelps of the wealthy highborn. He attempted to use his new position to proliferate his ideas by spreading them to the next generation through lecturing, as anybody with an idealistic, scholastic brain is won’t to do”
“Did anything come of it?” She inquired, “All that secretive lecturing on the side?”
I took Starswirl’s scrunched, apparition of a face into consideration as I consulted my memory bank, “With a few students, at least. Clover the Clever being the most notable of them, and his personal pupil moreover. Unfortunately, much of his ideology was rejected… and he had to keep the rest of it under wraps, lest he find himself banished again”
“You said that you traded a question for a question” Lyra interjected, showing me that she had been paying attention, “What did he ask about you?”
“Why I could sprout wings and cast magic all the same, obviously” I summoned them, the intangible yet soft to the touch appendages phased through the bed as I enveloped her in one of them, “There was no conceivable point in lying to him, so I made him aware of the existence of Trifects, and that I was from this world’s future. Being a combination of the three clans he was seeking to unite, you could see why he deemed my company fitting”
She giggled in delight as my ghostly feathers tickled her, “Did you reveal everything to him? Like you did with me?”
“He was struck speechless by one bombshell of a revelation. Any more and I swear he would have shut down from the sheer effort of processing all that ‘never before conceived’ knowledge. It didn’t prevent him from enquiring into the outcome of his grand, prophecy driven quest, but he grudgingly accepted the explanation that all would be work out fine in its own manner” I saw the inquisitive mien on her face and anticipated her, “What prophecy would that be, you might say? The same prophecy that was the reason he was so far north of all the action. The same fateful one that led me to him” I answered, “But that’s plenty of the backstory. You still don’t know about the perils we had stumbled into”
Lyra kept quiet, eager to let me do the talking, “The morning after our meager exchange around the pitiful, half frozen campfire, we set off to examine a lead that Starswirl’s path finding spell had automatically sniffed out in the night. It led downwards into the very heart of the mountain, and it was a foul heart if ever there was one” I burbled, “The air grew rank with the smell of rot as the pathways became less natural and more rudely carved. As if someone had taken a hammer to them without the chisel. The light emanating from Starswirl’s staff could only pierce so far into that blanket of darkness, and it was what was lurking in the blind zone that was cause for concern. With the aid of magic, I took a gander at what we had gotten ourselves into… and what I saw would chill your blood”
Lyra tensed up next to me; excited or scared or both, “Grimworts. Only these were more numerous than a dozen Glowworm Packs combined. It was a frightful situation, to be sure. We were beset on all angles by thousands of the hushed, slavering creatures. I couldn’t see them without the assistance of magic, but after applying it, I could tell that they were all too happy to see us. Starswirl, Night Wind, and me would have made for a lovely snack. The meat on our bones was a far cry in abundance and flavor than any blind cavefish or rotten, half eaten leftovers abandoned by the wolves outside, and there were those who were chittering on about the scrumptious taste of horse flesh. There was no easy way out of this… and the clock was ticking before we would get swarmed. Tick, tock, tick, tock” I alternated my tongue between sound effects.
“You are good at that” Lyra wheedled me, explaining her meaning when I was slow on the uptake, “Setting up suspense and leaving me hanging on every word. I’d almost believe that your doom was sealed if my eyes weren’t telling me elsewise” She poked me in the chest, whether in an act of harmless reproach or checking to be sure I really was there was beyond me.
I shied a tad at her praise, “I’m just relating it to you as I remembered it. Anyways… Starswirl was ignorant to all of this, but Night Wind could sense that danger was close enough for alarm, and it was a hassle reining him in, lest his panic trigger them to attack us. Pretending like nothing was wrong, I mutedly informed Starswirl that we had a bit of a problem. He suggested we double back and sagged in dismay when our circumstances refuted that option”
“Did Starswirl devise a means of escape?” She sucked in air through her teeth as an idea came to her, “A spell of concealment, perhaps?”
“He might have” I allowed, “But if he did, he preferred whatever plan I had cooked up instead. Maybe after what had occurred in Mirrimare he trusted in my judgment. Concealing spells wouldn’t have masked our scent though, and the Grimworts already knew that we were there. If we disappeared into thin air, they would simply fill the space where we had been standing with arrows and our day would have gotten off to a poor start”
Lyra winced, picturing that outcome vividly it seemed, “Were Grimworts really that fearsome?”
I laughed, loud and hard, attempted to justify that possibility in my mind and was not surprised to find that I couldn’t. I’d set my Mage-blade alight and they perceived me as some kind of deity, or at least a being they had the uncommon sensibilities to fear. They were wretches, and they fought and died like wretches. Lyra flushed red with embarrassment, as if she had made a fool of herself.
I calmed myself so that I could speak, “I needed that” I rocked the woman lightly in my arms, “No, love, they were not. Grimworts are fodder to anyone with half a brain willing to fend for themselves. The trouble in dealing with them lies purely in their overwhelming numbers, and even then you could normally take down dozens of them with you. The fact that they can no longer be found anywhere save for nursery tales only supports that belief”
“Oh…” Lyra looked like she felt silly, “I had no idea”
“Be glad you don’t have any exposure to their breed, Lyra. They were some of the filthiest creatures I ever had the displeasure of acquainting myself with, and your nose would take offense to their presence long before your eyes ever did” A flaming sword did help burn away the stench, if only to replace it with the less offensive odor of cooked flesh.
“Can you blame them for their lackluster hygiene?” Lyra put out, considering conditions from their perspective, “They live underground where there is little to no lighting, water sources are no larger than stagnant pools, and they crammed themselves into cramped dens. It’s no wonder they didn’t smell like a basket of roses”
“A valid point” I acknowledged, “But it does not excuse their taste for man flesh nor their atrocious manners. If I hadn’t made the Glowworm pack fear me so that they’d guide me to where the mushrooms flourished, I doubt Tough Cookie would have lived the life she did (‘Urge to research centuries dead historical figures; rising’)”
“I try not to judge too harshly before knowing more about what I’m judging” Lyra stated her philosophy, “But if you claim that these Grimworts were as bad as you say they were, I’ll take your word for it. How did you avoid getting turned into their lunch?”
“I sang to them” I replied tersely.
Lyra snorted in astonishment, “How did that work out? Did it stump them like you’ve just stumped me?”
“I didn’t judge they Grimworts as harshly as you might assume. The tour guide they provided me in the caves beneath the rocky hills clued me in that they had a weakness for song, and would be as entranced by it as I was of your melodic voice” I returned the flattery she had showered on me, grinning when her face glowed a faint red.
“The influential power of music is rooted in magic, Zenith” Lyra told me, “But I’m glad you think so highly of the timbre of my voice”
“It was among the very first qualities I noticed about you, that day we spoke face to face in the park” I reminded her, “I was broodier than usual and you were there to pull me out of it. You had no reason to do so, with your life being in a bad way. But you had selflessly devoted your life to bringing peace to other lives, in spite of that same peace being denied to you”
I rubbed her velvety soft hands in mine as I poured my heart out to her, “I’m honored to know you, and your example of hope in ostensibly insurmountable odds is an inspiration from which I draw great strength. I promise to live up to what is expected of me from you… and from the world that I now call home”
She cupped my jawbone in her palms, “The only thing I expect of my Snark Knight is that he always stays true to his bearing, as I know he shall not be led astray. You mean to be righteous, Zenith… and when our souls became as one, I knew this was irrefragable” She laid a chaste kiss on my forehead.
“If I ever forget, for whatever reason, I will be sure to recall to myself your genuine faith in me” I vowed, “Faith is what motivated Starswirl, you know” I asserted, returning to the story, “He always was going on about ‘the prophecy this’ and ‘the prophecy that’, but he chose to carry out the fulfillment of this prophecy out of faith and a yen to see his people united under a single, unsegregated banner”
“An act of faith, you say?” Lyra’s eyes rolled in their sockets as she mulled over the fallible humanity of the usual Stellar Mage role figure, “And did he ever have doubts about this quest of his, or his ability to see it through?”
Images of the wizard and I cradling the newly made Princesses in our arms replayed themselves in my head, “Not often, but they were there. I cannot speak for his state of mind when he expressed them, but those were extenuating and emotionally charged circumstances for him, so it can be safe to declare those doubts as spurs of the moment” I shook my head, “But we’re unduly skipping ahead. Where were we?”
“You were singing” Lyra helpfully said.
I made a noise with my throat, “Ah, right! It was an apt song too, and I pray that I did it justice. Regardless, the vast majority of those encroaching Grimworts were mesmerized by it, and so they were quite literally blindsided by the explosion of light that erupted from the wizard’s staff. He had mounted Night Wind while the Grimworts were distracted and as soon as they were rendered impaired, rode forward and snatched me up onto the saddle”
My voice rose in volume as though I could feel the blood pulsing through me right now as I did then, “The encirclement of stunned Grimworts proved susceptible to a straight charge and Night Wind rammed them aside like pins in a bowling alley” I’d conjure the sound effect for that too, but that would have been overboard, “We galloped quickly and we galloped determinedly. We had only blinded the initial Grimworts at the beginning of the cavern, while their brethren further in shrieked in fury and scrambled to catch us. Their arrows were primitive, with stone heads instead of iron of steel ones, but they flew truer than either of us would have liked. I had to cut down many of them as they tried their damnedest to delay us, but we inevitably crossed over this rickety wooden bridge and severed it at the end, cutting off their only means of crossing a chasm so deep that it seemed bottomless” And if it was, then the bones of those Grimworts were still plummeting towards infinity.
“How harrowing” Lyra remarked, “And now you had finally reached the Dreamy Vale? What did it look like?”
“A rather picturesque valley partially enshrouded by mists that crept over the mountains like wispy banners waving in the wind. Pines and verdant fields of flowers swayed in the wind and filled the air with luscious fragrances that invigorated the soul” I described the landscape, “There was more to it than initially met the eye, but for the most part that was it. The people of Arcania came from resplendent origins… I had difficultly comprehending why two of the three clans would forsake it entirely and head south” Perhaps the winters were too cold, although the arrival of the windigoes after I was sent back kind of made that a moot point.
I didn’t wait for Lyra’s comments, “Starswirl and I saw smoke drifting from a settlement that was not far from where we had egressed from the mountain. We trotted down the slopes and closer to it before we realized that the smoke wasn’t coming from the chimneys, and we entered into a dreadful scene”
Lyra made a face, “I’m not going to enjoy this part, am I?”
I made no effort to answer that offbeat statement, “The town had been razed, put to the torch. Four of five structures were ash and cinders, the others were smoldering ruins. I dismounted and searched for survivors, but the only person we could find was this adolescent girl, damp and shivering at the bottom of a well” I strained to breathe, “She couldn’t have seen over ten years”
Lyra was silent for a time, until she murmured, “What was her name?”
“Sweet Pea. Though those she lived with had taken to calling her Hemlock, on account of the groves where she would frequently play in” My eyes cast themselves downward, “We gently questioned her as to what had happened to the town, which was named Duskdale. She was engaged in childhood games with her friends when men in grey cloaks rode into town and forced the members of the community to flock together in the square. Sweet Pea’s mother saw an opening and used it, pushing her daughter through the gap and entreated her to find someplace to hide where the grey cloaks could not root her out. The cold water of the well provided an ample shield against the heat of the blaze… though I imagine that it must have been blackened from the constant rain of soot”
“And Sweet Pea’s family and neighbors?” Lyra spoke up, aghast at this dour twist of fate, “At least tell me that you found them!”
“I did” I monotoned emotionlessly, “There was nothing I could do for them” I suppressed the mental picture of the carnage before it threatened to send me into another ignition of magic.
Lyra struggled to comprehend my meaning before she uttered a noiseless gurgle in her neck and sobbed into my chest, her wheezing quaking the bed with each exhale. Her compassionate heart went out to the orphaned child, and I couldn’t pretend to understand the grief that she was expressing for a person who lived centuries before her. I hope Sweet Pea had a happy life replete with purpose. She deserved nothing less for what she suffered. Mayhaps Lyra commiserated with the newly made orphan who lost everyone she ever knew and loved (Save for that gate guard in Oxfort perchance. Maybe he adopted her?). That crushing sense of aloneness, the depression, and for all of it to be inflicted on a child no less! Even in a world as idyllic as this one, life could be unexpectedly cruel. I felt a morbid surge of satisfaction that while her friends and family couldn’t be pulled back from the grave, they were at a minimum avenged.
Lyra wept for another ten minutes or so while I held her in my arms, content to comfort her simply by proximity. When she had recovered, she stared at me with hard, reddened doe’s eyes and asked somberly, “Who committed this terrible act? Who could be evil enough to slaughter an entire village?”
My tone shifted solemnly, “The same men I had met in the Towerwoods. The ones chasing after Starswirl with nefarious intent. I was as shocked at their brutality as you were, and Starswirl was shocked even greater still. We spirited Sweet Pea away from the ruins of her village to the close by town of Oxfort, where we left her in the care of the town’s authorities. From there, we sniffed around for leads concerning the maidens so vital to the prophecy that attracted us there, the most promising of those leads was located at the local tavern: The Ox’s Brew”
Echoes of the raucous laughter resulting from a bawdy joke or the clinking of wooden tankards brimming with beer on each other rang crisply in my mind, “One of the men drinking there spoke about the deeds of the two maidens… whose names were not the same as those familiar to you now, but possessed similar meaning. The last he heard of them, they had settled some sort of dispute between two rival hamlets. The quaffing wizard was elated by this news… and well on his way to a decent buzz too” I sighed as wearily as I did then, “And so a grand scouring lasting two weeks and spanning up and down the vast Dreamy Vale began in earnest. I espied many fantastic sights during those days, and many dangerous ones as well”
“What about the men who put Duskdale to the torch?” Lyra demanded, “Were they brought to justice?”
“Patience, sweetling” I shushed her, “Their time came… and when it did it came down on them with grim finality. Two weeks the wizard and I toured the whole of the Dreamy Vale” I conjured colorful images from memory and cast them into the air above us in a type of slideshow, “We surveyed the results of the two maidens deeds and judged them to be good and born from pure hearts… or as close to pure as it realistically gets” I muttered, some of Celestia’s shrewder manipulations coming to mind, “Some of the altercations they mended were internal issues among the Agrarian folk too obdurate to follow their brethren south. The others dealt with the men who had been putting vulnerable villages to the sword, who called themselves the Acolytes of Chaos”
Lyra inhaled sharply, “They were agents of Discord!?” She spat scornfully, clearly not a fan of the now reformed bureaucrat.
“Yes… and no” I ambiguously replied, “Though the truth of that matter did not reveal itself until the end of those two weeks. The Acolytes harrowed us ceaselessly during that period, with them putting a bounty on us and remitting their own men to do the dirty work when those bounty hunters failed. We never rested easily, even behind the warm walls of Inns… as was what happened at the Inn of the Squawking Bee”
Lyra frowned, “It’s not the name I would have chosen for my business establishment”
“I don’t doubt that” I concurred, “And you would be a hundredfold more honest than the owner of this place, a relatively unassuming woman known as Dew Drop”
“Did she try to hurt you?” Lyra questioned, defensive of me, which I found touching.
“Not directly, no” I extended my hidden blade and held in the air, inspecting it and watching the light reflect off the polished metal, “I was in the middle of bathing when they busted into my quarters, eager to get some knifing done” I retracted the blade, where it slid back into its sheath with a ‘shlicking’ noise, “I fought for my life as naked as the day I was born”
Lyra’s mouth twisted, as if she was envisioning that, “That must have been awkward” She understated yet again.
“When your life is on the line, it doesn’t occur to you the state of how you’ve dressed for it, or the lack of dress thereof” I smirked morbidly, “Besides… people who attack me tend to have an appalling mortality rate, as two of the three men attacking me found out straightaway”
“You slew them in naught but your skin?” Lyra was impressed, “I had no idea my Snark Knight was so capable in close quarters”
“You know a thing or two about my capabilities in close quarters” I contrived a randy jape, “Yes, I was compelled to slay two of them and knock out the third, which was exactly when Starswirl showed up to warn me that we had been sold out to the Acolytes” And was red as a tomato when he beheld my modesty. First he poked fun at my shying away from Tough Cookie’s nudity, but flustered at mine. It was so puzzling that I could feel it tickle my brain. Was there an ancient nudity taboo based on gender that I was unaware of?
“Dew Drop” Lyra growled, as if she had been somehow slighted by Inn owner’s overt willingness to throw her guests under the bus, “Did you teach that treacherous hussy a lesson?”
“I had short but germane chat with her” I affirmed, “It was safe for me to assume that she’d rethought her life’s choices afterwards” Right after she all but emptied her bowels out of fear, “Once that was out of the way, I sat my uninvited guest down for a chat of a disparate breed. He was stubborn, but I was ardent in my interrogation. Before long I had a neat, tidy list of where he came from and where the Acolytes were based in the Dreamy Vale, along with a badge of identification, his cloak, and other personal effects that would come in handy”
“What did you do with the captured Acolyte?” Lyra pondered, “I hope you turned him in to the local constabulary”
“I set him free” I euphemized in a carefree voice, “After I had guaranteed that he would not be troubling anyone in his immediate future. I had what needed from him anyhow”
Lyra looked at me suspiciously, but did not give voice to her thoughts, “So now you have uncovered their base of operations. What were you going to do with that information? Take them on yourself? Or with the wizard to lend support?”
I shook my head fervently, “Oh no, that would have been uncharacteristically unwise of me. Their base’s garrison numbered in the hundreds. Furthermore, I was not the only person offended by the atrocities that the Acolytes had committed” I pointed out, “Starswirl and I had not completely ditched our company back in Mirrimare. Wing Leader Maelstrom had trailed us over the mountains and was combing the Earth for us daily with scouts. I simply tailed one back to their cloudy outpost the next morning. I snuck inside to speak with their commander, possessing this crazy idea that I could recruit her to my cause”
“I’m going to take a wild guess here and presume that Maelstrom wasn’t too pleased to see you?” Lyra dryly remarked, walking a pair of fingers on top of my chest to amuse herself.
“No, she wasn’t” I confirmed, “And I was nearly flung back out before she’d give me half a moment to explain my purpose there. I had sullied her honor with a careless comment back in Mirrimare, so I had to face three of her best men in the ring of honor before she would hear me out. It wasn’t too difficult for me to do. Skyborn men had no idea how to counter proper martial arts techniques… especially when someone of my caliber is employing it against them”
That grabbed her attention, “Martial arts? I haven’t a clue what that is”
“Essentially what I did was analyze their movements in the fight and countered them with an assortment of grapples, strikes, slaps, and using their own momentum against them to gain the edge” I elucidated for her, “It takes a fair amount of skill to master but when you do people are hard pressed to best you in a fair and sometimes even and unfair match. The particular style that I was employing was known as Wing Chun”
“It sounds interesting!” Lyra chirruped, a sparkling glint in her eye, “Can you teach it to me sometime?” She requested.
“If it pleases you” I acquiesced, “Though I pray there will not come a day where you’d have to use it” Never hurts to be ready though, as I knew very well, “Maelstrom’s best men proved to be ill prepared for the likes of me, and in due time I had won the right to be heard by the commander, who slapped me for the slight in substitute” Lyra compassionately kissed my cheek as soon as she’d heard that, resulting in a serious case of the warm fuzzies, “We hammered out the details in her planning room. I made her aware of the threat to the Agrarians in this region and she disclosed that she already knew of their crimes, and was hunting for them herself”
“She hadn’t forgotten about Starswirl it appeared, but she had the good grace to keep that discussion heated on the back burner for later usage” I materialized the memorized image of the map she had crafted ahead of us, highlighting the same areas where Maelstrom had encountered additional villages that the Acolytes had ‘paid a visit’ to, and Lyra’s pupils shrank at the disheartening number of X’s dotting the topography, “Maelstrom was a woman of honor, and was morally outraged at the mass slaughtering of whole villages. She put her charge aside for the sake of justice, and was grateful for the location of the Acolytes hidden base, which was nestled in some boggy woods that were not difficult for her scouts to skip over on their patrols”
“Using the knowledge gained from the captured Acolyte, we devised a plan of attack on this fortification. Using the grey cloak as a disguise, I would pretend to be returning from a successful bounty alone. Behind me Maelstrom’s soldiers would be following on the ground and in the air, primed to rush in at the first sign of the stronghold’s infiltration” I held some fingers aloft, “I would present myself to the guards holding the gate and state my purposes there, they would open their doors and grant me entrance, and then I would pry those doors wide from the inside so that the Skyborn could join me in exacting justice for all those who had been ritually sacrificed like sheep”
Lyra picked out my specific wording, “They were sacrificed? To what end?”
I waved my hand dismissively, “I was getting to that. Pardon the slip” I rumbled my throat, “The plan went off without a hitch. I was greeted by some rather unsavory characters by the entryway, but I dealt with them swiftly and went to work dismantling their anti Skyborn defenses” I wondered why they even had them, perhaps they knew they would be attacked by those who could fight back eventually, “With that task done, I blew the gate off its hinges with a force spell and permitted the entrance of the Skyborn lying in wait. Not that they were idle by any means. They had taken the liberty of setting the wooden palisades outside on fire with rainclouds saturated with flammable fuels”
“The ‘Rain of Fire’ was a legitimate tactic?” Lyra was caught between incredulity and glee before she saw the look I was leveling at her, “What? I was never the most attentive in Celestia’s school for gifted mages, but I did pay attention to the history courses” After a second or two she went shy, “And I may have given myself a refresher reading books on what I didn’t learn during my time under the curse”
An exhalation ripe with merriment left my lips and Lyra thumped a hand on my chest in aggrieved dismay, “I meant no offense, love” I apologized, “I had just forgotten how cute you can be”
“And for that, I’ll forgive you” She declared in her most refined lady’s voice, “Provided you keep enthralling me with this tale of yours” She stipulated slyly.
“As you command” I obeyed, “The fighting was terrible. Bloody business it was. Steel clashed on steel with a noise like a metallic scream, armor was pitted armor as men attempted to outlast the other, and the night was awash in a flow of blood that was deep enough to coat your ankles crimson” My tone was tinged with absence, like I was not really there, “Battle is a terrible thing, Lyra. The singers and some overzealous historians might try to paint it in a glorious light, but the harsh truth is that it’s butchers work, through and through. After the fighting was fought, the air reeked of smoke, desolation, and the fecal matter of slain men who had soiled themselves in death”
I expelled a tired puff of breath, “We were fortunate that our sides losses were so few, in comparison to the two hundred or so men that had been left behind to hold the fort down. The element of surprise gave us an auspicious edge, I presume. I don’t think the Acolytes ever expected that they would put down in their own holdings” I chortled joylessly, “They had lost their rights to be recognized as human though, not after the malignant cruelty they had shown the people of the Dreamy Vale. They were a cancer” I spat, “And we excised them like a cancer”
“You feel strongly about this, don’t you?” Lyra observed, worry trembling her voice.
“Pardon me, Lyra” I said, “The memory is an emotionally charged one. I must tread carefully around it, lest I provoke myself unnecessarily” I inhaled steadily and continued, “We had demolished the main bulk of the fortress’s garrison, but the Keep was not taken. With some spare men that were not weary from battle, we rammed down their doors and stormed it. Those who did not give in, gave out… and the Acolytes were vanquished, at least the ones who weren’t encamped outside of the walls”
“Where were the others? If that wasn’t all of them?” Lyra admirably kept her features neutral, in spite of listening to so much talk of death.
“Gone” I answered, “I led a sweep of the keep after the defenders had been put to the blade and discovered vaults of gold that would serve as valuable spoils for the Skyborn. What I was seeking was just as valuable: knowledge. And there was plenty of it to be found in their master’s personal chambers. I happened upon his journal writings, and scanned them to determine what kind of man I was dealing with here, as well as his plans concerning the Dreamy Vale. What I found within was…” I let the quiet hang in the room, “…disturbing, to say the least. This man… Double Cross was his name; he was merely a power hungry servant of something far more evil… and far more ancient by several orders of magnitude. Its voice was malevolent, and punished even the faintest disrespect with disproportionate fury”
“That sounds ominous…” Lyra subconsciously huddled closer to me for protection, “…and frighteningly familiar” She enigmatically commented, a cold shiver wracking her body.
I filed that note away for later, “His foreboding master aside, he outlined his plans for the Dreamy Vale with pompous pride lacing every inky word. The people of the villages had been murdered to feed his master using some form of ritualistic blood magic. He would siphon off some power himself, but that was neither here nor there. The maidens that were to play such a vital role in the prophecy of unification were seen as a major threat in both his and his master’s eyes, so he had done his damnedest to end them. He had additionally been funding insurrectionist movements, though to what purpose had been vague” Mayhaps it was to cause actual chaos to keep up his false pretenses, or sow the hatred that would summon the icy windigoes, “As is to be wonted of our valiant, soon to be Princesses, they had foiled him at every turn though… and my meddling in their income generating operation in the hills beneath Fogmount had proven instrumental in choking them of the means to further fuel their insurrections with coin”
“And with their base snatched out from under their noses, it was curtain call for them?” Lyra guessed the rest.
“The penultimate nail in the coffin” I morbidly jested, “Double Cross had grown restless with the maidens and had set out mere hours ago with a sizable force of men to apprehend the maidens on a road running lengthwise along a red leafed forest of trees known as the Bloodgrove. They were to establish pickets in the tree line at various points in case the heroines eluded them” Not that they were in any real danger of dying, “After I had extracted what was useful. I exchanged a few words with Maelstrom and gave her a way out of bringing in Starswirl alive. His famous hat”
“He gave you his hat!?” Lyra exclaimed, astounded, “That would be like parting with his staff! Or one of his limbs!”
“Apparently not, since he gave it up without much fuss” I countered coolly, “With the hat in her inventory, Maelstrom could spin a tale to her superiors that she was unable to bring in the wizard alive, who had self immolated rather than suffer the indignation of capture. It was ambiguous enough that Maelstrom honor would not be too dirtied by its telling. Though the woman herself was interested in becoming a part of the same organization that promoted solidarity for all three clans, and I promised that I would relay her wishes to the man with the connections so she could join” I gazed at nothing, with Maelstrom’s ghostly magenta irises staring back at me from the depths of infinity, “We bid each other farewell, both of us knowing that was the last time we would ever see the other”
“You miss her, from the ring of it” The musician conjectured.
“We had an understanding” I amended for her, “And we fought side by side. Certain bonds forged in the heat of battle are as durable and profound as the one’s built over time” I glanced away, “But that was one part of my life that had to conclude, the same as when I parted with a still sleeping Tough Cookie. I returned to the Inn and woke Starswirl, notifying him that his former apprentice threatened his precious heroines evacuated his rheumy eyes in the literal blink of an eye. We took horses from the stable and rode down an obscure path in the Bloodgrove that Starswirl’s ever useful path finding spell mapped out for us. We were late by what had to have been a matter of minutes. The maidens had been waylaid at the first of the checkpoints and had retreated into the safety of the woods, presumably to shake off or separate their pursuers and pick them off one at a time” Celestia’s skill with a bow and Luna’s alacrity with a blade had seen to that task efficiently, “We had to ditch our mounts and follow on foot, as the foliage was too extensive for them to trail blaze without issue”
Lyra’s eyebrow rose, “This foliage was too daunting even for your vaunted Night Wind?” She didn’t seem worried about the Princesses’ safety, although with the answer so overtly obvious I can’t blame her.
“I left Night Wind back at the Inn. I was too fond of that horse to put him in harm’s way unwarranted, not after the faithful way he served us in those two weeks” It’s a shame I had to leave him permanently too, all other steeds might pale (‘heh’) in comparison, “Tracking them wasn’t impossible, as they had left a convenient route strewn with the bodies of fallen enemies. Starswirl did his best to keep pace, but his fitness was eroded by the ravages of age, so I had to press ahead to aid their future Royal Highnesses and protect them from harm”
I sniffed at robes, wincing when the scent of Hydra remained Pungent, “I didn’t stick around long to learn the full assortment of beasties that lived in those woods, but Hydras were one of them. The heroines had made a stand in some ruins from a bygone era as they combated the remnants of their pursuers. Somehow, whether it was the noise, the scent of blood in the air, or if its lair was nearby, they had attracted the notice of an adult Hydra. The four headed monstrosity stomped towards the ruins and upended and uprooted trees underfoot like they were no more than twigs”
Lyra was joining the dots in her head, “You were swallowed fighting by this beast? Whole?”
‘Technically I forced it to deep throat me, but that’s a cleaner euphemism I suppose’ More tasteful too.
I chuckled, “I didn’t give him a choice on how he wanted to eat me. The Hydra’s very presence put the maidens, one of whom was unconscious from a blow to the head, in a position of peril, so I also had no choice but to interfere on their behalf” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, unhooked the hilt from my belt, and assembled Dichotomy. Lyra gaped at its glow with a wide mouthed expression.
“Hold it” I held it out to her for her acceptance, “Feel its weight in your palm”
Lyra sat up beside me and tentatively agreed to take it. Unlike what occurred when Double Cross grabbed the hilt, Dichotomy did not reject her touch. I already knew the answer to this beforehand. My Mage-blade was an extension of myself in the purest form of the conception, and I considered Lyra and I intertwined on a level that paltry words could not do justice.
“It’s so light” Lyra remarked, hefting it in her grasp, “What’s it made out of? This cannot be steel. Even lightning forged metal isn’t so elegant” Her experience with various metals intrigued me, but she’s had a lot of time to herself to occupy her mental faculties.
“It’s Arcanium metal, which is magically polarized” I told her, “Specially forged and folded multiple times and to such a precise degree of refinement that the edge of the blade can nullify anything affected with magic, while the main body is magically conducive. Like the enchantments woven into Starswirl’s shiny staff”
“So this is the blade of a Hero… I’ve never known such a thing, but its neat!” Lyra opined, waving it around like it was a glorified glow stick, “Why is it made out of shards though? Swords are whole… not broken”
“Broken is the wrong term. It’s more of an ease of transportability thing” I corrected her, “Thanks to Rarity’s creative design and forward thinking, I can carry them around in folds in my front robe tassels instead of lugging it around in a conspicuous scabbard” Even though having a highly wrought scabbard for my Mage-blade would be kickass.
She handed it back to me, “How’d you get it? There’s always an exciting story behind the Hero receiving his weapon to stand against the forces of evil”
My lip curled apologetically, “I’d hate to disappoint you, but I happened upon it in the ancient castle of the Royal Sisters while doing an errand for Princess Luna. They were sealed in a chest alongside a bag brimming with precious gemstones and my vambraces. When I brought them to Luna’s attention, she told me that I had the components to create my very own Mage-blade. She also bid me that I name it so we would function as one unit”
There’s a cursory but nifty backstory to how the Princesses acquired the material required to forge their formidable weaponry, related to me by Luna during one of our many private sparring matches. It was bequeathed to them from the heavens (in the form of a meteorite) shortly after their ascension as a useful gift to aid them in engaging their foes, though they would have to wait many years before a smith skilled enough in both magic and metalworking could refine the raw ore to forge into swords worthy of the beings that had governance over the Sun and Moon. Even once they did, it took the man several years of laboring to produce the Mage-blades that would serve their Highnesses in countless emergencies necessitating tactical superiority on the field. And despite that meticulous effort, he could not forge them into complete blades, so they would be perpetually composed of shards that the user could only conjoin with their magic and the blade’s inherent connection to them (A quirk that was hard to elaborate on. They are literally extensions of our very beings, while also separate from us).
There was some leftover ore to forge a third sword (In hindsight, that was probably some sly foreshadowing on the sender’s part), but the Princesses numbered only two at the time, so the fragments were left to collect dust. Coincidentally, that blacksmith just so happened to be the same Hephaestus Hammer Forge whose descendants would go on to found Hammer Forge Industries, which was currently absorbed in incorporating my designs for a breech loading, rifled cannon to replace the smoothbore muzzle loaders presently in service on Arcania’s Royal Naval ships. They were unforthcoming about how far they had gotten to full scale production and incorporation, but Celestia had implied that they would have a workable prototype within the first quarter of the new year.
I remembered Luna’s own Mage-blade: Blue Moon, and how it reflected the Moon Monarch’s personality, cool and composed but with a stern undertone that commanded respect. I had seen Celestia’s Mage-blade but once, during an afternoon in Concordia having tea in her chambers. It was resting on the mantelpiece in a scabbard encrusted with gemstones that were the same colors as her streaming hair, billowing in that invisible solar wind and near constantly veiling one of her gorgeous purple eyes. When she noticed how my gaze had wandered over to it, she giggled musically and asked me if I wanted to see it. I could only nod dumbly at being caught, saving face by masking it with the teacup filled with a special brew originating from the sunny Minosian Isles.
She levitated it over to the tableside and allowed me to clutch the alabaster ribbed leather handle before drawing it out and appraising it. I can recall the warmth it radiated even in my memories, shining with a golden sheen coursing through the fragments that mesmerized me. There were three stylized fullers engraved into the flat of the white blade, each of which represented one of the clans that she had sworn to protect. The name she had christened it with was Helios, and it was sometimes referred to as the Sword of the Dawn. Unlike Luna, she rarely carried it anywhere with her except when visiting with foreign dignitaries and other figures of importance that needed a reminder that the might of Arcania was not a force to be trifled with. Such a habit was a testament to her confidence in her own capabilities and those of the Solar Guard assigned to her security.
“And what name did you impart on yours?” Lyra naturally inquired.
“Dichotomy” I disassembled the blade and slid the individual shards into their fashionable sheathes, “On account of it being symbolic of my two defining natures (‘And my tendency to alternate between them’)” My sword could also split itself into two blades of juxtaposing shades to reinforce that notion, but she had met her quota for mind blows today I think.
“Fitting” Lyra approved with a curt bob of her head, “If the picture you’ve painted of yourself now is any indication” She motioned with her hand, “Go on. How did you escape the redolent bowels of the Hydra?”
“By cutting it open with the selfsame blade I’d just shown you” I traced a line across my belly, “But not before I scrambled its guts and neutralized it. Pity it did little to improve the rancid smell” I bemoaned, resolving to take a French bath later, “I emerged from that dreadful pocket in front of Starswirl, who had known me well enough by that point not to question whether I had taken leave of my senses. We examined the spot where I had last seen them and discovered a mural depicting two characters with stunning likeness to the maidens. Whoever had constructed the site before it devolved into a ruin must have been blessed with foresight, or one of their artists was at any rate”
“The workings of fate must be fickle indeed, all the means were provided even waist deep in a wild locale like the Bloodgrove” I waxed philosophy, “The lingering’s of the maidens magical after-presence were still present, so we used them to reconstruct the scene before the two women ostensibly dissolved into thin air. They were right where I last saw them, with Celestia hovering protectively over her unconscious sister after taking a nasty bump on the head thanks to the blundering of the Hydra I had slain. Once Luna awoke, she began acting strangely, urging her sister to notice the same mural before wending towards a gap in some pillars that had endured the ravages of time”
I wiggled my fingers in the air like I was performing a mundane magic trick of an illusionist or using sleight of hand, “I wouldn’t have believed it had I not witnessed it with my own two eyes, but the moment she stepped between those columns she just vanished. Understandably, her sister cast aside her confusion and replaced it with worry for her sibling, rushing in after her and likewise dematerializing”
“If this plot keeps thickening, it will become as edible as a nice potage” Lyra quipped, but was captivated none the less.
“Speak for yourself. I ate all of this up greedily. Life needs some wonder to spice it up every now and again” I stated, “Before we could test out the invisible portal between the columns for ourselves, Starswirl brought to attention something he had glimpsed on the mural that would have otherwise dodged my notice” I undressed the ceiling with my eyes as I recalled the name for it, “A depiction of the Apex of Apotheosis was etched on that mural, and the two dimensional heroines were to climb to the top for their lunch date with destiny. Evidently, Starswirl and like minded intellectuals consigned the tales of the Apex passed down through oral tradition as belonging to myth and legend”
“So it exists?” Lyra interjected, before explaining herself, “It’s still told to children before they sleep. And why wouldn’t it? Young minds obsess over stories of Heroes with superb mettle earning a place inscribed in the very firmament”
I raised a critical eyebrow, “Your own self included, I presume?”
She smiled innocently at me and lifted her hands, “Guilty as charged. Though today it’s referred to as the Apex of Ascendance” She clarified.
I actuated an appraising squint, “That’s a more accurate description, I’d say. Our conversation over it was cut short however, as Double Cross’s cronies were converging on the site, having been informed by a straggler that the heroines were last seen in the ruins. Starswirl took the initiative and crossed over into the portal, with myself begrudgingly treading behind him” Lyra stared at me funny and I interpreted, “I had a bad experience with a portal once. Didn’t want to risk it a second occasion” I shuddered. I couldn’t decide which I disliked more, the trip to Crystal City, or the mind numbing oddities of the city itself.
I sighed wearily, “Sadly, it was either that, or face down the host of Acolytes alone, so I picked the safer option. Thankfully, this was a user friendly portal and the conveyance was instantaneous. Starswirl was waiting for me on the other end with a smug expression on his features that labeled him momentarily as a backpfeifengesicht in my books, but I was willing to forgive him”
“How magnanimous of you” Her forehead creased, “And since when were you multilingual? And what does that word you uttered mean? It’s sounds like a term that Sturmfolk would throw at each other” Lyra hesitated, probably thinking about the characters who used it, “On second thought, maybe it’s better if I don’t know”
I shrugged, “There’s a few surprises in me that I keep in reserve. Always hold some back in case of emergencies. With any luck, Double Cross would only come across an empty ruin littered with rubble and a few of his dead Acolytes and think they gave him the slip. On the other side of the portal was humble, but had a natural appeal to it. We pressed on via a stony path that had silvery wisps of magic that undulated in a pattern that suggested that we should heed it and traverse it. Using a special magical technique that utilized my intrinsic connection with the Princesses, I could discern that they were doing exactly that”
“Likely they were spurred on by the destiny that prophecy had decreed for them” Lyra’s tone was suffused with the same dry, almost disdainful inflection that mine often had when referencing destiny. My personality must have been rubbing off on her.
“Each of us has a role to play in life” I said to her, “Sometimes we are informed what that is, and other times it is only hinted at. I will always be of a mind to claim that we shape our own destinies, but I also acknowledge that we make our choices in accordance with a grander scheme of things. Perhaps one day it will be revealed to us what that is”
Lyra considered this, “You have profound insight… and that’s a compliment, coming from me. So you and the wizard were spirited away to a brand new, mysterious location and were hot on the path of the heroines. What happened next?”
I smirked as if it were obvious, “Why… we followed them, of course. Starswirl was unshakably determined on meeting these storied maidens before he ever set foot outside the Stellarian Kingdom. Seeing and hearing about the results of their accomplishments in keeping the Dreamy Vale intact whilst also resisting the foul influence of the Acolytes only magnified his yen. He urged me to get a bird’s eye view of this land we had been transported to and I obliged. The sight that greeted me after breaching out of the canopy was that of a heavily forested island, with an immense spire of black and white rock protruding into the air by several hundred feet” I relayed what I had seen. My keen eyesight additionally descried the motionless waters of a placid sea beyond the forests, but I still wasn’t sure if that was truly the case. What kind of island drifted on mirrored water?
“The spire was the Apex, yes?” The musician’s smile promptly soured when she had a realization, “But I get the feeling that it didn’t solely involve a leisurely stroll in the woods”
“No” I confirmed, “It didn’t. All it required was one glance to our rear to see the vanguard of Double Cross’s men advancing on us. He must have somehow known where to find the portal. And if I was a betting man, I would stake all of the gold I possess that he had help from a rather sinister source. Starswirl was still a tad winded from running in the Bloodgrove, so I employed my wings to airlift him to the spire and over the bridge of yet another chasm. On the opposite side, we stood face to face with our enemy”
“Face to face being a figurative term here” Lyra humorously added.
“At that moment, anyway” I foreshadowed, “Having toiled my fair share’s worth of heroics, I let Starswirl handle this one. Gathering magic into his staff, he proclaimed that they would not pass and struck the bridge with all of his magical might. In the first few seconds it seemed like nothing had occurred and the Acolytes began marching over the bridge. That was when whatever spell that Starswirl cast took effect. The stalwart bridge rumbled and groaned in protest before it lost structural integrity, with great portions of it splintering off and reaching its culmination with the entirety of it collapsing, as well sobering number of the Acolytes joining it into the abyss”
“Not ones to celebrate prematurely, the wizard and I trekked up the two toned spire and after the heroines” I stretched out my arms lengthwise to the roof to illustrate the immensity of the Apex, “The spire felt taller than it initially appeared, and the tedium would have settled in had it not been for the marvelous vista, or the not so marvelous fact that the destruction of the bridge had only slowed the Acolytes… as the Stellar Magi among them ferried their brothers in arms over the gap in a collective effort. It did have the welcome benefit of relieving the soldiers among them of their armor and most of their heavy weapons though” It made the task of killing them that so much simpler.
“These Acolytes just don’t give up, do they?” Lyra was unsurprised, “If I hazarded another guess and reckoned that you resumed the heroics and stayed behind to delay them, since Starswirl was the one so adamant about interacting with the Princesses?”
I spared her a sidelong look, secretly touched by how well she knew me, “You’d be correct. I assured him that he hadn’t seen the last of me and beckoned him to depart” I flagged the air dismissively, “You don’t need to hear about the fighting. I will sum it up as this. The Acolytes fell by the droves and found their way obstructed by a chunk of spire that a stray beam of my destructive magic loosened. It was a minor victory in comparison to what I had been doing in those two weeks, but with all of the sudden pressure on me it tasted sweet anyway. My reward was awaiting me at the summit in the form of a spectacular light show. One that this world has not borne witness to before or since”
Hologram magic aided me for the umpteenth instance that day, “When I got to the peak of the spire, I was dazzled by the sight of the heroines, suspended in midair inside of the most ornate archway you’d even seen. Magic that could command the very heavens coursed through them. The skies were alight with swirling auroras and the Sun and Moon both stood vigil over us as if this were a ceremonial rite”
Miniature, transfigured Princesses floated and their forms shifted to match the ones they wore today, “It ranks pretty darn high on my list of wondrous mind boggling displays that I’m not liable to ever see again. It’s a damn shame that the wonder would only endure momentarily” A dark figure in equally blackened robes emerged from the background and cast whatever evil means that allowed him to apprehend the Princesses in a phase locked field, who struggled feebly and were unable to do aught else, “This man Double Cross was nothing if not persistent. While the Princesses were in the middle of becoming… well, the Princesses, he and his men had been clearing the pathway up of rubble and had us trapped between rock and a very perilous drop earthward. We brandished weapons and demanded that he release them, but our threats did not deter him in the slightest. One mass sacrifice of his own men, chanted words, a lazy motion of his hand, and we were experiencing a mana drain so incapacitating that we were as helpless as the Princesses”
“You had your magic drained from you?” Lyra was horrified at this twist, doubly so since she had context as a Stellar Mage herself, “Was it painful?”
My countenance was grim and my mouth tightened, “Excruciating beyond measure. I had expended most of my internal magic fighting his men on the spiral pathway, so that’s probably one of the reasons why his foul powers lost their hold on me after a brief, agonizing period spent writhing on the floor. I barely had enough wits about me to detect that I had achieved a minor revenge when he tried to steal my Mage-blade” And when I perforated him with my Tantō, and vindictively shattered his spine with magic, “It bit at him like a loyal guard dog bites at a trespasser, causing him to withdraw a few feet and reflect on his ‘victory’, and what he would do with all of our power… completely oblivious to my approach”
The silence in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, “And then what?” She finally broke into it.
My lips twitched, “I carried out the prophecy and made an end to him, hardly aware that I doing it” I had remade him in doing so too, but she did not need to know that, “I had no regrets. Two dimensional villains who lust for power and control over being they deem lesser than themselves get what comes to them”
She understood, bless her heart, “And the wizard and Princesses?” She switched the subject, “They were unharmed?”
“Whatever Double Cross did to us only devoured our magic… and while it hurt like hell, it did no physical damage so far as I could tell” I reached into my belt and snatched an empty vial, “I had exceeded the amount of mushrooms that was necessary to revitalize Tough Cookie’s internal magic, so Vitalitus in his extensive wisdom made extra phials and bequeathed them to me, commenting that they might be useful in the future” His prediction took a couple weeks to actualize, and there were minor instances where Starswirl and I were almost forced to use them, but it did.
“It was down the hatch for me and then for the wizard. He complained that it tasted God awful, but I reminded him that being deprived of magic was worse, so he accepted it begrudgingly” The big baby, “Once he was back on his feet, we tended to the Princesses… both of whom were unconscious, so we had to practically spoon feed them the revitalizing agents”
‘What in the world possessed me to sing the intro verse to ‘You are my Sunshine’ to Celestia? This planet is making me sappier than a cut tree in the summer heat’ I groused, borrowing a wordy expression in the style of Applejack.
“Wow” Lyra summarized what she thought of the extraordinary events of my journey in the past, “So you and the wizard not only found who you were looking for, but you got to save the Princesses too! Congrats!” She beamed at me, before lowering the intensity of her expression into a cheeky simper, “Though I expected nothing less from my ever resourceful Snark Knight”
“You keep inflating my pride like that and it’s bound to pop like a balloon” I drolly remarked, “As for how I got home…” My Tantō vibrated like my old cell phone, and I intrinsically understood that it was warning me that this part was private, “…well what does it matter? I’m here, and I’m here to stay. I’ve said my farewells to the past, in preparation for the future. The means to return to your loving arms were provided by my… let’s call them my guardian angels” The Tantō vibrated again, though weaker than before, as if the ancient beings on the other end were annoyed by my skirting of their rules but would abide it.
‘I wonder why they prefer to remain anonymous? Is there a danger to invoking them?’ I mused.
The members of the Congress had all been pivotal figures in life, selflessly devoting themselves to a virtuous cause even in their respective afterlife. Mayhaps their intentions were to have their successors develop into heroes in their own right with limited interference on their part before they did withdraw the curtain. At least, that’s how it went with me. Heck, it was months before I even comprehended what power decided it required me here, if not for Femcord’s possibly deliberate slip of the tongue. On that vein of pondering; the basket case of a bureaucrat and I needed to have a talk.
If Lyra was bothered by my sketchy answer, she didn’t show it openly, “Whatever or whoever sent you back has my thanks” She hugged me, “Perhaps I’ll compose a song of your deeds someday, unless you’re inclined to remain unsung?”
“Your talent with music defines you, Lyra, It’s not for me to dictate what you do with that talent” I landed five lances of fingers on my chest, “I myself am ambivalent to having my deeds celebrated if the occasion fits, but if you wish to honor me with song, then I certainly shall not complain”
I stood up and stretched, sliding the luxurious statin drapes till it was fastened on the rail with a flicker of magic. The sunlight that streamed in through the apertures was dimmer and more pink than orange, heralding to me that sunset was upon us, with Evenfall shortly behind it. Below, people from all over the nation and even remote areas were moving about in crowds, and the vocalized sounds of their enthusiasm or disappointment in the results of the Athletic Games graced my ears. There were far too many of these conversations for me to sift out any mentions about yesterday’s unfortunate event with the ice cloud, but my cynical mindset assured me that the topic was on many of their minds as well. Watching the children of a couple scampering in circles around their parents and making outrageous motions with their limbs as they reenacted what they liked best about the games elicited a wan smile to sprout on my lips unbidden. The antics of the happy family drew me out of my brooding funk, but also reminded me of something very important, an untended affair that I’ve put off so long that I should have slapped myself.
Spinning on my heels, I turned away from the wall aperture and past a bemused Lyra, who had been observing me with that same shrewd stare steered sidelong at me when we first met in one of Magiville’s peaceful outdoor parks.
“Zenith?” She spoke up concernedly, “Is there something the matter?”
“Yes” I told her, “I’d like to have the room to myself please”
Lyra shot up from the bed in surprise, her eye alight with fear, “W-why!? Have I offended you? I’m sor-”
I shushed her by closing the distance between us and pressing a finger to her lips, before affectionately replacing it with my own. She squeaked at my swiftness but after half a heartbeat began to mirror the gesture, “This has nothing to do with you, Lyra, nor can any fault be ascribed to you. There is…” My voice was hoarse, “…an issue that I must attend to alone”
She nodded forbearingly, “I understand… it’s about time I got out of your hair isn’t it? Oft-times I forget that my Snark Knight is a busy man, and not alone for me to enjoy”
“Before you go” I retracted a drawer of my nightstand and produced a crystal from it. I focused on it and channeled my magic into it, imbuing it with that which I believed Lyra might enjoy. Five seconds later and the crystal was inscribed and laden with energy. The musician peered at it inquisitively before looking at me to explain myself, “I thought I’d get you an early Christmas present, before my duties engendered me to forget” Let it never be declared that I was an inconsiderate beau.
She titled her head to the side, “Christmas?”
I had an answer prepped ahead of time, “In this world, the nearest analog to it would be Hearth’s Warming. Though where I came from we celebrated it for entirely different reasons. Gift giving is the only constant the two holidays have in common. The latticework of the crystal is indited with Tycho, who is the artist behind that music you identified as exquisite. Just interlace your magical field with it and you should be drifting down a river with a chilled fruity drink in your hands, as if you hadn’t a care in the world” I instructed her, having ‘programmed’ the crystal to be malleable in the commands it was receptive to. I figured she would appreciate music that could soothe body, mind, and soul.
She held my gift to her as if, “That’s sweet of you” She flashed her teeth at me in gratitude, before her expression became naughty, “And when can I… unwrap my present?”
Somehow I doubt she meant the crystal, “Come the week of Hearth’s Warming, I suspect” I stroked at her hair, “We’ll speak again before the month is out. I’ll never neglect my obligations towards you, nor anyone dear to my heart” I swore to her, before grinning, “Take care, Lyra. And dress warm… it can get bloody cold out there” I jocosely japed.
We parted ways, one of us with merriment in her heart and the other with resigned solemnity in his. I returned to the task I had set for myself before mollifying Lyra of her undue apprehension. I ambled over to the corundum desk where I had popped a squat before Lyra ambushed me with her ninja hug, reaching for my adventure pack and stuffing my hand inside to rummage around for the only item in the world that would aid me for what I wanted to do. Mutely cursing the sheer amount of space that the enchanted pack contained, my hands brushed against anodized aluminum and I muttered a satisfied ‘ah ha!’ and I fished out my laptop. Even in a world where magic was largely favored over technology, I had never ceased using it, especially as it retained that wireless connection that kept it from being a glorified calculator.
Flipping up the screen and pressing the power button, the machine came alive with a classic chime and the background of an incredible battle in space greeted me, complete with dogfighting starfighters spitting multicolored, streaking death as they weaved betwixt capital ships with scored ablative armor firing a mighty broadside above a planet below with leagues of its surface glassed and rendered barren. That final detail being a grim reminder of what would occur should I misuse the power that the Congress awoke in me. Putting the disquieting thought to the side, I checked to see if the supernal beings had kept their word as I tapped on an icon meant for surfing the Internet.
Sure enough, the connection was upheld. News pages for the events taking place back home showed up in the newsfeed (same old business as per usual, from what I could discern), so I wasn’t entirely in the dark about what I was forced to leave behind. But… it was my choice to stay where I was in the present, where I could do some good. Before a minute had expired, all the means of contacting what few friends I had made along with my family were on the screen and awaiting my input. I leaned back in my seat and pondered just how I would accomplish this.
Before I was given a new life in a new world, I was not what one would describe as gregarious. I spoke little to anybody when it wasn’t mandatory and even those familiar with me noted that I was leaning heavily on the reserved end of the spectrum, which was atypical of the majority of members in my family, both on my mother’s half and father’s half. I would often garner flak for it at large family gatherings where I was more content to linger in the background doing my own thing rather than socialize. This was compounded by the fact that I was the only child; certain commitments were expected of me. But my family had sparse choice but to tolerate my quirks, as I was too pigheadedly stubborn to change them. They loved me, flawed, reticent creature that I was… and still am, and that was sufficient for me.
I owed them more than just ‘Hello, mother, father. Hope you’re well. I’m not dead, just off gallivanting in another world. Kay, bye!’ So I took my time in composing my only goodbye, being wary not to go into too many specifics about where I was or what I was doing. They’d probably attempt to track it once they got my message, but even if they were to unveil the transmission source, it would be a dead end. I was additionally aware that my message would be unsealing wounds that could only now be in the slow, painful process of scabbing over, but this was a perforce burden that all of us would have to shoulder regardless.
By habit I was not a man of many words, at least privately, but for one of those rare occasions in my life I made an exception. I typed an honest account of my life and how I spent it with each person, apologized for any wrongs I had committed and was too obstinate to admit to, and firmly stressed my love for them. I could not bring myself to envision how they would take to this final notification from their lost son. It’s probable that they would wince internally as if it was the thunderous hammering of the ultimate nail in the coffin ringing loudly. A fifth of an hour had passed and by then I had compiled enough of a farewell letter to my kith and kin that a manuscript would have been the apposite term for it. My hand was oddly calm and unshaking as I reached for the button to disperse the collated digital texts. With an ordinary push of a button, they were sent… and a defining chapter of my existence was brought to a close.
A solitary tear ran down my cheek, leaving a warm, salty stream in its wake. I didn’t doubt that I would have hiccupping fits if I didn’t steel my breathing. The only tear I would ever shed over this, “I’ll miss you” I whispered with a faint croak, allowing the emotions to bubble to the surface and have their sway before gently capping the lip of the laptop, neutralizing my unruly emotions, and pushing them into the depths of my soul to remain repressed forevermore. Such was the price of being this world’s champion, a price that I was willing to pay without a second thought.
‘Life was boring back home anyway. Too much tedium’ I told myself to lessen the residual pain as I wiped the tear from my cheek with a sleeve.
It was made easy thanks to my penchant for being emotionally hardier than most, but I had to be careful to ensure that my unspoken strength did not prove an even greater weakness. If I went overboard with it, I would subconsciously start shutting emotions off for every little issue, and that was just as jeopardizing as being overly sensitive. Stoicism was like balancing the tip of a knife on a high-wire suspended above crucial functions, which was always swaying perilously in the winds of life’s daily troubles.
It didn’t take a clock to notify me that I would miss my rendezvous with the Princess if Twilight wasn’t too busy making googly eyes at that Flash Sentry guard to deliver the message herself. I would have knocked on Rarity’s and Fluttershy’s room to assure them that I was fine, internal hang-ups notwithstanding, but I reckoned that they could wait just a tad longer. Shutting the door behind me noiselessly, I strode down the halls until I found a balcony with unrestricted access to the sky. The Krystal Kingdom was short staffed on Skyborn to patrol the airways, but with the recent grand events, they’d likely see an influx of people willing to move here.
And why shouldn’t they be tempted to set down roots? The Crystal Heart only grew in its positive influence the more people were around to sustain its love permeating nature, with made it difficult to feel like you had a bad day here for the uninitiated. More power for the Heart means a nifty expansion of the climate control barrier, and it couldn’t hurt them to obtain land that could be turned into farming fields or urban sprawl. With enough people feeding it, this Kingdom could very well grow to look like a legitimate Kingdom. Of course, there was also the matter of its official inclusion into the territory of Arcania. From what scant conversation on the subject that I can recall, that bet that I won for Celestia in the sparring ring meant that the Krystal Kingdom would at the very least become a protectorate of Arcania. Shining Armor protested that it would be annexation, but that word was saturated with negative connotations. The Krystal Kingdom was not conquered by anyone save for Sombra (and mostly because the bastard used black magicks against the mainly Agrarian population. Talk about overkill), and he’s in no position to conquer anything ever again, let alone his own destruction.
A momentary trek through the corridor and adjacent to a sharp right curve in the hallway was an outlet in the wall that led out into one of several tiny balcony slash oriels that dotted the lower levels of the citadel. They weren’t designed for much beyond offering a view outside. They had no chairs for casual lazing, they were only wide enough for two people to stand abreast, and would disappoint any stargazers looking for a crisp view of the night sky due to the light pollution emanating from the streets drowning out most of the stars’ splendor. Since none of these drawbacks were any concern of mine at the nonce, it mattered naught to me. I was fortunate that I crossed paths with no one who would recognize me, so my desire for a low profile was met.
Grasping the handles of two folding wooden doors that kept the entrance secured and the outer wall seamless, I flung them open and a cool evening breeze caressed my face, blowing strand of greasy, sweat matted locks of hair on my head. I’d kill for a relaxing bath (and have killed for it after one, in fact), but could not afford the luxury of that right now. The setting sun meant that Celestia was actively guiding it beneath the horizon to make room for her sister’s moon, which shone as beautifully as polished milk stone as it peeked over the boundary separating earth and sky.
I scanned the streets below my feet for activity, finding little of it. Evidently, the Krystal Kingdom had yet to implement a fun night scene for people to stay awake for. It was a common theme that I had taken for granted, and never meditated on until then. The people of Arcania were largely beholden to their Princess of the daytime, and only a few seemed to prefer nocturnal habits. It was discouraging to the point that a seed of jealousy had planted itself in Luna’s heart, and every night that went by appreciated by few watered that seed until it sprouted into a constricting weed that would become known as the Night Terror. The closest I had gotten to confronting that evil was the larger than life statue of it that had persisted in the decrepit ruins crumbling in the Neverfree. Why Celestia had commissioned a reminder of the being that had almost imposed a permanently fixed day and night over the hemispheres was beyond my comprehension. Perhaps it was made to serve as a reminder of what could go wrong even under her vigilant nose.
Satisfied with my findings, my wings extended sideways and I gave them a few experimental flaps to make sure that they were in working order before I took flight. The Crystal Citadel was by and large the tallest structure in the Kingdom, and would undoubtedly remain so for as long as it was the seat of Princess of Love’s power in the North. The Kingdom itself lay at a peculiar juncture that expedited the transportation of supplies to isolated snowy mining settlements like Yuema, which dug deep into the mountains to unearth precious minerals like magically conducive crystals, hard substances in the form of iron, copper, tungsten, and other raw materials that fueled much of Arcania’s formidable industry. I haven’t seen it for myself, but the books in Twilight’s treebrary supported the claim that Arcania was the most technologically and magically advanced nation on the planet, though only by a few centuries from what I could tell. Special cases existed where other nations would produce something that Arcania had never conceived (such as Gryphondrian guns and black gunpowder), but this nation had an affinity to taking new ideas and improving upon them, as I hoped our progress with the ‘covert projects’ was proving.
Ascending to the summit of the citadel was such a simple action that it made me lament all the time we had lost when Daring and I were plumbing its metaphysical ‘basement’ before clambering up those innumerable stairs to reach the apex. The fleeting act of thinking about the cocksure woman caused my already strained heart to ache. It was a good pain though, if that made any coherent sense. It bolstered me with the indisputable truth that I loved her, headstrong maverick that she was. I missed her something fierce, and would think about her often, asking myself if she was safe, if she was having any success uncovering these dire Shards of Sheol that had to be recovered before they could detrimentally fall into the wrong hands, and if she was similarly thinking about me. Even to this day, it tickled my humor that I could fall for one like her, and even more so that she could fancy someone like me. A lot of women in this land found attachment to me a straightforward process, and it made me wonder how much of that was swayed by the magic that made people living here slightly more emotional, and how much of that was fairly won by my ‘oh so lovable’ personality.
I alighted on the rigid surface of the citadel’s ‘roof’, where Daring and I first happened upon a projection (I knew that it was a hologram because it wasn’t there now) of the Crystal Heart showing us the way to recover Sombra’s ornate yet tainted Crystal Chalice. Curiosity led to a mental tangent on what Cadence had done with the Chalice, but common sense told me that she would have stowed it out of sight in a secure location isolated from the other relics in the depository if she was wise. With Jomar a ward of the Krystal Kingdom (one of my better decisions, I’d say), he would have valuable insight for Cadence on how he, his brothers in arms, and his employer gained entrance into the Citadel so stealthily.
The Sun’s descent and the Moon’s dominance in the firmament gave the impression of being rushed, as the partially obscured satellite was nearing its (if you’ll pardon the expression) zenith. Up here the lights coming from the crystal houses, cafés, and other places of business weren’t so over-illuminating, allowing for an unsullied perspective of the evening sky. With the Athletic Games at its terminus, people were heading back to the hastily established hotels to rest up from the return trip in the morning. The train lines had yet to implement railway turntable that permitted two way travel back and forth, but work had been initiated laying down a second set of tracks for that very utility. Now that the Krystal Kingdom had made its presence felt by the whole of Arcania and even the known world, it had a rather profitable economic future in its fortunes. The indigenous folks living here might have some difficulty adapting to the gradual yet imposing changes, but with capable people like Crystal Clear and Princess Cadence leading them, I had hardly any doubts that they would cope just fine.
The platform with the snowflake emblem stamped into the floor where the phantom Heart once floated glowed faintly, lighting up the outline as energy from the actual Heart below the citadel coursed through the building like a conduit, pulsing every so often like a living heartbeat. The pylons surrounding the Archroom (as I’ll refer to this special area from now on). The aperture in the ground leading from the endless spiral stairs Daring and I were painstakingly forced to climb wasn’t here, and no amount of tapping my heels over the spot where I could have swore it was would reveal any hollows. Giving up my nostalgically motivated scouring, I gravitated to the center of the Archroom and sat cross legged on the snowflake insignia that was representative of the Krystal Kingdom. I practiced some breathing exercises to calm the storm of thoughts and misgivings raging in my head and conjured the Sound Sphere to aid me in this endeavor, cueing it to play ambience from the Towerwoods to settle into the tranquility before switching to ‘Time after time’, which felt loosely appropriate for some inexplicable reason.
I hummed in contemplation as I took note of something interesting. The drain on my mana reserves from casting the Sound Sphere spell was so infinitesimal that it was negligible, whereas in the past it was a noticeable decrease. I closed my eyes and did that soul searching technique which first helped me make that connection with the font of magic within me. Before I had likened it to that of a lake, peaceful and serene with waters as smooth as glass. When I made contact with it this time though, an ocean seemingly without fathom stretched out before my third eye, stealing my breath away. It was as strikingly beautiful as it was bountiful. Inexorable waves of magical power crashed against my senses, stirred on by buffeting winds that swirled and spun like miniature twisters, and beneath that frothing sea…
A faded warmth like the gloaming sun touched my sixth sense and drew me out of my before I could delve further into the magical wellspring within me.
“Zenith…? Do my eyes deceive me?” Came the whispered, awestruck voice of the Sun Princess, as if she couldn’t believe what was right in front of her. I wasn’t aware of when or how she got here, mayhaps she teleported, or flew up here like I did.
“Your eyes are reliable, Princess” I assured her as I regarded her presence, “At least the one that isn’t curtained by that majestic hair of yours”
The statuesque Princess of the Day looked as stunning as ever, wearing a chiton like outfit with immaculately white fabric falling down her body in snowy cascades. She sported golden cuffs wrapped around each wrist that would have shone magnificently if the sun had still been out. The tiara atop her head was the third variation she had in her inventory of royal apparel, with diamonds and gemstones that matched the color of her irises encrusted into the ornate metalwork as it danced in serpentine lines between her animate hairline. Her feet were clad in supple leather boots in place of the usual calf length sandals. Overall she was the same comely woman that was given the mantle of Sun raiser, with the only difference being that aged gleam in her eyes (The visible one anyhow). She was older than last I saw her, wiser, and cautious because of it.
My nigh petulant brand of humor had her relieved, as evidenced her sigh, “Only you could jest at a time like this. And I’ll have you know that my hair does not impede me in any way” She clarified, “Where have you been? When Twilight came to me about your absence I sought you myself, but all of my locating spells failed me” She sounded aghast just reflecting on it.
I didn’t see the big deal, “So? You make it seem as if your magic failing you meant something grave”
She glared all but balefully at me, “It does… The only people I know who cannot be found with scrying spells are either ones shielded by unspeakable evil or are dead. Which one were you?” She demanded, very much serious. The dual voices of Cyndi Lauper and Rob Hyman dancing in the air mitigated its austere edge though.
“Neither” I answered carefully, knowing that Celestia placed emphasis on security before heartfelt reunion, which I respected. Still, it chafed a bit to held under her scrutiny, “Is that any way to greet your enigmatically shrouded savior? The one who handled the Hydra hell-bent on turning you and Luna into lunch? The one who ensured that Starswirl was there to bear witness to you and your sister’s ascendance?”
She stared at me blankly before my keywords prompted an old but unforgettable memory to her mind. When it clicked with her, those lovely eyes grew wide and she took a few startled steps back, “You are the one who inadvertently set us on our path? You’re the Starwalker?” She spoke as if she somehow intrinsically knew this, but was still astonished. It was a fancy way of putting it; since the name was a pinch above arbitrary when I said it to her before taking the portal home. Home… the more I refer to this world by that term, the more I feel comfortable with believing it.
I gave her a long, solemn look. My turn to be serious, “I have much to tell you, Celestia. About where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, and what I’ve done”
Celestia handled her shock with good grace, and composed herself in a wink, “We will have to make it brief. It appears as if a certain friend of yours is preparing a welcome back party for you in the Citadel’s Great Feast Hall” A small smile curled on her lips, “That should have been my first clue that my worry was misplaced”
“And my… actions… in the stadium yesterday?” I fished for info on that which had been tickling my curiosities since my return.
She waved a dismissive hand, “I’ve dealt with the Press, both foreign and domestically comprised. You are classified as an Agent of the Crown, and therefore off limits to further inquiries. Most of the reporters were within dangerous proximity of the Ice cloud, so the majority were content with that” She scowled just a fraction, “I won’t begrudge you for your valiance in the field, though the timing was ill, as it is wont to be”
“I felt it prudent to let you know…” I paused, gathering my courage, “I’m no longer as averse to standing beside you and Luna as rulers of the state as I was before. I’ve… changed, shall we say”
She nodded, “That’s encouraging to hear, Zenith. Though your earlier reservations had me rethink how your position could best serve the prophecy. As a fully fledged Prince of Arcania, you would be tied down with ropes of black ink more often than not. And some disputes cannot be settled with quil-… pen and ink” She corrected herself, getting with the times, “By remaining as an Agent, you would be free to act”
I could see where she was going with this, “Like Daring Do?”
“Just so” She agreed, “Though you would in addition to that be invested with political authority, to speak with Our collective voice in matters of politics. However, I ask that you consult with me first before making any assertions that might put Arcania in an adverse spot” There was an slight undertone of humor somewhere in there, but it was mainly sober.
She glanced up as the night sky and spoke softly, “The balance of power in the world is shifting Zenith… ever so subtly. Faint ripples of disaster here and there that herald the downpour of greater catastrophes yet to come. We must avert as many of them as possible, and stanch the wounds they do create… or we will all drown in blood”
I groaned and stretched as I stood to my feet, “It’s too early in the evening for such grimness… Celeste” I called her by her first name.
“There hasn’t been a person to utter that name to me in over a millennium, Zenith. You, Luna, and I are the only living people who know of our origins” She exhaled tiredly, “Speaking of which, it would not do to keep the others waiting” She approached me and the focal gem on her forehead began to glow like a pint sized sun, “I trust you remember the mind delving spell?”
“Clear the storm in my head, yes?” We had done this on enough occasions that the act of emptying my head of thoughts was routine by now.
She reached out and clasped my hands in hers, and a sudden fear overtook me, “I must warn you, Princess. Some of the memories you are about to see are not pretty”
Her visage remained unchanged, “Zenith” She leveled with me, “I have come to accept that a lot of questionable things must be done in the name of the greater good. It rarely justifies them in your heart of hearts, but I’d rather live with a tarnished conscience than live with the weight of ten thousand preventable deaths on my soul simply because I hesitated to do what the situation called for” She tightened her grip on my hands, as if to reassure me, “You are a virtuous person, Zenith. I’ve seen it in your heart and in much of your actions. You were chosen to keep safe the innocent, and those who dwell in the stars weigh their choices with unmatched foresight”
I was honored, “Your faith in me is inspiring, truly”
She gazed intently at me, “Starswirl once shared the story of a prophecy with you, and faith was what saw it through to realization. I have much to share with you as well”
I did not understand, “What do yo-”
She silenced me by unexpectedly pressing her lips to mine as her focal gem erupted in an explosion of multihued light, and the world around me became an unintelligible blur as the colors and shapes shifted and writhed. I was swimming in them, my mind as incoherent as a guttering flame as I was left adrift in the oddly nostalgic tide. Sights, sounds, smells, tactile sensations, and even tastes; all of these assaulted my brain with a rabid frenzy and it was all I could do not to be overwhelmed by the information overload. After ten minutes or ten hours of withstanding the mental barrage, the stream of information gradually slowed and I could glean lucid facts from it. The first of which was that of a woman with auburn hair and a loving smile that could melt the hoarfrost on your clothes and brighten your heart. The next scene was standing over a cradle of a newborn, squalling babe before peering inside. The crying child ceased its bawling and looked up, seeing something pleasing before giggling and clapping her little hands together. I realized that I was viewing Celeste’s childhood before she became a roving heroine alongside her sister.
I noted with interest that while there were plenty of scenes with the woman whom I assumed was her mother (including one where she and her mom were sharing a slice of cake, the flavor of which was delectable even in passing), there was never a man in the house. If this bothered the youthful Celeste, none of her memories showed it. The scenes fast forwarded a few years and illustrated the development of the two sisters. Celeste was your typical girly girl, playing with dolls and hosting tea parties with delegates that were represented by dolls (she started this diplomacy thing young), while her tomboyish sister swung a wooden sword in the yard and dueled with shadows (Though one memory had Celeste practicing with a hunting bow and nailing targets at a hundred yards). Her sister and she had a strong relationship, though they had few things in common when it came to hobbies. Their village was tiny, housing no more than a hundred people, all of whom Celeste knew as if they were extended family.
The years flew by almost as quickly as the memories of those years themselves. The teenaged Celeste and Selene grew into distinguished members of the community, making many friends and following in the footsteps of their respected mother. Their lives would have been comparatively normal had the status quo continued, but Fate had other ideas in mind for them however, and their village was contested on some territorial farming claim by another, larger village (Fertile farmable land was scarce where they resided). Celeste and Selene were sent to treat with them as their now deceased mother had done in the past. The trivial parts of the memories blurred from there and I found myself (or Celeste found herself) being held captive inside some kind of room along with her sister, who was struggling furiously against her bonds. Harsh, menacing voices could be heard beyond the thin wooden walls as men debated what to do with their captives. This memory was so fresh that I could taste the salty tears running down her cheeks as she fumbled hopelessly with the tightly woven ropes that kept her hands lashed together.
Where she failed with meager attempts, her sister had succeeded in tenacity, knocking over the chair and squirming over to a table that held the horrific tools of the interrogation trade. The voices outside rose in volume as men shouted at each other, acutely embroiled in a heated argument. This allowed Selene to repeatedly bump into the table until a serrated tool fell over the edge, which Selene awkwardly used to fray the ropes tying her hands until she could break free of her own strength. She tore off the rag keeping her mouth gagged (she had been unrepentantly vocal about their dishonorable captivity and ensuing uncivil treatment, while Celeste was quiet as a church mouse and therefore didn’t suffer the indignity of gagging) and spat angrily onto the floor, mutedly cursing the men who imprisoned them after they were came to appeal to them in good faith. She scavenged what improvised weapons she could find and freed her sister, thrusting what must have been an icepick into her hands (Celeste was too appalled to even glance at the object, so I had to judge what it was based on the weight in her palm). Selene appropriated a fire stoker with sharpened spikes as a primary armament to defend herself and waited in ambush by the door.
The yelling had died down by now as the defending party was outvoted and outyelled. Heavy footsteps plodded in their direction and Celeste’s heart stopped in her chest. The door slammed open and three burly men with alcohol on their breath and malevolent intent in their eyes entered the room, advancing on a backpedaling Celeste. Selene waited until the last man was through before hopping onto his back and slashing a flaying knife across his throat, issuing forth a red spray like a fine summer wine. Celeste’s stomach lurched and she emptied the contents of her breakfast onto the floor, consequently dropping her only means of protection. The two men cursed and drew their weapons, though Selene was on them again before they could do much with them. The flaying knife she lodged into one man’s groin and immediately crossed sword with stoker versus the other man as the injured thug moaned on the floorboards and cradled his ravaged goodies, the pain proving too much for him to endure as he went under with an unmanly whimper.
Skilled as she was, fire stokers were an inadequate match against iron forged swords, and Selene was slowly losing ground to her aggressor as her makeshift weapon chipped and disintegrated during the furious exchange. She was inevitably backed into the wall as her opponent hammered away at her, eventually knocking the remnants of the poker from her grasp and nicking the flesh of her cheek. He chortled darkly as the tip of his sword hovered menacingly over her sibling’s breast, sadistically prolonging the apprehension of her doom on the point of his weapon. When Selene twitched to persist in resisting, the man slapped her with the flat of the blade and seized her by the throat and squeezed, suffocating her with his hairy paw. Somewhere in her gut, Celeste understood that she could either do what needed to be done in order to save her only sister, or watch her die at this unwashed brute’s hands. She chose the former. Snatching at the dropped icepick, she rushed forward to plant it down to the hilt in the man’s leather jerkin covered back, causing him to drop his sword and roar in pain as he reached behind himself to yank it out, glaring pure hatred at Celeste as he vengefully stumbled towards her with a blundering gait.
He opened his mouth to growl his malicious intentions when the discarded sword punctually emerged from his mouth, its point dripping red with blood as his eyes rolled back into his head. Half formed words transformed into gurgles as the last man standing was neutralized. Celeste would remember this moment forever, as the light in the man’s eyes extinguished like a blown out candle and he thudded unceremoniously onto the paneling in a heap. Did this man have a wife and child that relied on him to put bread on the table? Why did he and so many living here harbor such reckless enmity to her and her sister? She didn’t have long to reflect on this though, as the stark form of her sister laid hold of her by the arm and they made their escape before others could notice the bodies of their dead kinsmen. Celeste’s thoughts were all over the place as she and her sister inconspicuously made for the stables where their captured steeds were housed, mounted them, and galloped hard for home.
The scene they came upon during their homecoming was the opposite of what they would have hoped for. Half the village was on fire and armed aggressors from the same village they had just escaped from were slaughtering the other half. The men defending the village fought bravely against such gloomy odds, taking two men with them for every one of theirs that fell. But numbers proved to be their undoing, and by the time that Celeste and Selene stood on a high hill overlooking all of this, it was too late for them to intervene. Every person from their old life that they had ever known was gone, slain by jealous neighbors who wanted land that they could have easily shared instead of spilling blood for it. Deep down, something in Celeste twisted and churned, and her once fragile heart hardened until it was the equal of tempered steel. She vowed that never again would she permit atrocities like this from ever taking the lives of the innocent while she could do something about it, and her sister vowed similarly (Though with more venom in her tone).
The memories blurred together again as Celeste and Selene ventured south into the main body of the Dreamy Vale, starting small and doing services for villages and towns (Fetch and grab stuff, delivering messages, escorting shipments of grain. They were real mundane jobs for starter heroes, expedited as soon as the men working with them got over the fact that they were female). This way they accumulated wealth while also learning the state of affairs between those towns and villages. A year or two passed and Celeste and Selene had garnered themselves a repertoire of being reliable members of society, as they had been previously recognized in their humble village.
Town Reeves often and frequently relied on them for diplomatically important roles as they made alliances and enemies out of the other towns in an overarching game of political machinations. It was a ponderous game with steep consequences, where the winners would enjoy expanded territory and harvests, and the losers would enjoy starvation and death. Celeste adapted to this game like she was born to it, making careful acquaintances and useful contacts that would enable her to manipulate her own piece on the board. Her sister had no patience for the finer nuances of the game, but was Celeste’s number two, serving as her bodyguard and confidant as they set about to change the world, one town at a time.
Most satisfying was when Celeste had managed to maneuver a strategically superior town against the village that had decimated their own (which was not challenging to pull off, as the larger towns were always paranoid of the villages that grabbed for too much power too quickly and were more than happy to police them into subservience), though Celeste had the decency to request them to absorb them into their holdings instead of annihilating them outright. However, the orchestrators of the assault on the village of their birth were to be hanged from the nearest trees like morbid tapestries till their faces turned as black as their hearts and the crows feasted on their eyes like they had feasted themselves on their fields. Securing both justice (vengeance?) and closure for the extended family that they had lost, the two heroines further cultivated their reputation as traveling altruists with the rare talent of holding their own in a fight and negotiating peaceful solutions to the problems plaguing the settlements of the Dreamy Vale.
I knew the rest of the tale from there, and the replay sped up as if in response to that sentiment. Celeste and Selene found themselves faced with a new and duplicitous enemy in the form of the Acolytes, who would fund insurrections in any towns that they could not pit against each other. They were the sisters’ most difficult adversaries to date, and put both of their mettles to the test. Celeste would do all she could to keep relations solid between settlements while Selene would slice and dice anyone who tried any funny business with a blade. Celeste’s skill with a bow was a huge part of the reason why they had prevailed in the Bloodgrove with such lopsided odds stacked contrary to their favor. Standing still, her accuracy with the bow was nigh pinpoint. And on the move she could hit vital spots dependably like a pink haired Legolas. One of her memories had her piercing the thighs of three belligerent men with a blazing time of two seconds.
She had an interesting style to her bow-play, nocking arrows on the right side and speed shooting them by fisting the arrows in her knuckles for a fast draw. Her sister’s talent for swordplay was likewise impressive, and she could slay a man twice her size in half the time it took her to peel a potato, having learned where the unarmored joints and tendons were for maximum crippling effect. I would have uttered a pensive hum if I could. The Princesses were formidable warriors in their own right many months before they ascended. That I could win two out of five sparring matches (one out of three ended with a pratfall on my part and Blue Moon leveled at my neck. We had become something of an attraction for the off duty Guards in the training yard) with the Lunar Monarch was a testament to my own ability with a blade.
The penultimate series of first hand memories were of Celeste and Selene making their way down the Rugdale road after having resolved a dispute in the selfsame town. Grimworts were making incursions from their hollows to raid northern towns, claiming that they were provoked by the humans into subsistence motivated violence (Especially after their connection to the main nest had been cut off by yours truly, which they used for trade chunks of wild game for barrels of cave fish). So Celeste and Selene were to either negotiate some kind of peace, or burn them out with assistance from Rugdale’s poorly armed militia. Celeste recommended negotiation, as was her preferred stance, while Selene favored extermination with extreme prejudice, having no patience for sniveling wretches like the cave dwellers.
The memory terminated before I could see which was the chosen course of action, and the next memory was so well preserved that I felt the displaced air of a crossbolt quarrel sail by my ear and partially embed itself into the trunk of an ironbark tree. The subsequent shots took their horses in the chest and legs, disabling them and forcing Celeste and Selene from their saddles as the fight was upon them. Men whose faces were obscured by woolen cloaks of grey screeched a shrill battle cry as they rushed out from the brushwork to attack the two of them. Selene unsheathed her sword with instinctive reaction and Celeste rapidly nocked an arrow and sank it into the neck of one of the crossbowmen, who posed more of a crucial threat than close combatants in her book. The afflicted thug choked on his own blood as it burbled out of the wound with each weakening pulse of his heart. Celeste had learned to go away inside when it came to sordid matters like these.
Celeste barked a command to her younger sister and both of them retreated, melting into the thickness of the tree line. They knew that they were badly outnumbered and could not win this fight standing toe to toe with the enemy. Celeste’s expert usage of her Spritewood bow was nothing short of masterful as she danced between trees and over fallen logs, sparing measuring glances behind her before risking time to stop and loose an arrow into the vital zone of an Acolyte. Selene was lagging in the number of men she felled while they were sprinting like the wind, but would do as I did for Starswirl and keep their attention on her so that her sister could do the heavy lifting with minimal interference. The bushes and trees thinned out as they came into a glade, stony ruins poked over the grassy horizon and Celeste’s first instinct was to lose their pursuers in the maze of collapsed columns and decrepit walls. Failing that, they could bed down and use the solid stone structures as cover from the remaining crossbowmen.
The coordination the two sisters shared wasn’t quite to the level where they could anticipate each other perfectly, but Selene understood the expression on Celeste’s face and shadowed her footsteps, narrowly evading another crossbolt that would have pegged her in the shoulder had she not sidestepped. Celeste glanced behind to do a mental check on the enemy’s numbers; four and ten, each of them winded from the harrowing chase. Celeste guided a hand into her thigh quiver, nocked her bow, hopped into the air with a half spin, and loosed a duo of fletched arrows, lowering that count by two. To her side, Selene had duped one of their nimbler interceptors into nipping at her heels before she used a boulder overgrown with moss to backflip behind him and shove a sword past his leathern armor and into his heart, stilling it forevermore. With their immediate foes vanquished, Celeste and Selene were given a transient break to catch their breath as they ensconced themselves into the weathered shelter of the aged ruins.
The lull was short lived, as their confrontation with the Acolytes had drawn something far more menacing to their position. A stentorian roar crackled across the sky and sent every bird within a mile’s radius scattering. A distant tremor could be felt in the earth before the thumping grew increasingly more forceful. Trees were uprooted with a groaning creak as they were torn asunder. Even after all that she and her sister had prevailed against up to that point, Celeste’s blood chilled at the prospect of tussling with an adult Hydra. The scales that lined its body, which could deflect everything short of hefty stones lobbed by siege weaponry, augmented its already intimidating size. To Celeste’s regret, they lacked for that heavy hitting equipment at the provisional time. The only good news was that this latest menace had nabbed the Acolyte’s attention and prevented them from scouring the ruins for their hiding spot in a partly collapsed recess. Whoever was leading them gave anxious commands to send word back to their leader while the rest of them would do what they could to hold it off. Vile as they were, the bravery of the Acolytes could not be put in doubt, for they foolishly charged the one enemy they could not hope to defeat with fanatical fervor.
Celeste winced when those shouts of courage swiftly graduated into screams of agony, as men were taken into the many jaws of the Hydra and their bones were crushed between its teeth like a mastiff with a juicy bone to gnaw on. Selene did not mirror her disgust, wearing a viciously vindictive grin on her face as one man howled for his mother, his shout cut off halfway as a pulpy crunch signaled his demise (And very likely his dismemberment too). Showing that she retained a heart even for her enemies, Celeste nocked an arrow and darted out of the ruins where she could locate a decent vantage point, ignoring the perturbed calls of her sister. She clambered up a pillar using grooves in the eroded stone as handhold as she lifted the combined weight of her equipment, armor, and gear. When she got to the top, she beheld the creature she would be fighting versus, paling at its immensity. This was without hesitation the largest foe that Celeste had loosed an arrow at, the projectile bouncing harmlessly off the scales of the third head’s eyebrow. The damned beast didn’t even seem to notice the pathetic attempt, too occupied was it with chewing its bloody food.
Wordlessly mourning the cruel deaths of the Acolytes, Celeste jumped down from the pillar before the Hydra could gain awareness of her presence. The woman’s heart leapt into her throat when she saw her only sister running along a raised walkway with sword in hand, believing that she could succeed where she had failed. The coin that her sibling had spent on getting a rare, traveling Stellar Mage to enchant her blade with enhanced sharpness obviously paid off, as she caught one of the more ignorant Hydra’s necks outstretched and just asking to be lopped off. With a savage roar, Selene struck true and cleaved through scale, flesh, and muscle. The Hydra gave a surprised shriek and glowered concentrated hate at the one who would dare harm it. The injury that she had gifted it with began to broil and bubble as two newborn heads burst forth from the wound, barely waiting a second to dry before they lunged at her precious sister.
She leaped out of the way with just a hair’s breadth of space to spare, the shock of the blow sending her soaring into a pillar and rendering her insensate. Celeste stifled a wail of dismay as her sister had narrowly avoided the ignoble fate of being turned into paste. She hurried to her side and kneeled, examining her for broken bones or other signs of damage. Celeste looked up at the monster looming over them with three of the heads presenting a predatory baring of their teeth. Knowing that there was little she could do and unable to abandon her only family left in this life, Celeste shut her eyes and waited for the end. Only that end never came, as a high pitched whistle in the wind surged in proximity as an undistinguishable blur whizzed through the air and through the necks of the three heads who had turned to appraise this newcomer. Whatever or whoever it was, they wielded great power, for they sliced into the combined consistence of the three necks as if they offered the same resistance as a bowl of Pease Porridge.
Celeste murmured a muted thanks to their savior as they drew the Hydra’s ire off of them, and urged her sister to awake and make their egress from the blasted ruins. Selene’s eyes drowsily fluttered open, and there was an imperceptible film glassing them over. ‘These ruins are sacred, and hold many secrets, though only one is meant for us’ She whispered, shakily getting to her feet and trudging over to a faded mural that Celeste had not had the time to take into account before. It depicted two figures of women who looked remarkably alike to themselves performing acts that they had accomplished and some that they had never done. But how could that be? These ruins had to be centuries old at the least! This intrigued Celeste, to be sure, but she could not understand what it had to do with them. She was about to bring this up with her sister when she felt the woman tap her on the shoulder and aim her finger at an unobstructed space between two columns that appeared as if they had been carved yesterday.
Her sister was not making any sense, and when Celeste tried to wring comprehensible answers out of her, the only replies she received were ‘We must go. They call to us’. Without responding to any more of her inquiries, Selene wandered into the space and disappeared like a cloud of mist boiled off by the sun. Worry for her possibly concussed, dematerialized sister had overridden her innate sense of self preservation as Celeste followed her into the unknown, materializing on the other end in an unfamiliar place with her sister leisurely strolling down a path with undulating strings of light highlighting its edges. Celeste’s fingers twitched above her quiver and her grip on her bow was white knuckled as she scanned for danger. Seeing nothing perilous at the moment, she rejoined her silent sister, who refused to speak no matter how severely Celeste prodded for some explanation as to what had possessed her to act this way.
Celeste gave up and shifted towards gleaning that information using her own senses, wildly expecting to find it in the trees that were clearly not of the Bloodgrove, of the earthy scent in the air that was not of home, and in the eerie stillness in the atmosphere that alarmed Celeste about as much as it soothed her frayed, battle weary nerves. Celeste had no stomach for being the braver one of the duo, preferring to maintain a distance from her targets and strive for ways to exploit them from afar. Selene was her opposing counterpart in this preference, automatically willing to get in close and personal with her problems, and she often cleaved them in twain if they proved particularly bothersome.
But her sister was only half with her in that forest, and Celeste was at her wit’s end trying to hold herself together. She needed her other half, she was not afraid to admit that. Her sister complimented her as the Night complimented the Day, as their mother had told her once… those sorely missed, invaluable memories that could have been lifetimes ago. What would their mother think of them now if she were still living? Would she be proud of them and what they were aspiring to be? Or appalled at the things that they had to do to appeal to their moral sensibilities? Celeste could not bear to dwell on that vein of thought for a second longer, and devoted herself to monitoring for threats to their mutual health. For a bemusing change, nothing was amiss that could jeopardize them. Nothing was hunting them here so far as Celeste could discern, and they had surely given their pursuers the slip when they plunged through that portal.
Having convinced herself that it was unnecessary to be so high strung in that forest, Celeste allowed herself a rare moment of peace, and was greatly relieved as the calm atmosphere of the woods seeped into her and rejuvenated her spirit. The rays of sunlight that poked through the canopy kissed her cheek with the tenderness of their mother, and her chest throbbed when she conceived how short lived their childhood was and how quickly she and her sister had to grow up, especially in the preceding years. Maturation took to tragedy like crops took to soil watered with Earthblood from the Springwell hamlet. Celeste was an ardent fan of that big, bright ball in the sky, though her sister was more of the nocturnal persuasion, as could be expected of her. The path opened out into a clearing with an earthen bridge spanning a gap that was so black that it seemed bottomless. Celeste was not one to let heights frighten her into inaction though, and unswervingly crossed the divide alongside the blood of her blood, who had yet to break her trance like state of mind.
To pass the time, Celeste idly wondered about the figure who had intervened on their behalf, or she presumed it was on their behalf, given how most of the Hydra was focusing solely on them. Selene would doubtless take umbrage if the motivations of the figure were to save the ‘damsels in distress’ archetype that she despised so much, though having a gallant suitor to be her champion was ever a secret yen of Celeste’s. A harmless one that she had never confided in anyone, not even with her sister. Their collective pledge to act as peacekeepers meant that they seldom had time to even entertain the idea of romantic relationships, let alone seek them. Even if they did, their culture did not cast proactive women like Celeste and Selene as favorable life partners for the typical man. A typical man of the Dreamy Vale was essentially defined as a workhorse, plowing the fields (the raunchy euphemism using those words included), sowing seeds (innuendo also included), standing sentry on the walls, and acting as armed escorts for merchant convoys delivering the choicest reaping’s of the harvest. Women on the other hand were valued as affectionate caretakers, tidy cleaners, and culinary artists; with their place in the manse raising children alongside their good-sisters, should they take the same groom to wed (An increasingly popular practice. With all the men lost in bloody squabbles, the traditional two person union was becoming rare).
This musing about her abnormal lifestyle distracted Celeste more than she would have liked, but for some reason she could not help herself. She prayed for that noble person’s continued well being, and furtively appealed that they met her innermost wishes as a bonus should they encounter each other in the flesh. Perhaps he would be tall and valorous, with a smoldering gaze that would mesmerize her and melt the stress from her body as he cradled her in his arms and whispered sweet everythings in her ear, yet would share her ideals about making the world a better place for people to live in. Celeste felt the heat rise to her cheeks as a blush formed unbidden on her face. ‘A girl can always dream’ she sighed to herself in a mental voice that sounded exactly like her. If I still had a mouth to reflect my opinions on this grand recollection of her early life, I imagined that it would be twisting in wry amusement right about now. I had never experienced this side of the Princess before, and the revelation that she was a regular Juliet on the inside was both delightfully charming and humbling. It affirmed my belief that beneath that stately exterior, the Princess was still a woman who wanted to be loved for who she was.
With the bridge crossing put behind them, Celeste forbearingly let her sister take the lead as they wound their way up the spiral pathway of a massive stone spire with the oddest two tone coloration that Celeste had ever seen. Upon closer inspection she could make out symbols and sigils in the rock that were too flawless to be engraved or chiseled in by the hands of men. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of it, but trusted in her wits and whatever mysterious power was guiding her sister, and therefore herself in this unprecedented and most certainly unanticipated quest. Celeste did not care much for surprises, having been always duly informed of the situation before she immersed herself in it. The last time she had went into a trial blind; she was made to watch her home burn to the ground. She resolved to never act spontaneously unless spontaneity itself was part of a larger scheme of her own conception.
It may have been Celeste’s rampant imagination, but she could have swore that she heard someone shouting some kind of declaration at the bottom of the spire, which meant that they were no longer alone. Selene picked up on this too, and raised her pace before they could be hampered. The summit of the spire presented itself forthwith after a few minutes of augmented ambulation, and the sight that awaited them was so incredible that Celeste’s breath froze in her lungs. A majestic, lush landscape spanned the expanse before them, exhibiting a flattish concentration of Flora that just did not occur in the notably mountainous terrain of the Dreamy Vale. The view was only half of the majesty though, for an archway with the most elaborate workmanship stood over them like a solemn giant, waiting to impart its wisdom on a listener worthy enough to hear it, like in her beloved mother’s bedtime stories to Celeste before her sister was born.
Before either of them could investigate the arch further, the sculpted and intricate lines woven into the Heavensgate lit up and a sphere of blinding light coalesced in its center, forcing Celeste to hold up a hand to shield her eyes. A combination of voices complementing each other and keyed in impeccable Harmony called out to her in her head ‘Come. Do not be afraid, Celeste. We have much to discuss with you’. Selene must have been similarly addressed, for she was functioning of her own accord again and instinctively looked to her elder sister for instruction on how they should proceed. Celeste’s mind randomly turned to disheartening lack of Mana Marks present on their hands, which was something that many people had unkindly pointed out time and time again (After the first fifty occasions of being laughed at, the two had worn gloves). What made them so special that an ordinary return trip from their usual business could switch into the most confounding day of her life?
Even with the benevolent voices’ reassurance, Celeste intuitively feared the uncharted frontier glaring right at her, and her feet felt like leaden bricks tied to her ankles. It was then that one of their mother’s axioms came to mind ‘The baby bird does not know it can fly, even if its parents do, and it will never know unless it takes a leap from the nest. All it needs is faith, the rest is inborn’. It felt comfortingly apposite to this, and Celeste took heart in that. Turning to her sister, she smiled nice and wide, and took her first steps towards her Destiny, which was far beyond anything she could envision for herself. Unexplainably, the memory panned out, as if it was in movie mode. Shadowing Celeste was her sister; the latter’s shade casting itself in a vaguely sinister (and gut wrenchingly familiar) shape for just the fraction of a second. It was taller than its owner, exuded impure ambition, and had practically skeletal wings jutting from its shoulders… unequivocally like the Night Terror.
I would scowl if I could, ‘How could I have seen that? Celeste didn’t look back in the memory’ The literal foreshadowing here was so intense that it boggled the mind.
The memory was curtailed from there, rudely denying my curiosity to her meeting with the Constellar Congress. Apparently I was not privy to the conversation between the Princesses and the Constellar Congress, which would mean that the same would happen to Celestia in my own head. The forbidden memory caused havoc with the overall flow, and they appeared as swiftly as they vanished like a fine mist (One thing was certain though. They no longer lacked for Mana Marks). The dominating emotions and sensations attached to them were likewise accelerated. The first was amazement and a yearning for the mystery savior that the wizard refused to disclose even a sliver of specific information about (Starswirl honored his promises, even when questioned by the pivotal Heroines that would realize his dreams of a united people), then a chill that bit so harshly that I could feel myself shiver even in its phantasmal wake. The sensation after that was annoyance at having her world turned upside down (I think this was meant literally) and a firm resolve to employ the bejeweled Elements that the Watchers in the Stars guided them to in order to put an end to the finicky chaos that was besetting the freshly colonized land.
A short period of peace imbued me with equanimity as she and her sister toiled towards ensuring a prosperous future for the newborn nation of Arcania, balancing political relations between the three clans (No easy feat, given how badly the Skyborn and Stellar Magi abused the Agrarians. It was noble of the Princesses to distance themselves from their Agrarian roots, judging disagreements between the clans with an impartial stance). That fleeting period of peace abruptly shattered when I felt myself consumed with a mixture of heartbreak and sorrow as Celeste’s own flesh and blood betrayed her, declaring that the Night would rule forevermore… and that the Sunraiser was obsolete, coupled with a potent blast of magic that rocked Celestia off her heels and sent her careening into a wall with a sudden stop. Even her bodily hurts paled in comparison to the sheer pain racking her heart. She was forced to make an impossible choice… either forcefully oppose the only family she had left with the very real possibility of slaying her, or condone her domination over the heavens and the unjust treatment of her people. With how much of an upgrade Luna got giving into the Darkness, I did not envy her selection.
Celestia vowed that she would do everything she could to stop atrocities being committed with innocent people caught in the crossfire, even if the one committing those atrocities was her own sister. The Princess was no fool. She knew that an eternal night would devastate not only her fledgling country, but also the whole planet. The lack of sunlight would cause the cessation of the growth of the lion’s share of the crops that kept people and cattle fed. The functioning of Ecosystems would be disrupted as nocturnal creatures over competed with the diurnal ones, who were not adapted to living in such conditions. The overview of what could happen could be summed up as complete disaster.
Celestia unsteadily rose to her feet as she let her magic suffuse her being, her body radiating light like the Sun as she prepared to make war with her unruly sibling. She had donned an imposing facemask that disguised her expressions, but Celestia knew her well enough to see that she was fully devoted to snuffing out her lurid lights out. The Princess internally cursed herself for being so blind to the turmoil raging inside of her coregent of the firmament. Her sister had been acting strangely in the past, brooding on the moonlit balcony as she watched their subjects sleep with a deep-set scowl on her face, and no matter what Celestia tried to do to restore her spirits, all of her attempts fell flat. She had oft taken to secluding herself in her tower and reading forgotten texts and tomes whose content should not have been taken lightly, what if some eldritch power leapt out of the pages and possessed her into taking up arms against her sister?
No, it would not do to meditate on this now. Celestia was facing the next great threat to the serenity of the sovereign nation that was Arcania. The castle servants would have doubtlessly witnessed their ‘disagreement’ and would be raising the alarm outside the castle. The people residing immediately under their protection would flee for safety, so there should be a minimum of collateral damage. The… thing that was once her sister saw her rising to the challenge and boomed laughter, as if she was mocking her resistance. It was a dark, terrible laugh that had no place emitting from her sister’s mouth, and it both tore at Celestia’s heart and reinforced her resolve to neutralize her. She tried to reach her sister by calling out her name and pleading for her to cease her destructive actions, but the being standing across from her scoffed, proclaiming that Luna was no more… and that the Night Terror would last as eternally as the night itself.
The newly christened Night Terror used her magic to tear out a sizable chunk of the castle interior wall and hurled it at her. Celestia dodged and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the stony projectile as it crashed to the floor. The Night Terror followed that up with a storm of magic projectiles that were imparted with disturbing accuracy and brawn (stray bolts caused unbelievable damage to their castle, blowing holes in the ceiling and weakening support columns everywhere they struck), though Celestia was capable enough to deflect them aside with her own magic and tossing bolts back at her. This trade of magical fire went on for what felt like hours, though in reality it had only been ten minutes. Seeing that she was not going to defeat her this way, the Night Terror challenged her to settle this dispute of theirs with Mage-blades, and unsheathed hers from the scabbard that was constantly affixed to her hip. Celestia regrettably did so with hers and they rocketed forward at the other with grim determination. The Princess of the Sun was no slouch with a sword, though in her heart she would always be a bow-woman. Regardless, the being that was once her sister retained her sibling’s skill with a blade and slowly pushed her back. The scenery of their clash gradually shifted from the throne room to the tapestry strung (many of which were woven by their grateful subjects as tokens of their sincere gratitude) hallways of their castle.
By then the guards had heard the commotion and were rushing inside the hallway where they were dueling. Celestia screamed at them to withdraw, but the Night Terror would have none of that, fracturing her blade (which had taken on a shadowy aura, like it mirrored its user’s corrupted state) and delivering those fragments into the bulk of their combined mass at high speed. Celestia’s anguished heart had renewed reason to cry out in pain as the shocked guardsmen gaped at the bloody holes in their abdomens before sinking to their knees and dying, killed by one of the very Princesses they had sworn to defend. Fragmenting her own blade to intercept her sister’s attack, Celestia roared in righteous fury as she tackled her enemy to the floor and planted a fist into the facemask covering the Night Terror’s features, causing hairline fractures to appear on its surface. Before she could land another hit, the Night Terror threw some kind of magic cloud in her face that seared at her eyes and blinded her momentarily, giving her the opening she needed to shove her off. With Celestia preoccupied clawing at her eyes to disperse the spell, the Night Terror seized her in a telekinetic field and lobbed her down the hall, sending her smashing through the oaken doors and tumbling down the stairs of the castle courtyard.
The Princess lay dazed on the floor, her vision swimming and hazy, though she was coherent enough to recognize the multicolored gemstones resting in place on the stone pedestal that had served she and her sister so many times in the past. Though the blow had rendered her without breath in her lungs, Celestia was gladdened by the Night Terror’s carelessness, for she now had the means of defeating her outright and possibly without the need to fatally subdue her. Celestia recovered quickly and stood upright, scrambling for the pedestal and placing a hand on it. Sensing her presence, the Virtuous Elements that registered with her started to glow: Generosity, Kindness, and the six pointed gemstone that represented Magic itself. The other gemstones remained inert, as they had belonged to her sister. ‘I beseech you, lend me your aid, or all will be lost’ Celestia had begged aloud… hoping against hope that they would hear her prayers and respond. A moment heavily laden with oncoming despair passed before the remainder of the Elements: Laughter, Honesty, and Loyalty (‘Loyalties change’) lit up and began to thrum with power.
The Princess let out a relieved sob as they floated off the pedestal and encompassed her. The gemstones were not sentient beings themselves, yet they had a bizarre understanding that they could communicate with their bearers. They informed Celestia that their usage on one that had proven worthy of bearing them in this situation would cause an acute dissonance that would leave them petrified and inert for many years. Along with this, the Princesses’ tenure as their bearers would meet its permanent dissolution. Celestia was aghast by this news, but tentatively accepted the terms. The monster parading about in her sister’s flesh had to be stopped, no matter the cost to themselves. She asked what would befall her sibling, but on that the Elements were eerily silent.
She had no time to deduce what this silence meant, as the Night Terror had finished slaughtering the guards that had dared to defy her and walked with an imperious gait that reeked of murderous intent. Ghostly black wings were sprouting from her back and were more ghastly to behold than beautiful. When she saw her sister surrounded by the same Elements that had turned the unstable, unpredictable, and ostensibly limitless being who called himself Discord to stone, she was unafraid. She arrogantly gathering up her magical might and launching a beam of pure energy that would disintegrate lesser beings instantly. The Elements reacted appropriately, shielding her from the attack and even Harmonizing and adding its energy to its rapidly growing own. The Night Terror cursed and redoubled her efforts, though all for naught, as the Elements were implacable in their function. Their charge was nearing their threshold as a ribbon of colorful magical energy circled around Celestia and suffused into her being, healing minor wounds that she had sustained in the fight and empowering her with purpose. Desperate, the Night Terror flung every shard of Blue Moon at her sister, with the goal of negating the Elements and killing her sister in one fell swoop. The Elements anticipated this, and overwhelmed the Night Terror’s influence on the shards with their own, wrenching it from her control and removing her taint from them simultaneously.
With the Elements at full capacity, Celestia closed her eyes and levitated off the floor, her yellow sapphire like Focal Gem ablaze with Arcane energies. When she reopened her eyes, she saw the world around them in an entirely different light, saw every strand of magic permeating the Earth, coursing in and out of the life forms outside the castle grounds, and accumulating in the leylines crisscrossing the planet. She saw the ugliness in her sister’s soul, all of the sentiments of rejection, the bleakness, and the utter desolation that saturated her mind until a rogue spark of anger ignited it into something hateful. Try as she might, Celestia could not bring herself to grieve over her purblind attitude to the struggle simmering within her sister, the sight beyond sight that the Elements bestowed her with told her that Luna transformed into the Night Terror of her own free will. With a heavy heart, Celestia channeled the nigh immeasurable power of the Elements into a spell to restrain the Night Terror. Tendrils of rainbow colored light rippled outwards from the screen of magic the Elements discharged, shooting towards the Night Terror with such a speed that the latter is hardly able to flinch away when they grip her by the arms and legs and suspend her in place. She wrestled and thrashed angrily with the ethereal bonds chaining her limbs, but to no avail. The creature that was once Luna had been served up to Celestia for judgment, and the Elements awaited her sentencing.
With the Night Terror held securely and immobilized where she was, Celestia had the luxury of contemplating her decision. She mentally relayed a question to the Elements regarding whether her sister could be saved or not. One day perhaps, she can be cleansed. Though not by your hands… but twelve others, they replied in a comprehensible voice without sound. Celestia took this bitter pill rather well, all things considered. Sometime during the fight with the Night Terror, Celestia knew that this could only end unhappily. ‘So be it’ She stated in the most solemn, duty bound tone she could muster. ‘Night Terror. You are charged with treason and conspiracy to usurp the throne and mantle of stewardship over the firmament. For your crimes in opposition to the Crown and the people of Arcania… nay, the world, the penalty is banishment from the Earth’ She pronounced judgment upon the wretched monster in her sister’s skin. The Night Terror did not offer an intelligible reply as she glared up at her behind that cracked facemask. Instead she shook and shrieked with animalistic madness as the Elements sent a surge of multihued magic spiraling towards her, spiriting her away to the only location where she could live out her banishment from the Earth, the same moon that she refused to lower.
‘Oh, my dear Luna…’ She said as she stared sadly up at the sky, the Elements of Harmonious Virtues sapping themselves of coloration and petrifying before landing with muted thuds on the stonework after having expended their power for the last time under the Princesses ownership. Clarity returning to her as the magic of the Elements vacated her body, ‘What have I done?’ The quietude was broken by her woeful wail, characterized by unspeakable loss. Without Luna by her side… she was alone in the world, the weight of her chipped tiara digging into her skull with an enormity that was never there before.
⁂
I snapped back to reality with a seamless transition. One moment I was immersed in the memory flow, the next I was cemented in a vigorous lip lock with the Princess, who was likewise anchored in the now. Despite the impropriety of our admittedly compromising position, she did not pull back from our embrace, and neither did I. My hands rose of their own accord and held her close, with one pressed on the small of her back while the other hugged the nape of her neck. Celestia’s full lips tasted sweet and savory, like the various teas that she habitually swilled. It was convenient that the Solar Princess was quite tall for a woman (we were virtually eye to eye on those seldom occasions where she wore heeled shoes), as it meant that I did not have to crane my neck as much we osculated like the world could come crumbling down around us at any time. No words needed to be spoken of this… tender coupling. After seeing things from each other’s personal perspective, our thoughts, feelings, etcetera; I knew of the Princess in an intimate manner nearly identical to the way that Lyra, and by extension Twilight, knew me.
Our mutual affection wound down after a few minutes, as we had to separate in order to draw breath. Still, our eyes were focused on each other in a way they never had been before.
“If only you knew how long I’ve waited to do that” She mused aloud, her eyes half lidded as she leaned on me.
“About a millennium, if your memories were any indication” I remarked with an imperceptible grin.
“You still stink of Hydra” She joked, giggling delightfully, “You are the only person I’ve ever known with the boldness to deliberately brave the stomach of that multi headed beast and live”
I smiled awkwardly, “Yes well… let’s just say that’s the last time I’ll subject myself to that brand of unpleasantness” I changed the subject, “So not to come off as forward or anything… but how does this redefine our relationship?”
“It doesn’t” She answered simply, “I’ve pined for you since first we met, and I know you’ve noticed… even if the truth of the matter eluded even myself for a time. I did not wish to reveal this earlier as I feared that it might somehow interrupt your development as the Hero described in the Prophecy of Dissonance, though if your involvement in my own ascendance was central, then I can infer that the opposite being true would not be unreasonable”
“So business as usual, but with a few more kisses on the side from now on” I summed it up in my concise, blasé attitude.
She nodded slowly, “Just so… although, it will require more than a few kisses to keep your Princess satisfied” She gave me an equivocal smirk that was open to more than one interpretation.
‘What have I got myself into?’ My love life is going to be a complicated affair. That much is guaranteed.
I bowed my head, though maintained eye contact with her, “I’m honored that you harbor these touching sentiments towards me, Celestia. Though may I brazenly ask why you would have me?”
Her eyebrow twitched upwards, “Is my affection that confounding, Zenith?” She returned my question with her own.
“Frankly, it slightly is, Princess” My forehead furrowed and I peered at the Archroom’s fractal ceiling, the light from the Crystal Heart pulsing through the support columns and into the channeling apex, “I mean… you saw events from my own perspective. You saw me at my worst… seriously, what kind of man must I be if I can shutdown my emotions like that and kill whoever I deem an adversary? Or torture someone into revealing the location and weaknesses of their shady organization’s fortress… and then kill them?”
“That’s correct. I experienced everything. Every thought, every emotion that you claim you suppressed, I saw it all” She affirmed in a neutral tone, before pushing a thumb on my chin so that I would meet her firm gaze, “But I also saw you at your best, Zenith. I saw that altruistic side of you when you stepped in for Starswirl and his injured companion at risk to your own health, when you risked it again in those caves… facing down an Ursa Major to ensure that Tough Cookie received the medicine for her treatment” Even she sounded impressed with that feat, “Convincing the Agrarians in Mirrimare to shy away from lethal force, comforting Sweet Pea in the aftermath of her village’s slaughter and seeing her to safety, even doing small services for the people of the Vale as currency to trade in for leads in your search for us. You are more upright than you give yourself credit for, and not as foul as you think”
“That’s all plucky and nice, but does that really excuse the terrible things I’ve done in the name of good?” I posed, unsure of the man that I was turning out to be so far.
She shook her head vigorously, “Who am I to judge you, Zenith? For all my trying years as a vaunted Princess of Arcania, I’ve made my fair share of questionable calls myself, some of which proved to be mistakes in the short and long terms. But I’ve never let them detract from overall meaning to be more of a light to the world than a glaringly sanctimonious figure of hypocrisy” She leaned up to kiss me, a more reassuring gesture than romantic, “Besides… our subjects would doubt my prudent sense if I chose a scoundrel for a consort” She jested with mellow humor.
‘Remind me never to show this woman the first Star Wars trilogy. And a Consort of the Princess? I never envisioned that I’d have that word applied to me. I’ll assume that our subjects refers to the three Princesses’ Celestia had me named me as an Agent of the Crown after all. Less Red Tape that way.
“Well you know me” I demurred, “I do my best to be humble, even if I fail to be modest from time to time. Wouldn’t want to become like the old Blueblood, now would I?”
“No, you should not” She agreed, “So the man who tried to sap us of our power… he is vanquished?”
“Double Cross?” I said with an undertone of caution, “You know he’s the second fallen apprentice of Starswirl’s to try and kill me right? He earned himself a similar fate too, as you no doubt saw for yourself via my memories”
“If you’re concerned about the malediction you punished him with… that was before there were official laws banning the use of blood magicks” Celestia waived off with a shrewd expression, “And it wasn’t exclusively blood magic either. You incanted verses suffused with a power alien to this Earth. What language was it”
My face darkened and my chest tightened, “I invoked the Black Speech of Mordor. A language that I will not utter here. I was only half aware that I was using it, the other half was too consumed with a need to see that man get his just deserts” I grunted negatively, and went into explicative detail, “He was not the true threat, Celestia… not by a country mile. Merely its pawn. One that I’ve made effectively immortal. Crippled and corpselike, but immortal none the less” That is, unless he bothered to repent for the blood on his hands, which isn’t bloody likely.
“If you say that he was a puppet, then who was the master?” She naturally inquired, wanting my opinion despite our joint memories.
“The fell entity that I’m to foil” I replied, “Do you recall the Shards of Sheol? The objects that you sent another of your Agents to retrieve?” I did not wait for her to respond, “Those deathly Shards are the proverbial containment units for the Great Dissonance… and those Shards are waking up all over the world. I don’t know how much time we have to isolate them, and we won’t be the only people seeking them, but it is imperative that we find them all and secure them before those with less than honorable motives do” I held up a finger, “There’s not much cause to worry though, as finding the Shards is the only part that’s problematic. Sheets of moss will be sufficient to keep the Shards’ negative effects from killing anyone”
Celestia processed this with the stern face of ruler, “I will write to the Sultan of Marabia at once. He will be relieved to know there is a cure for what his specialists are calling The Phantom Plague. Albeit, his country has a noticeable lack of moss” She added with faint humor.
“I was told that life is what counteracts the ill effects of the Shards. Sheets of moss seem to be only the most convenient solution. Inform him of that, if you would” I suggested.
“And how shall I explain how I know of this?” She quizzed me, subtly preparing me for the world of political nuances.
I shrugged, “Write that our varied experiments with our own Shard showed these auspicious results, and that as neighborly allies to the Marabian people, we felt obliged to enlighten them with this knowledge”
She titled her neck, “A lie?”
“Not an outright lie. A timely one” I carefully retorted, “You’ve commanded Daring to get her hands on the one somewhere between Gryphondria and Cervidia, correct? I know Daring Do well enough to know that she’ll stop at nothing till she succeeds in her job. So it’s a question of when, not if” Besides… if the Sultan suspected us of lying, would he really go so far as to demand we show him ours? After what the one he had did to his people?
She curled her fingers as she mulled on it, “Not as transparent as I would have initially surmised, though I will politely refrain from mentioning our own search for the Shards… which is more crucial that it appears. I will factor this into your future assignments when and where I feel it necessary. Fear not. I will not stymie the Star-brought purpose of the Starwalker. I vow it on my honor and life” She promised me.
“You don’t need to promise me that, my precious Princess. I trust in your judgment, Celestia” I ran my hands down the porcelain skin of her arms before settling on her elbows, as I touched my forehead to hers, “Just as I trust in you”
Without warning, Celestia began humming the intro stanza to ‘You are my Sunshine’ and caressed my cheek, showering me with her displays of endearment. Telegraphing that she was awake when I sang that to her, over a dozen lifetimes ago for her. That she’d remembered it so faithfully was strangely flattering.
I gawked at her, “You heard that?” I wasn’t the biggest fan of singing, only seldom doing so and for damn extenuating reasons.
She swayed side to side in a knowing fashion, “I may not have been as incapacitated as you initially assumed. You have a lovely singing voice, Zenith. I would trade a hundred of the finest cherry chiffon cakes produced by Sweet Tooth’s confectionary to hear it on a regular basis”
I had no words for that, which was a rare occurrence for someone like me. If I tried to muster a response, I was afraid I might stammer and look a fool, which would have been a poor impression indeed.
She had the good grace not to make me squirm for her amusement, “Enough of this drab talk. Death wakes, but Life waits for no one. Come” She held out her hand to me, “There’s a welcoming party that you’re expected at. And I suspect that you will want to comfort two of the Element Bearers in particular. Afterwards I have a task for you that we must discuss privily”
“I live to serve, your Highness” I did my best gentlemanly bow with a servile hand on my chest, only to receive a flick of her finger on my cranium. With the Princess being a Trifect like myself, it stung.
“You can start by ceasing that falsely obsequious behavior of yours” She chided me, “Now take my hand” She ordered in a no nonsense voice.
I acquiesced like a proper Agent of the Crown, rubbing at the afflicted spot to wipe away the stinging pain. Celestia’s Focal Gem flashed like a sunburst for a second and my vision was filled with whiteness, my equilibrium scrambled like an egg as I moved everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. When the dazzling effect of someone else’s teleport wore off, my stomach settled back into my gut and I effected a brief shake of my head to clear the sensation of imbalance. I really despised being teleported.
The Princess stifled a titter as she witnessed my discomfort, “Still unused to those instant travel spells, Zenith?”
“No. It’s just disorienting when someone else hitches me along on theirs” I groused. At least she gave me warning before she did it, unlike a certain sister of hers.
The Princess had the foresight not to flash us directly into the Great Hall and scare the wits out of anybody not expecting us. The Guards armored in glittering crystalline armor were at least trained to retain their stoic composure when Mages were about, though their eyes did scan us to appraise for a threat level. Once they deemed us as friendlies, their rigid posture relaxed the smallest degree and they bowed their heads to the Princess, who put them at ease with a lazy hand signal. The Guards pushed the door behind them with an armored fist not clutched onto their spears and we walked inside.
Within the first five seconds it was overtly apparent to me that Pinkie had free reign to plan my ‘Welcome back from your profound journey of truth and self discovery!’ party, as evidenced by the arched banners hanging from above by anchoring points suction cupped to the ceiling.
‘How in the world could she know what I’ve been doing? I doubt Lyra blabbed to her about it. The only possible explanation is…’ No, it’s better if I don’t look too deep into that.
Decorative garlands of snowflakes and fragrant flowers lent the air a pleasing aroma of winter and the ensuing springtime. The trestle tables were for the most part devoid of decoration, but at the end of those tables was a lineup of delectable looking foods and desserts, some of which I had partaken of while traveling in the Dreamy Vale. Roasted Goose with peppercorn gravy slathered over the succulent flesh (imported I bet), honey cakes implanted with honeycombs to enhance the theme, meat and onion skewers, and a rack of lamb baked in a crust of garlic and herbs, garnished with sprigs of mint and encompassed by creamy mashed potatoes. Liquid refreshments included fluted drinking glasses of Crystal Berry Cider. The tasty buffet before me made my stomach growl like a vehement Manticore, eliciting a giggle from the Princess. The entire assemblage of the Elements, Princess Luna, Princess Cadence (who was sitting at the foot of the table, as befit her status as the regent of this Kingdom), and her consort were apparently chatting the evening away waiting for us. Spike was nowhere to be seen (poor guy wasn’t invited, I suppose). The noise of the doors swinging wide drew their attention, though the Pink One was the first to react, jumping up from her seat and zipping down the aisle with such swiftness that her hyper energetic form practically had blur lines.
“Zenith! Hey!” She greeted me like I hadn’t been gone a second in her eyes, “So… whataya think?” She elbowed me and wiggled her eyebrows in ways that shouldn’t have been humanly possible, “Not too shabby huh?”
“Well… you forwent the aspect of surprise this time, so I can definitely approve” Mister Tummy grumbled again, “It seems my stomach certainly does anyway” I japed, “So how’d you know when to plan this little social function? No wait! Lemme guess… Pinkie Sense?” I deadpanned.
She nodded excitedly, “Yup! Pinkie Sense. C’mon!” She wrapped her arm around my elbow and tugged at me to follow, “Even I can’t eat all of this banquet food myself. The Citadel staff was so nice to put this together at my request. I should bake them a few batches of my special ‘Thank you for being so nice’ cupcakes!”
“You should” I agreed, before offering my arm to Celestia like a right Gentleman, “If you would be so kind to accompany me formally, Your Grace?”
She laughed, “Isn’t it a bit too soon for us to declare our newfound stance towards each other for all to see? Have you no fear of what others may think?”
I grinned roguishly at her, “Do I come off as a man that fears such trivial things?” I shot back.
She held a hand to her lips and giggled, “My suitor is very brave indeed. Very well” She linked with me, “Escort your Princess to the table”
Pinkie was either oblivious to the romantic banter between us or turned a blind eye to it, “Standing here won’t make the food any warmer, Zenny” She chided me harmlessly, “Fluttershy and Rarity were being such sad sacks earlier too! They’ll feel better knowing that you’ve been off exploring, adventuring, and fulfilling ancient prophecy!” She chirped, exhibiting disturbing foreknowledge of my activities.
“I’m going to ignore that last part” I muttered, before we joined the others who were watching my semi intimate contact with Celestia with barely hidden intrigue.
Fluttershy and Rarity were looking at me (Well… Fluttershy was glancing at me with wet eyes, while Rarity was lowering at me sullenly, like I owed her an explanation), Applejack seemed indifferent to my return while Rainbow wore an angry scowl, like my absence was a personal insult to her. Twilight was whispering to Cadence, who was sipping daintily at her wine glass, while Shining Armor did his best to pretend I wasn’t there, or gallivanting about with a Princess on his arm. Luna had no expression of note, though her eyes stayed hooked on her sister’s for a perceptible moment.
‘Still bitter about that three way matchup, Shiny? Such jealously is unbecoming in a Prince’ I mentally quipped, taking a seat next to Pinkie and the Sun Princess.
Cadence took a spoon and tapped it on her wine glass to make an announcement, “Our guest of honor and contest champion has finally arrived. Now before we all launch into some grand inquiry regarding some of his… err latest actions, I humbly request that we temporarily set our concerns aside and enjoy a meal together like civilized folk” She gracefully entreated of her guests.
Shining wasn’t ready to drop the issue, “Seriously, hon? He’s the reason why our Household Guard burst in us while we were…” His wife leveled a fierce glare at him that warned him against completing that sentence, eliciting him to cough and clear his throat, “That sound crystal and bizarre song had his name written all over it!”
“We cannot prove anything, my love. The magical energy was prearranged to dissipate upon contact, so the signature could not be tracked” She reminded him with gritted teeth, “Even if he was our mystery prankster, we are indebted to the man who prevented a catastrophe from occurring at this city’s first hosted event in a millennium!” She smiled a white, mildly menacing smile at him, “So it can be overlooked”
‘God, I hope my marriage isn’t like that’ Even though he did not have the friendliest disposition towards me, I could sympathize with him.
Defeated and not desiring further hen pecking, Shining sank sulking into his seat and pounded back his own wine glass. Without further ado, Cadence clapped her hands and attendants bearing elegant plate ware set their cargo in front of each, along with our silverware. I observed a few of the Elements close their eyes for half a minute before serving themselves some food. I shut mine and said a quick prayer of thanks for my meal before helping myself to some roasted goose like my inner fat-ass demanded. Our dinner wasn’t as dignified an affair as Cadence would have preferred, with Pinkie relating some anecdotes between noisy bites of her food and laughing messily at her own jokes. Whereas she was happy and loud, the others were solemn and silent, their searching eyes speaking more than their mouths ever could as they took sparing bites of their food. I missed each of them more than I cared to admit while I was off in another world and time, but this cold welcome nigh had me yearning for the dangers of Precania. Those I could deal with just fine… this accusatory stillness required a different breed of stratagem that did not come inherently to me.
Once our meals were concluded, any pretenses of approaching me in an orderly fashion were defenestrated out the window. Fluttershy and Rarity pulled me to the side and bombarded me with a mixture of kisses and interest in my disappearance. Apparently Fluttershy and Rarity were there when news of the Princess’s inability to scry for me was disclosed to Twilight, and either she explained the morbid implications of that to them, or they deduced it for themselves. They were placated by a succinct summary of what happened to me the night I disappeared and hugged me like a pair of constrictors, pleading that I never put the fear in them like that again. It wasn’t a pledge I could realistically keep, but I made it anyways. Twilight had spoken her peace to me this afternoon, and was content to resume her discourse with her sister in law and her brother. Rainbow avoided me, made some excuse about sleep, and left for her room. Applejack apologized on her behalf, welcomed me back with an amiable hug, and jogged after her. Pinkie must have been hungry, because she was polishing off that plate of honey cakes like it was her last meal.
Luna’s request was the memorable one though, “Zenith?” She addressed me in a rare tone of thankfulness, “We were most flattered by your musical performance in the opening event of the games, particularly by the closing song. We must know… were the lyrics dedicated in our honor?”
“They were, Princess,” I confirmed, “though I am not the man who wrote them. Why do you ask?”
“We were wondering if it would not be too much to supplicate you to perform for us a second time?” Her eyes cast downward almost shyly, “We must confess that we always had a weakness for the Bardic Arts, and yours is the closest approximation of it that we know of”
I contemplated something appropriate to play for the Princess of the Moon, “I’ve a musical piece in mind, though it’s without lyrics and I will need a piano for it” I stipulated.
Cadence had been eavesdropping, and vocalized enthusiastically, “There’s a piano right there” She pointed at the upright version of the instrument with wine glass still in hand, “I’ve had it recently installed, though I’ve yet to find a musician eager to stay here long enough to play it regularly, and my subjects are unfamiliar with keyed instruments. Though heaven knows they try, bless their hearts”
“Huh…” I replied dumbly, “I’ve never noticed that before” To be fair, it was secluded in a recess right next to the stairs leading to the kitchens.
I ambled over to the black paneled instrument and slid out the flat conductor’s chair before sitting, pushing up the wood covering the keys and making sure it was in tune. It had been a while, relative to the time I had been experiencing, since I had played any instrument at all, so I had a moment to myself ensure that my fingers were limber and ready for the task. When I was confident in my abilities to entertain my audience, I pressed down on the keys as the beginning notes to Claude Debussy’s Clair De Lune rang out in the air of the Crystal Citadel for the first time in its history. My feet worked the pedals of the piano as functioned best for the acoustics of the Great Hall. All talking was hushed by the music, which had a pensive, slightly bittersweet feeling to it that would engender tears in the more sensitive of listeners. As it was, this song condensed my own relationship with the decision I had made declaring this world to be my home, and these people with me my new family. My fingers danced along the keyboard and my body swayed as the song picked up, and I could all but see myself soaring amongst the night sky, resolute in my renewed purpose to defend this world and all that was good in it.
Eventually, the song wound down as the ending notes drifted in the Great Hall with a small echo. I doubt I did that one the same justice that my great aunt on my father’s side of the family could have done, but the applause and the occasional fit of sniffles I received from every woman present assured me that it was sufficient for them. I got to my feet and bowed stiffly, noticing Celestia curl a finger at me that notified me that it was time for us to ‘discuss privily’. Luna had a pleased glint in her eyes, though her lips betrayed absolutely nothing. I resisted a smile when Cadence was sobbing happily in the arms of her husband, who murmured comfortingly to her as he stroked at her sorbet hair.
I trailed the Princess to another of those mini balconies, where she stood erect and proud.
“You had matters you wished to confer with me, Celestia?” I cut right to the point.
“Yes, Zenith” She twisted her neck a few degrees back to me, “Excellent rendition by the way. That was a very moving piece. Even Luna was touched by its sheer sense of subtle emotion” She complimented me.
“Debussy was inspired when he wrote it. And I was likewise inspired to memorize the entire song” With the aid of muscle memory based magic, of course, “But we’re getting off topic here”
“So keen are you to dive into your duties, is it?” She nodded, “I shall not keep you in suspense then. It has come to my attention recently that a representative of mine will be needed to settle a delicate dispute happening to the South of the Capital, near the frontier town of Appleloosa”
“What kind of delicate dispute?” I fished for more info.
“That kind that could threaten to send that region into mortal conflict” She vocalized gravely, “The Native tribes living in that area are accusing the locals of abducting their people, though they have no evidence beyond claims that masked gangs on horseback wielding what they refer to as ‘Thunder-Horrors’ have been attacking their weakest settlements and making off with their women and children, whilst killing any man who tries to oppose them. Further compounding the issue, the Head Chieftain of the Buffalo Brave’s daughter has vanished without a trace. He is most distraught about this, and has been sending a combination of requests and threats for us to help her turn up again”
“Bandits?” I guessed, “But crime is virtually non existent here”
“These kidnappings are a recent development, and the presence of guardsmen in the Southwest is lacking in comparison to other localities. The region is rife with malcontent, Zenith. The denizens of the Buffalo Braves are being aggressively stolen out from under their noses and they are searching for someone to blame, the logical one being their Arcanian neighbors with whom they’ve had grievances with in the past. The Appleloosians are the most convenient option in their eyes. Some organized band of outlaws is killing these Natives and seizing their women and children for an unknown reason. The Braves have never included themselves as citizens of the Kingdom, but they are under the crown’s protection never the less” She glanced away to the moon hanging in the stars, “There is more. I know where the Chieftain’s daughter is”
“You do?” I was momentarily caught off guard, “Then why not reunite them and put that problem to bed?”
She scoffed, “Your choice of words is ironic. Young Strongheart has sought refuge in Dodge Junction because of a bed she does not want to be compelled into”
“May I know who watches over her?” Somebody had to have discreetly brought this to the Princess.
“A Miss Cherry Jubilee, owner of the Cherry Ranch where Strongheart and her… romantic partner are laying low” Her scowl spoke volumes about her opinion about who this partner was, “She also happens to be one of my contacts monitoring the overall health of her sector”
“Sector?” That’s some shady terminology no matter where it’s used.
“Miss Jubilee is one of many unassuming servants to the Crown with considerable influence over the areas where they preside” She explained, “Miss Jubilee’s Ranch supplies the majority of Arcania with fresh fruit. I believe Sweet Tooth’s confectionary orders their cherries from her exclusively”
“And she felt it prudent to tell you that she was harboring two runaway lovers?” And after her guests presumably trusted her with secrecy, claiming that their love was just? That’s cold. Dutiful, but chilly as hell.
“It is not her job to sympathize, but to be my eyes and ears on the goings on in the Kingdom” Celestia retorted, “That’s not to say that I won’t sympathize with Strongheart’s decision. She claimed that the suitor that her father had in mind for her was little better than a thickheaded beast. But that thickheaded beast is also the one championing an attack on the settlers of Appleloosa as retribution for their losses, though Strongheart knows this not to be true. She was among those willing to compromise with the settlers when their apple orchards encroached upon the buffalo grazing grounds. Strongheart could convince her potential husband to stand down, on account of their sealed marriage. The daughter of the Chieftain commands considerable respect being of his blood alone”
I hummed pensively, “So how do I factor into this minefield of an issue?”
She anticipated this one, and responded fast, “You will be my appointed representative to deliver Strongheart back to her father to secure this marriage, with the ultimate goal of relieving the building tension between the natives and the settlers. Secondly you are to investigate the matter of the Natives’ kidnapping and bring whoever is responsible to justice by any means necessary. You will depart the morn after next, when the lovers will feel most secure in their… escapade of a demonstration”
“I’ll need to speak with Discord on the morrow then” I told her, “I’ve a favor to call in with him that should aid me in this endeavor” And help me accomplish another unspoken fancy of mine in the process.
She stared at me analytically, “Tread carefully around that one, Zenith. Reformed he may be… but Discord has a fondness for warping one’s own words against them”
“So you’ll summon him?” I said hopefully, that empty spot by my hip almost palpable.
She waved a hand dismissively, “You will see that he has a method for summoning himself when he feels it fitting to his own twisted idea of entertainment”
Boy, I knew that all too well.
I scratched my head, “Who is this mystery beau of Strongheart’s anyway? The one who eloped with her to Dodge Junction?”
She gave me a curious, sidelong look, “Why… none other than Applejack’s cousin. Braeburn Apple”
The bow string twanged once for the first time in my new life before my target some one hundred meters out had an arrow with a field point tip sunk halfway through its torso. The projectile carried enough force with it to tear it off its pole, where it flopped almost pathetically onto the grass. I whistled as I beheld my work. It was initially meant as a ranging shot, but I guessed that I wasn’t as rusty as I gave myself credit for. I reached into the quiver upheld in a metal stand by my thigh as I nocked for another shot at the dummy next to the one sleeping on the grass of the stadium. After that bombshell of a revelation last night, my own sleep had been restless at best (not that I was required to sleep the full seven to eight hours as a Trifect, but old habits die hard), so I reckoned that a little stress relief was in order. The stadium itself was free of hundreds upon hundreds of people shouting and cheering for their favorite teams to triumph and win their cities of grandeur or hodunk towns some glory, which was a relief. I hated the roaring noise that a group of people screaming their lungs out could achieve.
‘Not too shabby. Beats the black walnut, cherry riser, and maple limbed bow I used to have by miles’ I hummed in thought as I appraised the quality of the featherweight Spritewood constructed recurve bow that I held in my grasp.
I only vaguely recall glancing over the mentioning of the light green colored Spritewood in one of Twilight’s library texts (it dulls in attracting interest when compared to the miraculous, illustrious Floatwood, where the trees it is harvested from are connected to the Earth through flexible, fire resistant roots that are three times the length of the bole they supply water and nutrients with), and when I refreshed my knowledge of it I found that its properties of favorable elasticity, formidable tensile strength, and force retention made it a highly desirable material, especially for bows. The one that was currently in my hands had a pleasant smell, almost like Sandalwood with a hint of Pine. They were high end weapons, prized by hunters and guardsmen alike. The fact that one of these babies would lessen the weight of your munny pouch by three Princess stamped coins proved that, and that was without accessories like stabilizers and string suppressors.
I readied my shooting stance after nocking another arrow. I stood facing sideways to the targets and spread my feet apart till they were aligned with my shoulders. When aiming with a bow, it was counterproductive to hold the string back and aim, as the tension would cause tremors, and even the slightest shake could greatly affect where your arrow flew. You wanted it to be one smooth motion; the drawing of the string, making your spine do the work, putting the smallest amount of weight forward on the foot closest to the target, letting go of the bow handle while pushing the handle forward with the minor area of flesh in between the curve of the index finger and the thumb… and releasing the string. I was unsure what wood material these arrow shafts were made out of, but they flew straighter than I expected for how lightweight they were.
With my height, deceptively brawny Trifect muscle, and the reinforced elasticity of the Spritewood bow I was using, the draw weight I was commanding here had to be well over a hundred pounds if I pushed the bow to its limits as I was doing now. Frang! Went the bow, and the arrow rocketed out of its perch at speeds that defied belief. The passably human looking target dummies were made out of a force mitigating, magically enchanted foamy material meant to prevent the over-penetration of the mark, so the verifiable truth that I could wedge an arrow even halfway through that at a relatively short distance was impressive in and of itself. Of course, most archers weren’t Trifects that had enhanced attributes in practically everything. So maybe I shouldn’t have been so pleased with myself.
I had gotten out of bed that morning before the Sun was supposed to rise, moving like a darkly dressed specter (I had finally washed the Hydra stench out of my robes. Such a difference it was, smelling clean!) through the halls as I used the special bridge connecting the Citadel and the Stadium. From there I had paid a visit to the armory where the magically blunted weapons and equipment were kept, had a few words with the armorer in charge of keeping them under lock and key, mentioned that I was Celestia’s Agent that she had announced to the Press, and was all set to enjoy a morning of archery practice. I loved archery, and the fact that I wasn’t half bad at the sport helped immensely. Lining up a series of consistent groupings of shots came easily for me when loosing at stationary targets. But when the man from the armory told me that they had a special mechanized track that allowed for the shooting of mobile targets, I was as giddy as a kid in a candy shop with a pocket full of Jacksons.
Until he could finish the setup work behind me, I was content to let fly at sitting targets. Though the busy armorer scurrying about with railed tracks and large painted sheets of scenery that I assumed were meant as cover would sneak glances at me every time I loosed a shot when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Either he was impressed by my bowmanship, or in his head he was focusing on the Ice cloud incident that was attached to me, and was studying me for himself. It grated on me for the first five minutes before the apathy settled in and I was able to pierce the head of the dummies three times out of every five. I would try my hand at speed firing the bow (arrows were nocked from the right, where the wood was skillfully carved to accompany an arrow rest), but the kinetic energy each fletched round carried to the target would more often than not tear the dummies from their post and force me to correct them with a sigh and an application of magic. There are downsides of convenience when it comes to being a Trifect with a world shaking purpose to a life removed from his old one.
The armorer whistled to me once he had hammered the nails posting the painted scenery cover that the mobile dummies on rollers would pass every ten seconds. Crystals that I presumed were charged with the magical energy that powered the device were intermittently encrusted into the metal. There was no overtly obvious mechanism for controlling the speeds at which the dummies sailed along the track, but the armorer explained that it would vary based on how well I was doing as a sort of difficulty adjustment system. I nodded to him and thanked him for his work with a ten bit coin to sweeten my words and make his spent time worthwhile. The armorer must have taken my previous session with the standing dummies into account, because the mobile ones were armored from head to stilt in old, rusted armor that must have been the hand me downs from the Krystal Kingdom’s guard barracks. The gems encrusted in them were radiant though.
The armorer gave a shout from his position behind me as he started the contraption with a handheld remote, the rails slowly grinding their gears as the mechanism fired up. The track itself was shaped in a serpentine S curve with circular bends that overlapped over each other to simulate a juking opponent. Along the track were various obstacles that the armorer informed me the dummies could not only use for cover, but to ‘shoot back’ via a tiny light bulb that turned purple on the top of their heads as they returned fire. The point of that contrivance was to train the archer to hit the target before they could have the chance to shoot back. The armorer advised me to wait a minute for the track to reach optimal status before beginning the combat archery exercise. I gave him five, practicing with the static targets until I was comfortable with firing on the move.
My ears discerned a swooshing of wind as Rainbow Dash touched down beside me. Quick as she was, this girl could only outrace the speed of sound on special occasions. The woman was dressed in a light blue t shirt and gym shorts that left the vast majority of her thighs exposed to the elements, “The heck is all this for?” She queried me in a nigh accusatory tone, giving the noisy contraption a scrutinizing look that disguised an undertone of dismissal. I could only surmise that she was bothering me for rationale that went beyond the classification of idle curiosity.
“Guten Morgen, Fräulein Dash” I greeted her, ignoring her lack of early morning courtesy.
“Speak the common tongue pal, I’m not a poly-… something. The Egghead would know” She finished lamely, her vocabulary failing her at the moment.
“The word is Polyglot” I clarified for her, “So what’s up?”
She crossed her arms together and scowled at me, “I asked you first… Egghead”
“My skull is actually quite rounded, just so you know” I corrected her, taking slight offense, “And I am practicing archery, as you can plainly see” I wiggled the Spritewood bow in my possession for emphasis.
She couldn’t care less about the bow, “That’s cool, I suppose”
The awkward lull in conversation lasted ten seconds before I remembered an important topic I wanted to talk to her about.
“I’ve been wanting to thank you” I began to say, meeting her gaze with those stunning, Magenta hued irises of hers, “I sort of owe you a lot”
“Huh?” She ineloquently vocalized, “For what?”
“Teaching me how to manipulate the existing weather conditions” I replied, “Were it not for your hands on instruction, I likely would have become breakfast for an incredibly angry Ursa Major” Or a red pile of mush on the ground. I couldn’t dodge its attacks all day, and it would have taken me the better half of that day inflicting damage on it with normal strokes of Dichotomy to fell the enormous starbeast.
She expelled air through her lips in a mixture of disbelief and wonder, “I’m still trying to imagine that, you standing toe to toe with an Ursa Major. Those things can kill most adult Dragons! How big was the one you encountered?”
“Scary big” I understated casually, “So what brings you here to the ground floor of the stadium?”
Her eyes flicked to the side, “I’m here to get some laps done on the track” Despite the excusing way she told me this, she refused to budge from her position, her body twitching with indecision every time she tried to do so.
I levitated the quiver holder over to me, “And is that all you’re doing here?”
She groaned, annoyed that her anxiousness was so obvious, “Applejack also extorted me into apologizing to you for last night… so sorry, I guess” She scraped her foot side to side on the grass in an endearing manner.
I frowned, “It’s not a true apology if you were coerced into it. And what are you sorry for? Other than being less than talkative and avoiding eye contact at all times at the dinner table. I realize that I was being a bit of a pig last night. But when a guy is voracious, he has to indulge his stomach” I patted my belly jocosely. I probably could have wiped the grease off my lips with those dainty handkerchiefs Cadence had the gall to designate as the napkins in order to regain some lost propriety points. Ehh… my laziness abounds.
She poked me in the chest, “Please, you couldn’t be a more messy eater than me or Pinkie if you tried. I was steamed at you for other reasons, Zenith”
My mind naturally jumped to the most rational conclusion, “About my brief disappearance, you mean? That unfortunately wasn’t something that could be avoided, Rainbow”
She shook her head, “Not that! Sending Spike to bring me the autograph signed by the Star Seekers! You were supposed to give it to me in person!” She vented, as if I had spurned her.
She was mad over that? Leave it to Rainbow Dash to get mad at the smallest affronts to her person.
I wasn’t going to permit her irritation to rub off on me, “Well Spike volunteered to do it for me as recompense for his hesitation to do what needed to be done with the ice cloud. I figured it would have been rude to turn down such a heartfelt proffer” I collected arrows from the quiver to insert between my fingers on my gripping hand and some to fist in the my draw hand, “Besides, you never stated that you wanted me to give it to you personally”
She brushed a rogue strand of messy, chromatic hair out of her face, “Where did you even disappear to? The way everyone was acting, you’d think you’d gone somewhere important”
“That depends on how you look at it. I could sum it up for you as going through a looking glass and down a rabbit hole of drugs, sex, and rock and roll… but just the rock and roll in actuality” I amended, expertly resisting the urge to smile at her stunned countenance. My stone face was too accomplished however, as Dash recovered from her shock with a sour squint.
Rainbow groaned exasperatedly, palming at her face, “Why are you always like that?”
“Like what?” I chirped innocently, inserting an arrow between the cleft of the index and middle finger on my bow hand.
“Like this!” Her facial expressions went flat and she slumped her shoulders like all of her motivation for life was sapped from her, which was something I didn’t do, so it was a terrible impersonation, “Mister I don’t have emotions and always look like I wish I’d stayed in bed”
“I do have emotions, for your information,” I gainsaid her, “though I concede that I like sleeping in sometimes. I just keep those emotions suspended in a semi aqueous solution of pure apathy chilled to within a few degrees of absolute zero” What I left out was that I was constantly monitoring to ensure that it never did reach absolute zero. I was skirting a dangerous line whenever I acted entirely devoid of emotion.
Her brow scrunched in miscomprehension, “Let’s pretend I understood a sliver of that jargon. What’s your point?”
“My point” I leveled an arrow tip at her face, before nocking it to the bow, “Is that I have a firm handle over my emotions. They cannot rule me unless I give them permission to. And I rarely, if ever, do that” I turned away from her to face the archery contraption.
Before she could reply, I drew back and let fly, the arrow screaming downrange to pierce the furthest foam target in the rear of the track as it crested a miniature hill. I had five shots clutched between my fingers on both hands, so I had to make them count. Sprinting forward and to the right of the course, I reloaded using a shaft pinched in my fist and loosed at an armored dummy as it poked out from behind a ‘tree’, growling to myself as the arrow ricocheted off the side of the helmet and implanted itself in the stadium wall beside the armorer; who jumped and howled a curse at how close that arrow was to shaving him. The lucky dummy stopped in its pace and pulsed, a lazer-like beam shooting from its forehead and narrowly grazing my ribs. I rolled behind a poorly painted boulder and snuck a peek at my target before breaking from cover and loosing a shot, feeling a surge of triumph as my arrow nailed it between its eyes. With how speedily my arrows flew, I didn’t have to compensate much for distance or trajectory. Still, having to pause for two seconds to nock my bow cost me too much time in a firefight, as evidenced by the stream of purple light heading my way and forcing me back behind the false rock.
I had three targets remaining before this exercise could be completed, and the track had adjusted so the dummies would also duck into cover after taking pot shots at me. I hadn’t a clue what made the target course so intuitive, but I decided that I liked it. It saved me the trouble of casting a shadow opponent spell, and those shades wouldn’t stop stray arrows from accidentally pin cushioning some poor bloke in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was painted cover in the shape of a bridge a few meters from my current position that offered a better field of fire against my opponents, but the gap between the two spots was open and left my crossing vulnerable to enemy fire. The tracks were moving again, and another peek notified me that the dummies were rolling to box me in, but in doing so they had also abandoned their own cover. I took the chance as I detached from the boulder and broke into a mad sprint for the bridge, evading lazer fire that was realistically made inaccurate, as the dummies were mobile. I dove underneath the curve of the bridge and nocked for a shot. Popping out over the cartoonish bridge, I let fly at the closest target, a dummy that was moving back in forth almost as if it were indecisive about what it should do.
The arrow struck it where a kidney would have been on a man, and the dummy’s vacillation was cut short as the gem on its head dimmed. I ducked down as a ray of light from one of the others nearly clipped my hair. I very much doubted that they did any actual damage, but I was determined not to find out. If this were a real contest of projectiles, I wouldn’t have much room for error. I nocked before I emerged and took my time to aim this one, letting it sail into the neck of a dummy that was rounding the corner where the rock was. Because I was feeling confident, I attempted to nock two arrows at once in an effort to replicate something that Legolas, Green Arrow, or Hawkeye could pull off. The bow twanged as one of the two arrows stiffly soared downrange and planted itself in the grass. The second somehow miraculously pinned the remaining dummy where a man’s groin would have been (the sharpened tip of the arrow drilling through the codpiece as if it was only the thickness of an aged cheese), though the dummy lacked the parts and sensitivity to make that wound seem excruciating.
With all the targets dispatched, the track sensed that the exercise was concluded and powered down, and I gesticulated to the armorer to let him know that I was done here. I looked back to see that Rainbow was impressed by my performance, though she was loathe to admit it from the way her brow furrowed and how fast she refused to meet my gaze as I ambled over to her. There was a yen in her glancing at the training course that was all too easy to read. An eagerness that was both foreign and eerily familiar to me, prompting a spontaneous change in my morning plans.
I collected all of the arrows that I had expended on the field and returned them to the metallic stand retaining the quiver, deliberately making a slow show of it while surveilling her in my peripherals to confirm that Rainbow wanted to emulate me with a bow. It couldn’t hurt to have to have some of the Elements take up some arts to defend themselves with such a foreboding future in the cards. I had even recalled spying Fluttershy practicing basic opening and closing techniques with the butterfly knife that I had given her. She had adorably taped over the blade so it wouldn’t punish her so badly for closing with her hand around the bite handle.
“That was some fancy shooting out there” Rainbow remarked as I slotted the last of the arrows into the quiver, “Since when were you an archer?”
“Since I was just a college student in another world, in what feels like another lifetime” I answered neutrally, thinking no more of it.
Rainbow’s expression softened as she realized what she had broached, “Oh… sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. Geez, how do you deal with that? If I was stuck somewhere else and unable to see my dad or my friends again, I’d go nuts!”
I sighed, “I cope with it the same way I do for everything” I rationalize it or mentally shut it away so it would cause no bother, “Here” I thrust the bow into her arms, “You seem like you wanted to try your hand at this”
She was confused, “I might give it a whirl. Where are you going, Egghead?”
I waved a hand in an arbitrary direction, “This roundhead is going to the library, there’s a certain curiosity that needs to be satisfied there” I vanished into the darkness of the tunnel before she could call out to me.
I took my exit at the stadium’s main entrance, where the magic suppressing arches shaped like metal detectors dotted the venues. Enough time had expired during archery practice that sunrise had come and gone. People, locals and tourists alike, were enjoying the stadium’s many facilities such as swimming pools, spa rooms, gymnasiums, and the like. A grand event like the Athletic Games only occurred once every four years, and even so this city was not likely to see a repeat of their hosting it for a long while. Regardless of this, the stadium itself (which undoubtedly took a large bite out of the Krystal Kingdom’s treasury) was a first rate center for recreation, and would serve the citizenry living here quite well. I pushed my way out the doors and onto the city streets, ignoring the looks of recognition brightening people’s faces as I strode past them. I no longer had cause to worry about them swarming me, a Royal Agent of the Crown wasn’t somebody to be trifled with, and the citizens stepped aside as I conducted my business.
The library of the Krystal Kingdom hadn’t changed at all since last I had seen of it, though it hadn’t changed in a period lasting over a thousand years, so that was obvious. The resting forms of the crystalline Griffins sat vigilant as they soundlessly guarded the flashy repository of information. I wondered to myself if the head librarian would remember my face, she didn’t seen senile for her years, but Annabelle and she were of an age and the matriarch of the Apple family could be pretty kooky at times (Her cooking was top notch though). I jogged up the steps and entered the library, the bejeweled doors groaning as there weight shifted on squeaky hinges. The interior of the building had significant levels of activity that made the place seem dead compared to the busiest I had ever seen it. Dozens and dozens of people (mainly academic types who were delighted to be exposed to a wealth of information that had been gone for a millennium) were browsing the shelves as native library assistants slid on ladders to collect tomes and texts requested by those people.
I found the library’s keeper ol’ Agatha sifting through a monstrous stack of papers and stamping them as she approved new library cards and accepted outgoing and incoming rentals at her desk by the entryway. One of the few old women among the Krystal denizens, Agatha was hale and healthy for her advanced age. In mind at least, if not in body. Her greying hair was tied back in a neat bun and held in place with a golden ring. She still had on those ridiculously large spectacles anchored to the bridge of her nose with string lined with teal beads. I didn’t understand why it was so refreshing to see her again, even if our relationship could hardly be classed as even platonic.
Perhaps it was the raw nostalgia that stimulated my senses. The whole of the Krystal Kingdom reeked of it, what with all the memories I made here, along with the death defying hijinks I got into with Daring Do. It was in this very library that I discovered the book that taught me to use the wings on my back that hypnotized me with their elegant beauty, even if the memory brought up the sordid taste of grass and soil from several trial and error crashes. It all paid off though, so now the only time my bladder lodged itself in my throat was when someone besides me teleported me somewhere.
I approached the woman where she toiled; watching her wrinkled, rheumatic fingers flip between pages as she expertly juggled a stamp in one hand and a pen in the other (it is so nice to see people modernizing thanks to me, even if its represented in baby steps) as she dealt with her workload. I waited patiently for three minutes before clearing my throat and alerting her to my presence.
“If you’re here to withdraw a tome of your choosing, just take Form B and fill it out. Once its processed, you should be able to rent to your heart’s content by tomorrow morn. Form A will take two extra days to process, but with a library card you can skip the need to wait and take home multiple books instead of one” She instructed, her eyes never leaving the neatly organized surface of her workstation.
“It’s good to see you again as well, Madam Agatha” I wryly retorted, not unkindly.
My odd response got her attention as she looked up at me, “Forgive me, have we spoken before? My memory isn’t what it used to be, and I’ve seen so many faces. Especially as of late, with all the attention that the Games have been attracting here, it’s a wonder we haven’t been swamped!”
I h’rmm’d, not surprised that she had forgotten me, “That’s quite alright, ma’am. I’ve changed a tad since last you saw me, so failure to assign a name to my face is forgivable”
She adjusted her glasses, the lenses making her light purple irises appear bigger than they really were, “Now that I’ve gotten a long look at you, you do seem faintly familiar. Didn’t you rent some books for a dear friend of mine, while also checking out the ‘How to Soar for Skyborn’ instructional slash historical background piece? The one with a winged clasp on the cover?”
My face brightened pleasantly, “That was me!” I chirped to her.
Agatha blinked twice, “You’re taller than I remember. You weren’t so sumptuously dressed back then either” She murmured. She must have skipped out on attending the games, since my fiery spectacle in the stadium was not cowing her at the moment.
I chuckled, “And still growing, as far as I know. But reunions aside, I’d like to know if this library has any stores of informational documents from bygone eras. You know, from before the vanishing of the city?”
She bristled with that communal pride some elderly people get, “This establishment is blessed with the distinction of holding some of the oldest historical texts outside of the Concordian Historical Institute, whose scrolls date all the way to the times when the three clans stood divided and squabbling amongst themselves”
I clapped my hands together, “Fantastic! Could you point me in their direction, perchance? I have some research that needs be accomplished before I leave this fair, fleetly developing city of yours”
She shook her head sadly, “I’m afraid the documents you might be referencing are off limits to regular library goers. The books and scrolls from before the Krystal Kingdom’s disappearance are rather fragile and must be handled delicately. If anyone could access them, they would have turned to unreadable shreds of paper and motes of dust by now” She said apologetically.
“It’s alright Agatha, he has the right permissions” A voice I’ve come to cherish called out from my left, “As you know, it is improper to refuse an Agent of the Arcanian Crown leave to inspect whatever he pleases within their Majesties’ Realm” The woman responsible for hosting me during my ingress to the Krystal Kingdom walked up to us, holding a clipboard in the gap between her left arm and her bodice. She set it atop the librarian’s desk after jotting some notes that I was not privy to. Her presence was like a ray of sunshine that didn’t agitate me moments after awaking.
I smiled genuinely, “Crystal!” I embraced her, noting that our extremely lopsided difference in height put her head level with my solar plexus now, “I didn’t expect to see you here” I told her as we detached from each other.
She mirrored the smile, surprised by the uncharacteristically warm affection but glad for it none the less, “You act as if you did not just see me two days ago”
I wobbled my head slightly in contemplation, “Eh… it’s a lengthy story,” ‘One that I would not feel comfortable with retelling in public’ I telegraphed to her with my eyes, “but from my perspective I haven’t seen you in nearly a month” And meeting Pony Crystal Clear did not count. Agatha was perplexed by my statement, but did not let that distract her from her stamp work.
She sensed my reluctance (that was an aspect of her special talent after all) and held up a hand forbearingly, “You don’t have to share it this instant if you don’t want to” She crossed her arms against the other by the wrists at her waistline and stood there professionally, as befit her recently gained position as an authority figure.
Crystal Clear was garbed in attire that must have reflected her high standing in society. Her smooth, sky blue dress had a luxurious ermine trim and embroidered golden filigrees stitched over her midsection. On her feet were sparkly crystal short heeled shoes that would have made Cinderella green with envy. Her brownish-blonde coiffure was done up in complex braids that accompanied a bun that looked like a squashed beehive. Gemstones were bestrewn between the weaves and lent her an air of sophistication and grace (Not that she didn’t have those two qualities in abundance to begin with). On her fingers were signet rings that I surmised that she used to seal important documents and impart them with all the authority that she was vested with by her neighbors. I wanted to think of her as stunningly beautiful despite her status as a widow whose precious child was taken from her by the monster that once ruled this place, but there were some Freudian undertones in that train of thought that unsettled me greatly. She was the closest thing I’d ever have to a mother figure in this world.
“I dare say that you could take the stage with the Princesses themselves and not be outshone style wise” I complimented her, taking extra care not to insinuate anything untoward.
Her eyes glinted (‘Is it some trick of the light that makes it shaped that way?’) at the praise, “You flatter me, Zenith. May I return it by stating that your previously decreed station as an Agent of her Royal Highness is quite apt? You definitely have the steadfast gravitas for it”
She then looked abashed, “But these topics of conversation can persist until later. You wished to read up on ancient history? Come, I’ll usher you to where that is kept” She beckoned me to follow with her hand.
I trailed beside her as she led me down the stairs of the building and to the back betwixt a couple of bookshelves, where a door made of homogenous quartz was barred off to those not cleared to enter. The seams were practically invisible, and the average person could walk on by without noticing it, but I was more perceptive than most. Crystal placed her hand on the door and a phenomenon occurred that reminded me that this city still held some wonders in reserve. The woman’s hand sent out pulses of light that coursed through the crystalline structure and interacted with something, possibly a spell matrix coding for the locking of the door. The light flickered and changed color from a fuchsia to a green as the door swung open.
“How’d you do that?” I inquired, mildly curious.
She sent me an amused sidelong glance, “We citizens of the Krystal Kingdom must retain some of our secrets, though suffice it to tell you that my elected job comes with some useful perks that put my library card to shame”
“Evidently” I allowed, appreciating her courtly wit, “Ladies first” I said, gesturing with a sweeping motion of my hand and a bow.
She giggled and curtsied, “You’re a gentleman as always, Zenith. The annex is through here” She stepped through the doorway and into a room I didn’t know existed until now.
The annex, as she named it, wasn’t terribly large, being only a thirty by twenty square foot room loaded with book cabinets, crystalline bins brimming with individual parchments and sheets of vellum, and pedestals with scrolls floating over them suspended in a bluish light. There was a second floor accessible by a small stairwell made in an ovular U shape that contained additional storage space and bookshelves. The chamber was closed off from the outside and therefore windowless, so bulbs in the ceiling that gave off a low glow provided the illumination. I whistled to myself, long and low. You really do learn something new and unanticipated everyday.
“All of the chronicles, scrolls, and records that the library deems invaluable or otherwise irreplaceable are archived here” Crystal explained, “Documents on the verge of disintegrating are given the stasis treatment to preserve their legibility. Our previous… ruler” She tactfully put it, “was wise enough to keep written material detailing the daily operations of his Kingdom, which he aspired to transform into an Empire that bowed only to him” She scoffed, “It pleases me to no end that he is no longer among the living”
“Empire?” I questioned, “When I first laid eyes on it, I thought that it a stretch to call this place a town, let alone a tried and true city when the second tallest structure was only three stories” That was before they erected the stadium, anyway.
“It was not always so, Zenith” She replied, a sadness creeping into her eyes, “Once… our city was the pride of the North. It was resplendent in the day and mesmerizing to behold in the night. Caravaneers, merchants, and traveling traders alike sought to unload their valuable silks and spices in exchange for the flawless gemstones and crystals that we crafted everything out of. Ours was a Kingdom of great renown. And with luck and a little bit of diligence, I believe we can attain that distinction again”
I furrowed my brow in contemplation, “You speak as though the Krystal Kingdom was more expansive in the past than it currently is”
She inhaled deeply and let it out in one long draft, “When Sombra cursed us to be lost to time until he could convalesce from his fateful battle and subsequent defeat delivered by the Princesses, the population of the Kingdom numbered at over ten thousand. He did not have enough magic to afflict all of his chattels, so only the capital district vanished”
She let me do the math for myself. I made an estimation a long while ago that this city couldn’t have been home to more than a thousand native born residents, and the Citadel contained the Crystal Heart and its positive and protecting influence. That left nine thousand people alone in a frozen winter land and isolated from their kin when the Citadel and its surrounding sprawl went up in a figurative puff of smoke.
I was aghast, “Only ten percent were affected by that curse? But what happened to the rest of your people then?”
“The Princesses guarantee me that the remainder of our people hauled whatever possessions they had with them and migrated south into Arcania to become full fledged citizens” Crystal responded, “Each of us has distant relatives and descendants living somewhere in the cities of Vanclover, Troddingham, Seawatch, and the town of Tall Tale” After listing them, she communicated nothing more on the matter.
‘Does that include her?’ I wondered. If so, then why hasn’t she mentioned any of her own kin? Or is it a wound that she wishes to stay scabbed over?
She focused on an empty pedestal that must not have been meant to suspend items for preservation, “What subject interests you? I can scour for it using this”
“Anything on a Valkyrian Wing Leader named Maelstrom who was the daughter of Over-Commander Typhoon, from before the unification of the clans, please” I humbly requested, not wanting to agitate the already somber mood that she was exuding.
“That would be a bygone research topic indeed” She placed a hand on the pedestal and it lit up before dots of light surged into the ground and spread among the containment units, like a LED version of a host of web crawlers digging for my desired information.
“So when did you learn about my… advancement?” I made idle chit chat with her as she searched the directory for any material relating to Maelstrom.
“I was present when Princess Celestia made the announcement, coupled with the proclamation of the Kingdom’s absorption into Arcania’s fold. There were many reporters and journalists in the audience who raised some interesting concerns regarding you” She paused in her action and peered at me, “Between you and I, is it true that you’re the fourth Trifect?” She spoke softly, even though there was no one else around to hear it.
“That was never much of a mystery between us, Crystal. You saw me materialize in a flashy display of magic, which you assumed to be a teleportation spell gone awry (‘When in truth it was indisputably intentional’), hence why I was unconscious on arrival. Now tell me,” I posed to her, “how could I be Skyborn… and yet cast magic at the same time?”
She didn’t need to connect all the dots to see the obviousness to that, “I see then… so it was not random chance that we met”
My eyes flicked between pulses of light as they raced along the walls and ceiling, “There is no such thing as random circumstance where I’m involved. Me being here and being what I am is quite deliberate, I assure you”
I hesitated before deciding to open up, since she deserved at least that from me, “However… I’m glad that you’re the one who took me in, made your home available for me when you could have reported my emergence to the guards and washed your hands of it. You enabled me to discover more about myself while ensuring a smooth adjustment to the unknown. And you treated me with a tender care that I honestly was not expecting at first” I divulged how much she meant to me, “No matter what happens Crystal, come rain, shine, or overcast sky… I will always be there for you” Provided I wasn’t busy elsewhere, but she knew what I meant.
She clutched my hand in her free one and gave it a firm squeeze, “Given another chance, I wouldn’t have chosen any other way” The pedestal blipped as the light based crawlers happened upon the keyword and brought the results back to Crystal, “Oh, it found a match! Here, I’ll highlight for you” She tapped the glossy surface of the pedestal and one of the suspended scrolls hovering to the right side became effulgent.
I sidled over to the stand and magically browsed through a mega-scroll with the thickness of a ham hock after a short period spent learning the interface (the crystal ‘computer’ interacted with my Agrarian aspect, which was neat), “So what does your new job on the Intramural Council entail, responsibility wise?” I inquired as I multitasked with reading, not wanting Crystal to feel like she was just the means to an end.
“Oh… lots of things” She ran a duo of fingers through the side of her hair as she stood by me, “Agreeing on a fair tax rate and limited market regulations, appropriating allocation of property as it becomes available and habitable, assessing the potential costs of various follow up constructions plans, approving ideas and concepts for attracting additional economically favorable tourism as well as…” She trailed off as she struggled to remember what other exciting chores her people democratically foisted on her.
“Tedious paperwork?” I deduced the rest.
Her lips curled in amusement, “That’s an accurate, albeit fairly unrefined way of putting it. It may not sound like it from the list of duties, but this is a huge privilege for my co-council members and myself. The Krystal people haven’t been able to partially govern themselves since before the Kingdom’s temporal displacement, so this is a unique opportunity for all of us”
I hummed in intrigue as I came across an interesting passage, “You’re not upset that the Krystal Kingdom is to be absorbed into Arcania’s territory? I figured it would become odd to continue referring to this land as if it were its own separate political entity” I pointed out. The Krystal Enclave just didn’t have the same ring to it.
“Quite the opposite, in fact” Crystal refuted my doubts, “As a recently adopted semi protectorate of Arcania with Princess Cadence resuming her able tenure as Vicereine of the Citadel, we have been granted a generous helping of government funding to do with as we see fit. With that injected into our fledgling economy, we can use that to kick start our material acquisition projects. The mountains surrounding the Kingdom are still abundantly rich in raw ores like iron, aluminum, nickel, silver, and a whole host of others. We need only reopen the shafts that were abandoned when the Kingdom fell”
‘That could come in handy, principally for the projects that I have in mind’ I mused, soaking in the scroll’s enlightening text like a sponge. According to the passage I was currently on, Maelstrom really took my parting advice to her to heart.
“And your people wouldn’t mind working in the same mine shafts as they did when they were enslaved?” I broached a potentially poignant issue. Crystal might think it a marvelous idea, but her fellow Krystal-lander might not agree with her conclusion.
She considered it with her eyes shut, “Not all of us might support the motion wholeheartedly, but I’m sure they’ll see logic once I elaborate on how beneficial this will be for the community as a whole. Men and women who were adept in mining will finally have an outlet for their talents again. Sombra was the reason we despised our thankless manual labor, but we are not shackled to his whims now” She hammered a fist into her palm, “This will be the first step in throwing off the figurative yoke that the mad king burdened us with that has lingered even after his well deserved demise”
“If you believe you can convince them, then you should go through with it” I deferred to her.
She tittered delightfully as she imagined the possibilities, “We can offer the people of Arcania just as much as they have to offer us, so I for one welcome our southern brethren with open arms. Our loss of aggregate independence is a small price to pay when we can achieve so much more being nursed at the dugs of the mother country, so to speak” She blushed at using such a provocative analogy.
“I suppose you can thank me for my unwitting role in that newfound relationship” I said wryly, “By besting Silver Sword and Shining Armor in the ring, I had won a personal bet between Cadence and Celestia regarding the future of your little city and all its inhabitants. Yay, us…”
“Oh” She expressed in surprise, “Thank you, Zenith”
I chortled at how my sarcasm sailed effortlessly over her head, “That wasn’t meant literally, but you are most definitely welcome”
We fell into a lull of silence from then, which we used for fruitful purposes. Crystal indulged her own curiosities with history with the totally believable excuse that she was learning from her spiritual predecessor’s vast multitude of mistakes, misanthropy, and mishaps. Meanwhile I devoted myself entirely to the scroll that was part chronicle, part historical manuscript, and part commentary on the author’s part concerning the founding of Arcania and Maelstrom’s marginal role in it and significant role beyond. It was a first and second hand report written down by someone named Weather Feather, who was also a secret member of the mysterious Triumvirate who worked behind the scenes to keep the three clans from open war while promoting a steady unity between them. It was not an easy task, for the Agrarian clan had several grievances against the Valkyrians and Stellar Magi for their years of mistreatment and borderline enslavement. The intense rivalry between Valkyrian and Stellar Mage was no laughing matter either, and when push came to shove, people on both sides died by the droves.
Maelstrom returned from her mission and was deemed a disgrace by the majority of the Senate as well as her father, despite bringing back evidence that their quarry was neutralized as a threat to the Provinces. As to be expected, Maelstrom was outraged by her subsequent dismissal from their military and became a staunch outspoken member of society, much like Starswirl had. Apparently she had better fortune than the wizard did with his speeches and gained a few allies in the Senate (giving a literal meaning to the term ‘friends in high places’) who sympathized with the plight of the Agrarians and were disgusted by what their once honorable society was devolving into.
Maelstrom and her affluent allies initiated their own countermovement and labeled themselves as the Wings of Liberty, whereas their critics demeaned them as the Delicate Doves for their commiserating, peace seeking attitude with the land lovers, which was seen as un-Skyborn like. Time passed and the Valkyrians repeatedly found themselves foiled in their attempts to add new subjects to their Provinces to exploit, likely because Maelstrom had thrown her lot in with the Triumvirate and had helpfully informed them to the timetables the Skyborn kept for subjugating raids on small or poorly defended Agrarian settlements. Her father also spoke of his plans with his son, who led many of those raids, so Maelstrom was always close by to overhear the important specifics. Whenever a foray force set out to reave the towns groundside, they would often find them completely abandoned, with their crops pre-harvested, and the denizens nowhere in sight, so it was therefore useless for them to launch these campaigns when their failure only made them lose face in the eyes of their Senate.
The increasing upsets to their plans left the Senate and the Over-Commander in a bit of a predicament, resource wise. Before then, the Skyborn had been successful enough in their raids to sustain themselves off of the gains alone. But eventually they were forced to swallow their pride and begin an equal exchange with the ground pounders of the larger Combine government controlled towns. The Valkyrians would ensure optimal weather conditions for growth, while the Agrarians would set aside a portion of their harvests as payment for their efforts. This was mutually beneficial to both parties, in spite of the enmity between them. The more diligent the Skyborn were with the weather, the more crops that the Agrarians could harvest with which to share with them. Not all was peachy however; as the Over-Commander began to suspect that someone was leaking Intel on their movements and set a trap by falsely declaring a new series of raids to prove that the Skyborn had not lost their nerve as formidable warriors.
Unfortunately, Maelstrom fell for the cleverly disguised trap, having no reason to retain doubts regarding her father’s overly aggressive policies. She slipped the information to her go betweens, who were then shadowed by the Over-Commander’s men until they were caught red handed disclosing the false information to their enemies. The author skimmed over it, but it was implied that the men Maelstrom sent were tortured for days before they gave up the identity of their benefactor. The document didn’t mention their ultimate fates, but knowing the draconian strictness of the ancient Skyborn for myself, they were likely publicly executed as examples to any sympathizers what awaited them.
Because it would no do to execute his only daughter for the shame it would bring upon himself, and as she would not reveal her other allies, the Over-Commander exercised his jurisdiction and sentenced Maelstrom to exile. Those lofty friends of hers came in handy once more, as they permitted her with the means of living a comfy life secluded away from the affairs of the world in her own floating Manse overlooking the ocean. More time passed as her father succumbed to his age and her brother took his place. He lifted her status as an exile, which her sibling saw as a waste of talent.
With the Windigo menace ravaging the land with constant snowstorms and blizzards that permanently froze the soil and rendered it unable to be farmed by even the hardy Agrarians, the newly styled Commander Hurricane placed the reinstated Captain Maelstrom in charge of the expeditionary force with which to find an uninhabited and fertile home for the Skyborn to make their own. Interesting to note is that Commander Hurricane charged Pansy, his aide-de-camp, to be her second in command (with the ulterior duty of keeping him apprised of her actions, I’d bet). What the Commander could not anticipate was that the two would become romantically involved after a series of adventures on the continent (spanning sixteen pages worth of content that I had to thumb through) to the east and that Pansy’s loyalties would gradually shift to her (I know, it was a shocking development, given her earlier opinions towards him. Love has a manner of changing us in ways that we do not foresee). I was happy that she found someone to share her life with. But then… whose ancestor did that make her?
His reports to the Commander soon ceased to contain anything that didn’t extol his sister in the highest for her bravery and cunning, which she took advantage of by convincing him to break ties with the Skyborn and renew the Wings of Liberty movement with him as her second in command. As to be expected, this upset Commander Hurricane’s plans for colonizing the continent and making it exclusively available for the Valkyrians. Political turmoil, coupled with the drop in food supplies occupied the Commander and prevented him from dealing with his sister’s perfidious rebellion to the East. The author then writes that the Wings of Liberty would have their own contest with encroaching Gryphondrians, who had set up cloud outposts of their personalized construction there. The fast paced skirmishes and clashes betwixt the opposing flyers is how the two races developed a healthy respect for each other’s skill in the air, as well as forced the Gryphondrians to back down from establishing their own colonization of the land. In my eyes, this meant that they were unsung heroes for the history books, which never credited them for this.
With the other two clans squabbling amongst themselves and his own people in upheaval, the Skyborn Commander had sparse choice but to sue for peace along with the leaders of the other parties. Chancellor Puddinghead of the Combine, Princess Platinum of the Stellarian Royal family (her proud parents resting in eternal peace after an interim of illness), and the Commander agreed upon a relatively neutral zone to meet and discuss what they were to do with the unending rimy conditions and the impending threat of starvation that imperiled all of their respective peoples. Sadly, with a few heated words that did nothing to warm the air, old rivalries prevailed over the sobering imminent shroud of frosty death growing over them by the day. Negotiations at an end before they had began, the three leaders quarreled and stomped out of the assembly fuming with anger and a resolve to make do without the other’s assistance. Oathbound to their leaders, their entourage likewise followed suit, a mix of regret and stubborn conceitedness in their hearts.
Behind the scenes though, Pansy (via Maelstrom’s guided instructions under the ever watchful eye of the Triumvirate) had been keeping correspondence with the adviser and secretary (also connected to the Triumvirate either through familial relations or ones fashioned from mentorship) of the Stellarian Princess and Agrarian Chancellor, notifying them of the permafrost free land lying to their East. The assistants to the leaders of the clans whispered into their ears that it would be beneficial if they packed up and started their nations anew elsewhere, notably the ostensibly unoccupied land to the East. The underlying goal being the safe relocation of the three clans somewhere they wouldn’t starve, before they could finish the job at each other’s neck anyway. Both leaders found the concept of being the first to colonize a land for their people while one upping the other two a tempting proposition, though neither of them realized that they were being played.
His reputation as a champion of his clan hanging by a thread, Commander Hurricane realized that his only chance of holding onto his position as supreme military leader was to capitalize on his sister’s foothold in The Reach as they had taken to calling it (Due to the land bridge reaching out like an arm grasping for a lifeline on the map). Stockpiling the last of their resources, the Skyborn huddled together into the middling yet mobile city of Stratopolis (‘That explains a lot, actually’) and departed the lands that had been home to their ancestors for the better part of two millennia. The Agrarians and Stellar Magi followed suit by ferrying themselves eastward across the rapidly freezing waters in a massive haphazard fleet of vessels ranging from mighty oared warships, trading galleys, decommissioned barges, pleasure yachts (these belonging almost solely to the Stellarians), to even diminutive trawlers. The progress of all three clans’ was slowed by the need to resupply along the way while additionally picking up willing citizens or dragging along stragglers who had stubbornly refused to abandon the domain of their forefathers. Auspiciously the seas were plentiful with fish, which tided them over until they could grow their own foods when their feet were planted on solid ground once more.
The separate fleets made landfall along the coast while the Skyborn moved in from the North on their hovering city. The dispersion of the clans’ peoples was more or less what I expected. The Agrarians spread out equally among the extremely fertile valleys, meadows, and fields to plant and sow seeds (with a small detachment of them heading North in the direction of the Krystal Kingdom to make their own living), the Valkyrians remained semi stationary where they could observe the happenings and act at will from their flying fortress, while the Stellar Mages repeated their old habits of settling in the mountains and considering themselves Highborn and rulers of the firmament (disregarding an embarrassing incident where both the Sun and Moon took place in the sky at the same time and could not be reconciled no matter what spells the Stellar Council attempted to rein them in). Not surprisingly, the three leaders of the clans were dismayed at what they saw as the other two clans shadowing them to sanctuary and proceeded to butt heads against each other. The icy Windigo spirits were invariably drawn to the buildup of hatred and antipathy like flies to dead flesh, and for a moment it seemed as if all were for naught.
Pansy saw all of this occurring (or reoccurring really) and returned to the Commander to appeal to his sense of grounded judgment and rigid honor. He pleaded tearfully using their past friendship to add weight to his words and convince the Commander to try one last time to forge a lasting peace with the leaders of the opposing clans. Smart Cookie and Clover the Clever did the same with their charges, perhaps under the coordinating hand of the Triumvirate (and mayhaps by extension the wizard Starswirl, who had been preparing the newly ascended Celestia and Luna for their destiny as the unifying Princesses). With gritted teeth and clenched fists, the three leaders chose an unoccupied mountaintop smack dab in the center of the continent offering a splendid three hundred and sixty degree view of the country to conduct their diplomatic colloquy. Much rested on the outcome of this meeting. The three peoples could not afford to desert this land as well, since they had nowhere else to flee and their food stocks had been all but depleted in their prior haste.
Noting to a cynical degree how history was doomed to repeat itself around these three disputing figures, the author writes how the ensuing argument magnetized the host of the Windigo spirits towards the summit as the three heads of the clans quarreled (again) and demonized each other as being the reason their peoples were in the mess they in. Swirling overhead, the cold fury in their hearts called to the Windigoes and began to seep to the surface, slowly freezing the bickering three (who were too occupied shouting obscenities at each other to notice the chill creeping up their spines) in place. Their attendants shrank back in horror as the Windigoes turned hungrily towards them. What happened next is only a second hand account that was cited to Pansy himself, but two lights: one bright, one dark, materialized almost as if they had been birthed from the firmament itself and spectacularly vanquished the Windigoes with incredible magic unlike anything Clover the Clever had seen before. Their saviors alighted near them on ethereal wings like those of Angels to verify their health, their hair streaming like some otherworldly phenomena.
In awe, the three lesser known leaders of the clans dropped to one knee and pledged their fealty to these powerful figures. Laughing in a voice like heavenly music, the taller of the two assured them that their rescue had little to do with guaranteeing their loyalty. Regardless, Pansy, Smart Cookie, and Clover swore that they would serve them anyway. The shorter of the seemingly divine women wisely questioned them if they would serve them piecemeal or united in a common cause, engendering the three kneelers to speak to one another candidly (As their superiors were currently incapacitated and unable to reprimand them for it). All of them were aware of how futile it was for their peoples to oppose each other when they could live together in Harmony. So they struck an accord then and there, promising to stand as one people comprised of three clans, and that they would serve these two miraculous women who exhibited traits from all three races both as a symbolic gesture and as an example to those who would dissent.
The Hearth’s Warming Plays overdramatize the next part, but their mutual agreement unleashed a wave of magic that liberated the frozen Commander, Princess, and Chancellor from their icy, bodily prisons and persuaded them to come to their senses. They too were wonderstruck by the heroines and similarly pledged to aid the two women in unifying the clans and living in collaboration. Platinum was so humbled by her brush with frozen damnation because of her hubris that she removed her royal headgear and famously stated ‘These two are more worthy of the title of Princess than I am, let them wear the Crown, for they will surely lead us to a Golden Age of prosperity’. Chancellor Puddinghead cracked a self deprecating offhand joke that actually brought a smile to the group’s faces, affirming that his people could learn to forgive and put their grievances to rest. Commander Hurricane unbuckled the sheath to his weapon and solemnly laid his sword at their feet, vowing that his aerial forces would be the shield that protected the realm, and that he would step down from his position to atone for his arrogance.
The Trifects, as they introduced themselves, accepted his resignation and complemented it with their own surprise. Touching down with grace, his veteran sister, whom he had not seen in months, appeared before him and greeted him the Skyborn way with a salutation of the wings. She and Starswirl had been in touch with each other, so she readily accepted when he tendered a request that she direct the two women under his tutelage to where they were needed and when they were needed on the freshly occupied continent. In the weeks preceding the events of the meeting at the summit, Celestia and Luna had been busy learning the lay of the land, blending in with the aid of magic to study and interact with the people that they were preordained to someday protect as their subjects. Starswirl had advised them beforehand from personal experience that the optimal method of understanding a people was to spend a few days in their shoes and evaluate their experience of life.
Swallowing his pride, the Commander adjured his sibling to forgive his brashness and failure for removing the stain that his predecessors left on the repute of the Skyborn. Taking the golden hilted lightning forged sword he set at the Trifects’ feet, he offered their father’s symbol of authority to his sister, declaring that she was more than worthy of passing the torch on to and would bring honor back to the station. Demonstrating how far she had come since that night on the ramparts in the Acolytes’ fortress, Maelstrom modestly accepted this formal apology and changing of the guard, declaring to uphold the sacred vows that he had once taken as military commander. However, Maelstrom refused the promotional change to her rank (but was none the less the de jure coordinator of their Majesties’ Bodyguard and Air Force for the foreseeable future, a footnote listed), claiming that she was better suited in the field alongside her soldiers, thus establishing the precedent of a Wonderbolt’s Squadron Leader continuing to wear the designation of Captain even if their rank was technically higher than that responsibility wise.
Beaming happily, pleased with how the previously obstinate leaders of the clans were now altering their tune for the collective benefit of others, the taller Trifect proclaimed that they should build a city on that site to commemorate this historic occasion. Platinum agreed wholeheartedly that her clan would raise up a magnificent city there. She inquired as to what they would name this future abode. Smiling mysteriously, the regal woman replied ‘Name it Concordia, for this was where a concordance uniting the clans was realized’.
I paused in my readings and mentally analyzed this tidbit of information. Could Starswirl have let slip a few details to the women he would groom to actualize the remnants of their fate decreed prophecy? He had supposedly honored his assurance to me that he would horde all scraps of knowledge about the future that I disclosed as fervently as I tried to hold it from him, but people can often commit faux pas, particularly under the tongue loosening influence of alcohol, which he was fond of partaking in. I did my best to remain tight lipped during my time with the astute man, but the wizard had this aggravating habit for worming answers out of people with his cogent demeanor, one of them was the name of the city where the sisters would reside once they had established a solid rulership.
The end of the scroll summarized a few things since the author wasn’t present to witness these events either. The Trifects, who the six influential clan members would come to know as Celestia and Luna, made their base of operations in the Neverfree Woods (Which had not become overgrown enough to warrant the forest title). From there, they would coordinate with the three leaders of the clans to get their peoples to recognize their authority and reconcile with each other in the process. Unification was achieved with greater speed than I expected. Within a fortnight the whole of the clans were on speaking terms. Within three months, the Stellar Council ceded control of the heavenly bodies after a breathtaking demonstration of their inherent ease with daybreak and moonrise within moments of the other by themselves (A feat which took the concentrated efforts of the majority of the council members). And by the conclusion of the year every voice referred to them as their Princesses. It was just in time too, for that was when an infamous self styled Avatar of Chaos randomly decided to make known his presence…
The gentle knocking from a trio of knuckles against the solid crystalline wall alerted us to someone else’s entrance, which disrupted me before I could read about the havoc that pre-reformed Discord wreaked upon the nascent nation. I twisted my neck about in minute agitation to see the redeemed sell sword Jomar standing patiently at the door of the annex, looking like he had been there for some time now. His outfit was less formal than before, consisting of a plain long sleeved shirt with a cravat, grey slacks, and a pair of brass buckled leather shoes. His reading glasses were conspicuously absent from his face, causing his bright blue eyes to seem smaller than usual.
“Pardon my intrusion, Councilor Clear, Agent Zenith” Jomar respectfully bent his head to each of us in order, “I have tidings for both of you”
“I’ve just about finished up here anyway” I said, turning away from the floating scroll as it furled itself together again, “What news do you bring?” I asked of him.
He complied, “Their Royal Majesties Cadence and Celestia humbly request the honor of your presence at the Blackgate Bistro, to break your mutual fasts in pleasant company” He switched attention to Crystal, “Councilor Ebony and Councilor Zircon wish to consult with you on a creature comforts matter. They told me that you would be the deciding factor in whether or not including a complimentary pool table in the additional housing projects was necessary to improve the image of the Kingdom in the eyes of potential investors and tourists”
“Just when I was getting to the good part” Crystal bemoaned, murmuring what I was thinking, “Well I would detest leaving them to argue on the finer points of adequate furnishing. I’ll meet them in the Council adjourning room” She turned to me, “Will I see you again later today?”
“Possibly” I responded with a faint shrug, “I don’t leave the Kingdom until the next morning” And then it’s off to the south to retrieve the daughter of a Native Arcanian Chieftain and return her to her tribe and do what I can to lessen the mounting aggression between the settlers and the Buffalo Braves before it gets out of hand.
‘I am brimming with excitement for that’ I opined insincerely.
“Oh…” She vocalized sadly, before hugging me, “In that case I will see you on your next visit”
I mirrored the gesture, “You’ll be preoccupied for the remainder of the day?”
She nodded, “Undoubtedly, yes. Councilors Ebony and Zircon have this annoying tendency of inviting their fellow council members under the pretense of solving a single issue when in truth they have a dozen to two dozen in mind. And even if they refrained from doing so, I still have to hold session with my constituents and keep them apprised of our progress. It’s how our Council stays honest with the people who put us in office”
“Honesty in minor politics, I like it!” I grinningly quipped, before sobering my expression, “Farewell, Crystal Clear. I’ll miss you”
She leaned towards me on the tips of her toes and planted a kiss on the spot between my nose and my gem-less forehead, “As I will miss you” She echoed, pulling away from our embrace, “Go, Zenith. It’s bad form to keep a Princess waiting, let alone two of them”
She took her leave, exiting the annex to make for wherever the Intramural Council held their meetings. Jomar, who had seen the exchange, piped up, “It’s not my business, and forgive me for prying, but you and Councilor Clear are… close?” He sounded legitimately curious. I figured it was harmless enough to indulge him that which was overt information anyway.
“Yes” I answered tersely, “She found me when I first came to the Kingdom, hosted me in her own home and treated me like family” Perhaps I was an outlet for her motherly instincts. It would provide a great deal of insight as to why she lent me her deceased son’s room for me to accommodate myself in.
“Remarkable kindness from a remarkable woman. I’ve been assigned to assist her on several occasions now. She is well suited to her role from what I have observed” He notified me, “She factors the best interests of her people into each of her decisions, and empathizes with most everyone she meets”
“Crystal is a special woman” I concurred, “But I should pay heed to her advice and not stall their Highnesses a second further. Show me to this Blackgate Bistro if you would, please” I cordially issued him a command, which he obliged without hesitation. We exited the library (the annex door resealing itself behind us) and walked down the lane east of the southern facing Citadel.
The Blackgate Bistro was a diminutive yet popular dignified restaurant and café carved from naval blue corundum crystal so dark that it was almost black like the name etched on the sign on the doorway. Delicious aromas wafted out of those open doors as smartly dressed waiters and waitresses ferried platters to and fro loaded with local cuisines and some mildly exotic dishes like a Smoked Rack of Ewe with Lobster Mashed Potatoes drizzled with a light sauce that made my stomach rumble from the smell alone. Fencing made out of black iron topped off by an eponymous black gate cordoned off the front yard. There was a truncated line of people speaking with the Maître d’ as he handled their morning reservations and directed them to their tables with a flourish of his hands and a gentlemanly bow. The interior of the Bistro was not where the Princesses were sitting, as I would have assumed, having instead set themselves up under an exterior round table partly secluded from the others with an umbrella to shield them from the sun’s glare as it climbed to its zenith (‘Heh, the figurative symbolism in that is amusing’). And had it not been for my meticulous observational skills, I would not have recognized them.
Both of them had donned undercover disguises that changed most everything recognizable about them save for their facial features, which forwent some of the makeup and eyeliner and were au naturel in complexion (They were no less beautiful, needless to say). Cadence was wearing clothes mirroring the local flavor of Greco-Romanesque dresses with extra jewels embroidered into the flamboyant design, because reasons… while Celestia (whose hair was the same sheening pink it was on the day she first met me. Perhaps my hair color has magical dye options?) was garbed in a rather corporate looking gray suit and skirt, sporting a light purple shade to her luscious lips. Adding to her aura of professionalism were a pair of square, rimless spectacles perched on her nose and actually made her look quite attractive in my book. Oddly, Celestia’s hugely potent aura was notably dimmed in this form, leading me to speculate that her rippling hair was connected to the cause. Both of the women had fancy feathered hats on with wide brims, and were acting careful enough to keep their Focal Gems concealed from wandering eyes. I wasn’t sure why that would be the case though. With the influx of outside visitors for the games and the new inhabitants, Stellar Mages weren’t an uncommon thing to see anymore. Mayhaps it was to complete the fashionable set.
I passingly wondered why they went through the trouble of disguising themselves, but realized quickly that nobody wanted to have to put up with the formalities between loyal subjects and benevolent monarchs while the latter simply wanted to enjoy a friendly morning meal amongst close company. Jomar instinctively knew the fine art of practicing discretion and just kept walking past the Bistro, avoiding drawing any attention by announcing my arrival verbally. I was receptive to the hint and took my place in the queue to wait till I could speak with the Maître d’ and sit beside the subtle sovereigns hiding in plain sight. Celestia noticed me waiting idly with a tiny grin and waved over a waiter who had finished delivering a customer’s order and was on his way to the kitchen to pick up another. She whispered a few words to him and he bowed in dutiful consent, appearing next to the Maître d’ and repeating whatever the Princess told him to the fancily dressed man. The listening man’s eyes widened and he whispered back in surprise, possibly making sure what he heard was correct.
The Maître d’ snapped his fingers twice and pointed at me, “You sir, the tall one in the magnificent robes! There’s no reason for you to be waiting in the line, your party is seated right over there” He gesticulated to his side, urging me to get a move on. I did so cautiously, receiving more than a couple stink eyes from the people who had been here longer than I had.
“Good morning, you two” I greeted them surreptitiously as I plopped down on the open seat, nodding gratefully to the waiter who had pulled it out for me, “What’s with the summons?”
Cadence stared at me blankly, “You weren’t summoned, Zenith. We requested you casually. I hope you don’t mind, but we also took the liberty of ordering ahead of time, your food included”
I wagged a hand, “That’s fine, I am not terribly picky. Besides, if that appeasing aroma drifting out of the doors is any indication, I’m in for a palatable breakfast”
She tittered, the feather in her hat undulating with her shaking, “I’m certain the staff would be pleased that they can make a solid first impression before the food is even tasted”
“Indubitably” I agreed in my best British accent, “And you are beautiful as always” I said with a roguish grin to Celestia, who actually flushed slightly at a compliment she must have heard countless times, “So what am I supposed to call you two when you go into public incognito?”
“It varies, depending on the outing and what we’re wearing” Celestia replied after expertly draining the blood from her cheeks, “Today I feel like being Sunshine. My opposite number here is favoring Neapolitan Swirl. Albeit, if anyone recognizes you from that distinctive apparel of yours, it may be all for naught” She didn’t seem all that disappointed, probably because I looked damned classy in these robes.
‘Two out of three ice cream flavors is close enough’ I opined humorously, suddenly hankering for some frozen cow juice myself.
I chuckled, “You know, I once had a woman threaten to remove my tongue with hot pincers for referring to her by that name. Yours, that is” That, and foiling her at and outside the long forgotten town of Mirrimare.
Cadence was shocked, turning a shade of green at the thought, “Zenith! That’s not appropriate conversation before our meals have even reached the table”
I bent my head repentantly to… Neapolitan, “Apologies… I was just reading up on what happened to Maelstrom after that fateful night at the Acolytes’ Fortress in those deplorably boggy woods”
“Maelstrom?” Neapolitan repeated the keyword as she crooked her head sideways.
“An unspoken and unrecorded historical incident on the continent the three tribes inhabited shortly before they fled across the Sea of Salvation. Maelstrom and her soldiers were there to neutralize a grave threat to the Dreamy Vale’s inhabitants. She was later recommended to guide my sister and myself through the land by a dearly missed mutual friend of ours, and would go on to become the first Commander of the aerial division of the Arcanian military” Sunshine clarified for her, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to a waitress who had brought us a platter with three steaming hot cups of coffee. I was only big on iced coffee, but I wasn’t going to complain.
“She was a fierce woman throughout all the time that I knew her, though she toned down on her hot bloodedness for the sake of her children” She continued, “I grieved intensely, as did her husband, when she never returned from an expedition across the Sea of Tranquility to survey the lands there”
‘Maelstrom…’ I thought sadly. I didn’t know her protractedly myself, but I considered her an ally… and an excellent person to have at your back when the swords and spears were out and flashing about.
Sunshine smiled hopefully, “Her legacy lives on though. Our dearest Fluttershy is distantly related to her, strangely enough” She revealed, only partially stumping me. Perhaps she was more like her ultra-great grandfather personality wise?
“Wait, was this the same continent that sunk beneath the waves a decade and a half after the three clans had wholly abandoned it?” Missus Swirl questioned, ignoring most everything else.
‘What, like The Silmarillion’s Beleriand? Whatever for?’ This unexpected info intrigued me.
“The very same” Sunshine confirmed, “The Windigo spirits had their way unimpeded for too long a time, so the Earth itself was forced to submerge the continent to keep the gelid infection they left behind from spreading, and to cleanse it until such a time when the land has rejuvenated itself and rises again. They lost a sizable portion of their strength when they shadowed the Pre-Arcanians across the sea, which allowed us to facilely neutralize them when we arrived” She stirred some creamer into her cuppa joe.
“Like a baptism, in a way” I whispered, “Anyhow, is this a friendly chat, or is there business we need to review before I set out tomorrow?”
Sunshine blew at the top before had her first taste of coffee, “Both, though do try to refrain from ignoring poor Neapolitan. I’ve seen for myself how dogged you can be once you’ve committed yourself to a task”
I nodded, “I’ll mind my manners. Let us talk business then. I need to be fully briefed and informed before you send me to iron out the wrinkles of the developing situation down south”
We were interrupted as two dining attendants delivered their platters of nutritious aliments to our table. Neapolitan had ordered herself a salad with chopped up bits of crystal berries and crushed nuts sprinkled over the top with a vinaigrette sauce (Which was kinda boring if you ask me). Sunshine had herself a grilled fillet of halibut (imported from a coastal town, no doubt) with lemon juice pre-squeezed over the meat. The Princesses must have figured me for a meat and potatoes kind of guy, because I received a plate of beef stroganoff with scalloped potatoes and a side of green beans and diced tomatoes. It wouldn’t be the snobbiest dish to titillate my taste buds by any means, but it looked delicious, and my roaring stomach was in no position to contradict that. I held my head in a silent prayer of grace before I grabbed my recently placed utensils and laid into the contents of the plate with vigor.
Between bites of food, I spoke, “What should I know about these Buffalo Braves to better understand how they conduct their lives?”
“I know your appetite for both knowledge and nourishment can get ravenous, but please conserve your manners and save the table talk for after our expertly prepared meals” Neapolitan politely chided me, taking a dainty bite of her glorified rabbit food.
I grumbled bitterly, dabbing my lips with a linen napkin, but acquiesced to her reasonable point. I finished a full five minutes before anyone else, too engrossed by the undisclosed details of my imminent mission to eat at a leisurely pace like I normally did. The fare at this Bistro was top notch. The beef must have been from a freshly slaughtered bovine, because the meat was of unmatched tenderness and its juices exploded with flavor as they seeped between my molars. The scalloped potatoes had a thin blanket of cheddar cheese melted over them that made them even more scrumptious. The veggies were average, since there was nothing done to spruce them up. Once we were done with our meals, an extraneous dessert of what had to be fruity Buccellato was divided between the three of us. Fortunately we were able to converse during the consumption of that dessert.
“The Buffalo Braves are not an easy people to find” The Princess stated as she sipped at her coffee to wash our shared dessert down with, “Their main source of sustenance travels across the plains in multiple herds consisting of thousands of buffalo in search of regions to graze and streams of water to drink, so their people have little choice but to follow each of them in order to sustain themselves”
Neapolitan winced at something with her coffee and spooned in a few helpings of sugar before she was pleased, “The altercation between the Appleloosans and their Chief Village was over the proliferation of the settlers’ apple groves on land traditionally used by their sacred food source. The Elements were drawn into it after Miss Applejack invited them along to see her transplant one of her apple trees. A vibrant, fruitful specimen she named Bloomberg, I think?” She stared at the underside of the umbrella as she made sure that was the tree’s name. I couldn’t confirm that for her without revealing my pseudo knowledge of past events, so I kept quiet.
“These Buffalo Braves live a nomadic lifestyle then?” I mused aloud, “But if that’s so, then how can so many of their people be taken by these outlaws? Their villages are mobile”
“It stands to reason that they are being tracked as they traverse the plains” Sunshine reasoned, joining her voice in afresh, “Or more worryingly… they have an insider in their ranks that keeps the brigands aware to their movements. The attacks seem random and focused on the smallest villages though, and they cannot have infiltrators in each of their villages without rousing suspicion, so the latter scenario seems less likely”
“It cannot be a coincidence that the nearby settlers are receiving the blame for the string of kidnappings and killings. No one is coming forth to take credit for their actions, and you’ve told me that crime in this country is infrequent and only rarely takes place near the outer fringes. Whoever is behind all of this does not care if others take the heat for their crimes, or is even intentionally making certain that it is so” I theorized.
“But what could they gain from the kidnappings?” Neapolitan blurted out, “Unthinkable as it is for me to say it, if framing the settlers is this shadowy syndicate’s goal, then they could kill indiscriminately regardless of whether they were women and children”
I lifted an eyebrow as I reappraised my opinion of Cadence. The fact that she was willing to look at an issue from all possible angles no matter how morbid they might be showcased to me that she wasn’t just eye candy on her throne. Of course, how could I forget that? She was the one who told me that by confronting the darker sides of ourselves, we prove our true character and grow as individuals.
“The logical conclusion is that they’re needed for something. Whether as valuable hostages or as assets for far worse burdens is unknown to us” I made explicit.
“While your highest priority is ensuring that conflict does not reignite between the settlers and the Buffalo Braves, your secondary objective is to determine what these outlaws have done with their women and children…” Sunshine hesitated, her expression darkening, “…Should the worse come to pass, you have the Crown’s permission to exact justice however you see fit”
“Don’t you mean enact justice?” Neapolitan balked at her implied meaning.
“The men responsible for this have clearly demonstrated that they are not opposed to the use of lethal force to achieve their purpose. To attempt to flat out restrain them the normal way is bound to get good men killed. I will not have any innocent blood spilled on this Kingdom’s soil and prevaricate with the surefire solution to stop it” She gave a black look at the other Princess, and the way she shrank back from her stare told me who that she was not to be gainsaid on this decision; not that I would complain, “Our hard won period of undisturbed calm is rapidly approaching its end. Malevolent forces are at work here that have not been active since the dawn of days. We will stand firm and respond to it as the circumstances dictate. Our people’s safety is of the utmost priority, always remember that” She sent a pointed message to Neapolitan, who was faintly trembling from the iron in Sunshine’s voice.
Neapolitan sheepishly accepted this, “Y-yes, y-your Highness… I understand c-completely”
Sunshine’s glare lessened in intensity and she gently grasped Neapolitan’s hand in hers, “You have lived through centuries of idyllic peace, my precious niece. You’ve known little else. The Changelings who blatantly crashed your wedding are nothing but a taste of what real war is like, and war is not so effortlessly deterred by magic alone”
‘My Princess is Ice one moment and Sugar the next’ I reflected, Sunshine’s aura was all but tangible to my acutely tuned magical perception. So basking in its wake was an experience for the senses.
“I understand how Sunshine and her sister came into their station, but how did you ascend Missus Swirl?” I asked out of mixed curiosity and as a tactic to divert Neapolitan’s frazzled mind elsewhere.
She glanced at me blankly before composing herself, “Oh… umm. It’s not much of a story to tell really. It is so far fetched that is could be derived from the realm of common fantasy”
“This is supposed to be a friendly chat too, right?” I countered, “Relate it to me. I’m legitimately interested in what you have to recount”
“As you wish” She complied, “I haven’t divulged this to anyone in what feels like ages… but have you noticed how well I fit in as ruler of the Krystal Kingdom?”
“Yes” I answered with a curt bob of my head, “Your subjects openly adore you in public and behind closed doors (‘Yet when she dons the simplest disguise, suddenly she disappears from their radar’). They seem to be naturally accustomed to your sympathetic nature, which I personally find odd, since their last ruler left such a terrible impression”
Her eyes had a tickled gleam to them, “There are deeper reasons for that than you realize, Zenith. I share distant relations to the inhabitants of the Krystal Kingdom” Her gaze gravitated to the marks on her hands, “It’s been diluted over time, but many of my traits can be derived from these people”
“Neapolitan is too modest with the description of her descent” Sunshine grinned, “She has a direct linkage to a former ruler of the Krystal Kingdom… a Princess Amore, if memory serves”
“Yes, that’s the one” The woman admitted shyly, “You could say that my innate charm as a Princess is in my blood”
“Fascinating” I vocalized sincerely, “But there’s more to it than that, yes?”
“If you mean for me to elucidate on the significance of that, it’s steeped in a tragedy that has only recently been rectified” She crossed her hands over the other, “My ancestor, Princess Amore, was deposed by Sombra, whose dark magicks were too powerful for her to overcome” Her lips twitched, “He kept her as entertainment for a time, chaining her to a post by his throne as a reminder of his conquest and habitually treating her like she was a toy to be abused. Seeing their Princess in humiliating captivity cowed her former subjects, who were too afraid of him to mount an effective resistance” Her stormy expression worsened, “He eventually grew bored of his plaything and plotted to execute her publicly to permanently crush any hopes that the people fostered in their hearts” She let a silence hang in the air, adding to the false suspense that she was weaving.
“Well it’s exceedingly obvious that he didn’t succeed in that” I unabashedly ruined the moment, “What happened? Did he change his mind?”
Sunshine piped up before she could, “The day of the execution was the same day that my sister and I came to the aid of the Krystal Kingdom. You might be wondering how we made our arrival so timely? Well, one of Sombra’s mining slaves had been beaten near to death by one of his shadowy thralls and left in the snow to die a slow death of starvation or hypothermia. By sheer force of willpower and a fortuitous break in the pounding snowy weather, she crawled south a distance of some thirty miles before someone spotted her unconscious in the drifts and nursed her back to health over the period of a month” She was in awe of this person’s survival drive even to this day from that hushed tone, “When she came to, she tearfully pleaded to the man who found her and told him about the dilemma facing her people, urging him to send help”
“She was lucky that her rescuer was a flyer, and just so happened to be in the guard patrol that monitored the Arcanian border” Neapolitan remarked, “He set off with all possible haste to report what he had heard to their Highnesses in their latterly constructed Castle in the Neverfree Forest. Despite how the Krystal people had established their own independent dominion outside of the cartographically Arcanian borders, the wise Princesses felt it was their duty to dispose of oppression wherever they found it, and learning that Sombra was using deeply forbidden magic to enslave his subjects was the last, damning nail in the coffin”
“I see then. How tough was the deranged usurper as an opponent? What sort of tactics did he employ when faced with someone, or two people I should be saying, who could challenge him?” I quizzed her.
“Nothing my sister and I could not overcome. He fought savagely, but the magic he had been employing had begun to rot his mind, so there was no discernable pattern in his attacks. He would tear buildings out of their foundations to hurl at us one second, and the next he would be slithering behind the masses to use them as a shield from our magical bolts” Sunshine grit her teeth, “I was not able to save as many people from being caught in the crossfire as I would have liked, but he was brought down before the casualties could climb to unacceptable levels. Princess Amore had used the distraction to break free of her enthralled escort and make a break to the edges of the city along with everybody else who fled. With what my sister and I hoped was his dying breath, the dissipating Sombra cast one final, devastating spell that interfered with the flow of time itself around the Citadel district, tearing open a rift that pulled the district and everyone unfortunate enough to be within its radius inside”
“My ancestor and nine thousand of her former subjects were homeless after that” Neapolitan picked up the slack, “With the warming energies that were radiated from the Crystal Heart absent, the battle scarred Kingdom in ruins, and Amore in no fit mental state to lead her people. The denizens banded together under the Princesses that had vanquished their dread master and promised them a new place to call home to the south, in Arcania”
She swigged the remnants of her coffee to wet her throat, “My ancestor made a normal life in a village where the people were tight knit and cared for each other like family, which she desperately needed in order to heal. Years passed, Princess Luna was banished to the Moon, and there was only one Princess to oversee an entire country that made the Krystal Kingdom look like a backwater hamlet in comparison. Amore Loveshine, as she had christened herself, became something of a matchmaker in her local village, before a handsome stranger whom even she was not prepared for swept her herself off of her feet. She started a family with this man, but never forgot her origins, spreading them to her children over bedtime tales that they themselves passed onto their offspring with time. Amore was from a noble line of Stellar Mages who were fairly elected to rule over the citizens of the Krystal Kingdom, but her spouse was not, so I was originally Valkyrian a decade or so over six hundred years after the events of the Kingdom’s disappearance from the stream of time”
This revelation was not particularly surprising to me, but I did see it as strange that I’d never had the chance to see her fly, ground lover that she was. Perhaps it was because there were more people to be had on the ground than in the sky. You can’t proliferate those sugary lovey dovey feelings with clouds, after all. Or can you? I imagine it wouldn’t be too difficult to infuse a rain cloud with the same love potion that Rarity once fed to me and sprinkle it on whoever you desire to play Cupid with. Best not keep that brain blast to myself though.
“And your ascendance?” I followed up, pushing away other ideas of what one could achieve by ‘making it rain’ so to speak.
“I grew up in the same village that Amore chose to settle down in” Neapolitan responded with her personal narrative, “I was raised listening to the same bedtime stories of a Princess who was forced to leave behind everything she knew and make her own way in a land that had been foreign to her in both customs and architecture”
She giggled as a reminiscent smile graced her features, “I suppose I should count myself lucky that she chose a community where every person was considered an extended member of a macrocosmic family. I was relied upon as one of the few groundside Skyborn residing in that village to tend to the weather and ensure that the crops grew strong and vibrant” She glanced slyly at me, “When I wasn’t too busy tasting clouds fancying that something that looked like cotton candy ought to taste like it, I was the sweetheart of the village, doing what I could to nudge young men and women into a relationships that would be beneficial to all parties. Love flourished in our village, and life for me was all but perfect” The happiness on her face faded, “That was before… she came”
‘Ah… the villainess shows herself’ I thought. The plot was thickening.
“She was alluring, and exotically beautiful for a Stellar Mage. She was statuesque, she had a fine figure, and her breasts were full. Men in the village were so drawn to her that they began to ignore their loves to dote on her, breaking many a heart and inflaming their jealousy. I was wary of her, to say the least. No woman could hold that kind of sway over men without there being a catch… and it was a nefarious one indeed. Turns out that she was using a love stealing spell that her drooling entourage was fueling her powers with” Neapolitan paled, “But what could I do to stop her? I was not a Stellar Mage like my ancestor, and even she could not stop Sombra no matter how skilled with magic she had been. And the sorceress, who called herself Prismia, was immensely powerful with that amplifying necklace she wore. Any woman who contested her was swept aside with a wave of her hand, often brutally. The men who guarded our village were hypnotized by her and would not lift a finger against her. If I had confronted her then as I had desperately wanted to, I doubt we’d be having this conversation today”
“No need to be ashamed, Missus Swirl. Discretion is the better part of Valor” I let loose an axiom that I felt fitting her bygone situation.
“History agrees with you, Zenith” Sunshine added her two bits, “The courage to stand up against evil must be tempered with the wisdom in knowing how to undo it. There are old heroes, and there are bold heroes… but old and bold heroes are a rarity indeed”
“I know…” She demurred, “But it still stings. I could finally fathom how helpless Amore must have felt when her people were shackled. I wanted to flee the village and obtain help, but she had set up spells that would alert her of anyone leaving and she would force them back inside. It got so bad that at one point I wished upon a shooting star for the strength to end her chokehold over our village”
A mysterious gleam was in her eye, “I had a dream that night… one which I’m not so sure was actually a dream. I was following a trail of light through the woods and over a bridge with many fractures and cracks on it that led me to the summit of a massive rocky spire unlike anything I had ever seen. A series of harmonious voices bid me to step within an Arch of masterfully carved stone. The rest of the dream is a private matter… but I learned that I had a destiny beyond that village that I would be needed for someday. Suffice it to say that when I woke up, I was no longer just a Valkyrian, but a mix of all three clans”
“Like everyone present at this table” I stated, rather than asked.
She held up a hand, “Not so loudly please. Yes, like you and Miss Sunshine over here” She grinned viciously at the millennia old Princess, who was slurping at her second helping of coffee, “So when can I begin planning your wedding?”
Sunshine’s reaction was more than I was expecting from the usually composed woman, spraying a twin stream of caffeine from her nose and frenetically cleaning it up with her napkin. All the while she avoided making eye contact with me, her face red as a beet. I didn’t know whether to be honored or disturbed that I was one of the few chinks in her impassive armor.
I was not amused, tapping two fingers on the table, “Let’s stay on topic here, shall we?”
Neapolitan’s simper soured, “Aww… you’re no fun. Anyways, with my newfound capabilities that I had to hone in secret, I was able to stand face to face with Prismia and demand that she cease her cruel and oppressive exploitation of my village. She was arrogant though; all of the power that she had accumulated fogged her mind and ability to reason, engendering her to believe that she was invincible. I’m not really a forceful person, but trading blows with Prismia somehow instinctively came to me. Luckily I had the foresight to call her out in an uninhabited meadow, or our village would have been a smoking crater by the time we were done. Even as a Trifect, the fight took everything I had before I bested her in combat. The last vestiges of her magic expended, the defeated Prismia lamented her sorrow to the world, honestly thinking that I would… kill her, then and there” She was disgusted by the idea, “I asked her why she was the way she was. Why she would have to drain the love from others in order to feel validated about herself”
“And how did this villainess attempt to justify herself?” If she was another of those ‘power for the sake of power’ types, I was going to switch subjects.
“She revealed to me that she suffered from a crippling low self esteem, and a requirement to have affection heaped onto her to help her forget that. Compounding this problem was an arranged marriage that her old fashioned aristocratic family made for her to improve their standing. It was a loveless one at that, her husband ignoring her or treating her like she was just another maid in the manor” Neapolitan sounded sympathetic, which was to be expected, “She did not possess her magnetizing looks back then. But one day while she was cleaning house, she happened upon her husband’s dusty collection of magical artifacts; one of which was the amplifying necklace that she was wearing”
Neapolitan wrung her hands, uncomfortable with what she had been told, “She experimented with it at first, seizing tiny amounts of affection in the air that her lord husband sometimes showed to his other, more attractive wives. Thinking to herself that she could receive the attention that he lavished on them if she were prettier, she used the built up magic to painstakingly alter her appearance to become desirable. She made a display of showing off her cosmetic improvements, but all her husband saw was that she had his property around her neck. He struck her,” Neapolitan winced, “and angrily demanded that she return what was his. Something inside of Prismia shattered, and she almost killed him in her rage, storming off into the world to capture the love that had been denied to her. Our village was the perfect target for her. It was relatively isolated, and without many male magic users who could inwardly detect that they were being manipulated by her false charm”
“Tragic background story” I acknowledged, “So what did you do with your vanquished opponent?” Was this Princess a killer, or was she a redeemer? It was likely the latter. Cadence just does not have it in her to be a slayer.
“I talked to her, treated her as a fellow human being rather than my enemy, and… commiserated with her” She didn’t know of a better way to phrase it, “You see… while I saw myself as one of the local matchmakers, I hadn’t much luck with boys myself. I had an incapacitating awkwardness in my early years that many men simply didn’t have the patience to put up with, so I was alone. I mean… the people in the village were like second family to me, but I didn’t have a special someone to love me and only me. Selfish of me, I know, and it decreased my already abysmally low chances considerably. I still had an intuitive comprehension of love though, and I told poor, mistreated Prismia that love… real love… was given, not taken. She had been my enemy not ten minutes ago, and yet I only saw a forlorn soul that needed to be loved. To prove to her that she didn’t need emotion draining magic to feel loved, I pulled her up onto her feet and declared that I forgave her. And that I as her friend would help her find someone who could love her for her unadulterated self”
“And she was okay with this arrangement?” I was skeptical as ever. The forgiving or naïve heroes were especially vulnerable to getting backstabbed by unrepentant or lying enemies.
Neapolitan smirked, “I can be most persuasive when I get in one of my grooves, and she was hardly in any position to argue. The strangest thing occurred then. Prismia’s necklace detached itself from her and shone so brightly that it was like a second sun in the sky. I heard eerily familiar voices proclaim that I had taken the first step in becoming the Princess of Love and these appeared” She gestured to her Mana Marks, which looked suspiciously like the Crystal Heart with a gilded frame underneath, “I was very excited, since those had eluded me for quite some time, and dates tend to go awry when you’re still a bland hand in early adulthood. But my enthusiasm knew no bounds when the obliged Prismia accepted my friendship and announced that she would not seek to take love, but to garner it the natural way. She was a changed woman, and knew that she had to atone for some of her crimes, as well as file for a messy divorce… but Prismia and I remained on favorable terms for the rest of her life”
“I’m glad. And what about your recognition as a Princess of Arcania?” I inquired, finding solace in the fact that not all evildoers stayed the course when given a chance to change.
“Well Aunty…” Neapolitan began.
“I was instantly made aware to the abnormally powerful burst of magic that necklace emitted” Sunshine interrupted, having sufficiently recovered from her embarrassment, “I investigated personally and discovered that this marvelous young woman had become a Trifect just like myself. Obviously, it stood to reason that she was meant for a life vastly greater in scope than she anticipated, so I visited her often to tutor her on what it meant to be a Princess of a country like ours. I confess that my sister’s absence still weighed heavily upon my heart, so when her attachments to her village had expired, I asked if she wanted to come to the Capital with me as my adopted Niece and she agreed”
“I couldn’t well refuse an invitation from the reigning Princess, now could I?” Neapolitan jocosely retorted, “Besides… I wanted to see the world outside my miniscule village; the colorful flower fields, the forests, the mountains, everything! I had made many good friends in that village… but to stay around their laughing and bouncing children and descendants hurt too much. Immortality is both a blessing and a curse, Zenith. People you forge friendships with will come and go with increasing speed the longer you’ve been alive. They can be healthy and energetic presently, but in what seems like the blink of an eye… they’re gone” She was somber as she finished that sentence.
“I’m perfectly conscious of this, Missus Swirl, and I’ve made my peace with it” I said, not afraid of facing the inevitable.
She eyed me critically, “You say that with ease now, Zenith… but give it time and you’ll see my meaning”
‘Geez, she doesn’t have to make it sound so ominous’ I wordlessly griped, mentally rolling my eyes.
“This is why we cherish every moment we are permitted with those whom we care about, and continue to honor the memories that they leave behind” Sunshine interjected, defusing any negative static between us, “As Trifects, we are members of our own special family. We lean on each other for support and shoulder each other’s woes, and we also celebrate the positive aspects of our lives as well”
I golf clapped, “I am inspired by your wisdom, Sunshine. I can only pray that I might one day rise to your level of acumen. But if that is the case, then why isn’t your sister here right now to share that sentiment?”
“There are only so many days that the rulers of this country can spend away from their court” Sunshine answered without skipping a beat, “My sister decided that it was past time she returned to hers”
My face contorted in confusion, “Why? She rarely gets more than a dozen people requesting an audience, and none of those are appellants for legislation that you have decreed” And yes, it is possible to contest a law if the Princess you appeal to finds it averse, in which case they have to collectively vote on it. It hasn’t happened once since Luna’s ‘timeout’ on the Moon, for even the testiest of nobles respect the decisions that their Highnesses make.
“To keep a close eye trained on Discord, of course” Sunshine replied, “His internal reformation aside, he forgets to mind himself should we be absent for a period lasting longer than five days. I’d like to return to a Capital that is more or less the same state I had left it”
“Good point” I conceded, before turning to Neapolitan, “And you were being too modest about your origins, I think it made for an evocative story” I had gleaned quite a bit from it too.
She inclined her head towards me, “I’m pleased that you are of that opinion, Zenith. It’s not a story that many get to hear”
Sunshine waved over a waiter to collect the platters that each of us polished off, “This has been an interesting brunch. We ought to make a habit of this more frequently” She proposed.
Neapolitan laughed, “I agree wholeheartedly… though next time it should be somebody else who relays the rudimentary tale of their intimate origins. Sunshine here has refused to divulge even the tiniest juicy details about your mysterious past” She made it her aim to stare at me as she spoke, “Would you volunteer for that, Zenith?”
“Perhaps” I uttered neutrally. ‘Perhaps not’
She hummed, “Hmm… I look forward to learning more about you. But until that lunch date occurs,” She rose from her seat, “I’m afraid duty calls for me back at the Citadel. There is a petition to build a second railway alongside the current one to facilitate traffic to and fro that I’ll have to dig into our allotted stipend from the Crown in order to fund it with, and you know how tiresome that mountain of paperwork can get. Farewell” The woman dug into her purse and left a generous tip for the hardworking staff of the Blackgate Bistro, leaving Sunshine and I alone.
“Waiter” Sunshine addressed the man who came to collect the top, “Do be so kind as to bring us two cups of Spring Forest Tea, would you?”
His pupils dilated upon receiving another order, “Of course, ma’am… I’ll steep two cups right away!” He hurried off to the kitchen.
“Is it you and me time?” I vocalized, wondering what else we’d have to discuss.
“This is resuming where we had left off before you had Neapolitan spill her life’s story. I need to brief you on your first mission as my Agent, as well as outline a comprehensive list of your enabled powers and jurisdiction” She drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for our tea, “Do you know what it means to be an Agent of the Crown?” She quizzed me.
“Accomplishing errands assigned by the Crown?” I guessed, not putting much thought into it.
“A lackluster description” Sunshine eye rolled, “But accurate enough to pass with a D plus. To be an Agent of the Crown is to be an extension of the Crown’s authority itself, which is why I was displeased with how poorly Daring Do handled her assignment in Marabia, potentially weakening our ties with that country when alliances are what Arcania will need to survive whatever wretched scheme the latest evil lurking in the shadows will attempt to subvert world Harmony with”
“So being an Agent is essentially equal to being a diplomat with various other skills in their repertoire?” I surmised.
“There are stratified ranks of authority that Agents of the Crown are vested with” Sunshine explained, “Depending on the class, an Agent can be a mere member of the Bureaucracy tasked with the tedium of maintaining law and order at the lowest level, to a person whose decisions can alter the world itself”
“So… when do I start sweeping the streets?” I jested, to which she clicked her tongue.
She shook her head, “There’s a time and place for such flippancy, Zenith. You are to be vested with a ranking that will break the mold. Do you have the hilt for your Mage-blade?”
I reached for my belt and unhooked it before slapping it onto the table, drawing some stares from startled diners nearby. Sunshine huffed disapprovingly through her nostrils and delicately took the hilt in her possession. With a free hand, she made a curling gesture like she was an illusionist about to fan out a deck of cards before an emblem materialized into her palm (Or maybe she was being an illusionist). She inserted it into the ovular gap in the center of the hilt and incanted a spell under her breath that was difficult to make out even with my keen hearing. The emblem flashed before sealing itself securely onto my Mage-blade’s hilt. On the emblem was a black field and a symbol of the Sun and Moon partially overlapped across the other, with an image of Dichotomy interspaced in the gap between them. In the background were ethereal crimson wings (an overt reference to their ruggedly handsome owner) that curved upwards in a way that reminded me of the symbol of the Jedi Order. Overall, it was a kickass badge that helped me ignore the missing hole.
‘Guess I’ll have to exchange the hook for a different attachment’ I groused, debating over whether to use a clip or sword frog to keep the hilt securely fastened to my belt for uncomplicated access.
She handed it back to me, “Recall how Luna told you that your Mage-blade hilt would serve as your badge of office? She was not jesting”
I hefted the hilt in my palm appraisingly, testing the weight that the insignia added, and was relieved that it was negligible, “I never had much cause to rely on it for the political influence that it carried” Just to kill lots and lots of baddies.
“There will be situations where your sword must remain sheathed, Zenith” Sunshine pointed out, “Lethal force isn’t the solution to every problem, and some matters can only be made worse with its inclusion”
“A fair point” I concurred, “But my skills with careful diplomacy as of yet are untested, whereas my skill with a blade is not”
“Try to shy away from picking too many fights” Sunshine grimaced, “Your purpose is better served by making allies rather than enemies. As for your concerns regarding a lack of negotiating experience, you can always call on me for advice” She reached into a pocket in her suit and withdrew a vial with a live pink flame in its contents, bequeathing that to me as well.
“Pink” I monotoned as I shuffled it into my inventory, “It will be difficult to forget whose hotline that belongs to”
“That is… one way to phrase it” She stifled a chuckle, “That vial of dragon fire is enchanted to be able to send a truncated message no matter where in the world you find yourself, regardless of availability to the ley line network. It is from the lungs of a Dragon Matriarch who passed away some five hundred years ago, and has been able to send half a page worth of text from the middle of the Sea of Tranquility, where the ley lines are notoriously fickle. There are none like that vial in the entire world except for its twin, so keep it close”
‘There’s a joke about a crappy cellular connection in the back of my brain somewhere’ I mused dryly as I fitted the vial into the recess behind my belt’s metallic infinite triangle.
“Speaking of that treacherous Sea” Sunshine continued, “You will have a second task after the beginning of the New Year”
I hitched a brow, “Anything I should be warned about?”
She declined to fill me in, “It can wait until you have completed this one and been debriefed on what I suspect these ‘Thunder-Horrors’ to be. I wouldn’t want to saddle you with any more stress than is necessary. There is another spell woven into the emblem that will allow me to personally listen in on whatever situations you get yourself into and render aid in whatever way I can” She hesitated, debating how to express herself, “Plus… I care for you, and want you to know that even when I’m half a world away, I’m still there for you”
“That’s sweet” I said, leaning over to give her a passionate kiss on the lips, “Try to tune out the din of people screaming though. You would not believe how often trouble finds me”
She mirrored it with fervor, “I’m not the same woman from an obscure village in the Dreamy Vale that I was” She asserted between kisses, “Try me”
We enjoyed each other’s warmth with gusto until the waiter arrived with our tea, and Sunshine’s expression lit up with that same enthusiasm that was a sign that everything was going her way. I meanwhile was wiping off the purple lipstick that our necking session imparted me with. Didn’t want the stiff necks forming the wrong ideas about my improper romantic habits.
“May I talk to you about something?” I put forward to the Princess who was masquerading as a common, if not classily dressed, plebeian.
“Of course, Zenith. Anything” She tilted her head in curiosity.
“Up on that summit after we had dealt with Cross, when the wizard and I were cradling you and your sister in our arms, he referred to me by name” Or at least the name I had given myself, “When we first met, from my perspective that is, you looked at me in that knowing way of yours that’s nigh impossible to extrapolate anything specific from. Did you know who I really was?”
In response Sunshine’s lips curled upwards, “Not entirely. I was barely coherent enough to make out anything other than that wonderful song that encouraged me to wake” I picked up on her leg rubbing affectionately against mine beneath the table, “But a part of me always knew that you were extraordinary, my crimson eyed Prince, and now so does the rest” She doted on me with fond tones.
“You sure know how to make a guy feel special” I replied, doing all I could to fend off the warm fuzzies. Right now they were knocking at the gate with a battering ram. I’d have to stem the tide with emotion retardant oil via the murder holes.
I let my cup sit idle until the liquid had cooled to drinkable levels, “So I’m your official Agent now. Do you really believe that will deter the Press from investigating me for my true nature? People saw me using my wings and my magic in the stadium. Seems like a pretty flimsy dismissal by my standards”
“Did they?” Celestia smiled as she sipped at her tea (‘Leather tongue much?’), “What were you wielding when you cast that column of flame skyward?”
My hand drifted to the weapon strapped to my backside, “My magic boosting Tantō?”
“M’hmm…” Sunshine murmured, swallowing some of her drink, “And I was certain to mention that to the reporters. My Agents are sometimes known to utilize equipment that extends their abilities when permitted. Misdirecting the journalists is easy when you have plausible deniability on your side. There is no evidence to the contrary to prove what you are, so to the Press you are just a special Skyborn recently inducted into the Crown’s service”
“And to the people of Magiville? They know me as a Stellar Mage” I retorted, “How can you be sure that they’ll keep quiet about that discrepancy?”
“Magiville is an insular town, which has been its weakness thus far, but will be your reassurance in this case” Sunshine gyrated the liquid in her cup, “They might ask you about it when you deign to socialize with them, but otherwise they won’t cost you your preference for privacy. It’s a misdemeanor to unduly harass an Agent of the Crown for whatever reason”
“I suppose that will have to be my consolation” I sighed, “What powers will I specifically have as an Agent?”
She held up two fingers, “You will be second only to the Princesses in your capacity for forging treaties and alliances with foreign powers at the table. Your word alone won’t be legally binding, but signed accords will be equal to any we would make. I intend to publicize an official statement about your investiture the following week, and while I expect there to be some uproar from the Concordian nobility, mainly those who aspire similar positions for their second borns and lesser sons, it shouldn’t cause much of a disturbance now that Blueblood has been made to appreciate logic over his misplaced sense of pride” She was elated that I managed to set him straight, “To guarantee optimal chances of success, you have the freedom to use whatever means are available to you to achieve your objectives, including lethal force. Foreign powers pretend to be indifferent to the Agents that we appoint within our own borders, but they will be mindful of you when you pay them a visit. It’s not everyday that I announce the instatement of a Royal Agent with some significant clout after all. Many places in the world outside Arcania can house serpents, Zenith. So be wary”
“Noted. Will the Buffalo Braves respect this imposing authority of mine?” I finally had a sip of the tea, which was incredibly tasty, like the joy of being alive condensed into a flavor if that was even possible, “They live within the Arcanian borders, but they seem to consider themselves their own political entity”
Sunshine scoffed and reclined in her chair, “They claim to have been the original inhabitants of Arcania, but they have only been dwelling here for eight centuries after they migrated from the south beyond the Macintosh Mountains. They reside here because I allow them to, and while it would grieve me terribly to do it, I would forcibly relocate them if they threatened my citizens. Feel free to remind them of that if they behave obstinately”
I shifted in my seat myself, “Hopefully it won’t come to that, as long as I retrieve this Miss Strongheart and return her to her tribe, right?”
She nodded, “Miss Jubilee is watching over her while also discouraging her from eloping somewhere else where her movements cannot be tracked. From her reports, she is having a tough time of it. Strongheart is very headstrong and fears potential pursuers, from what she wrote”
“What about Braeburn?” I posed, “What’s his role in this?”
“He is the model of well behaved young man, according to the Ranch owner” Sunshine said, “His only concern is his lover’s safety. Though he shows signs of worrying about the precarious position he left his town in”
“So he fathoms how his actions have endangered his townsfolk? Excellent, that should make convincing him to escort his girlfriend back to her home a snap… it’s Strongheart that will doubtlessly put up the most resistance” I can respect independent women myself, but their lack of compliance in favor of selfish desires is definitely a shortcoming.
“As I’ve told you, you have permission to bring her back, by any means necessary” Sunshine smirked at me, “Though do what you can to also coax her home. Dragging back the Chieftain’s daughter kicking and screaming is bound to reflect poorly on us”
“It won’t come to that, I think” Mostly because I’ll have pacified her with a stun spell.
“Miss Applejack will be accompanying you, by the way” Sunshine informed me like it was just minutia.
I shrugged noncommittally, “If you insist. Does AJ know of this?” There was no point in arguing with her admittedly prudent choice. I just prayed that she wouldn’t get in the way.
“For the most part” She replied, quirking a brow, “You have no objections to this?”
I shook my head, “Other than the plain risk to her health? No. Applejack is without doubt the most sensible and practical of the Element Bearers, and she’s kin with Braeburn. If anyone can speak sense to him, it’s his own blood. In addition, Applejack knows the lay of the land better than I do and won’t need any babysitting on my part” Plus I don’t have an accent (nor will I ever cultivate one), and when in the midst of those who have a colloquial method of speech, the foreigner is immediately mistrusted. At least, that’s in line with some of the movies I’ve seen, maybe it doesn’t matter so much here.
“I expected more resistance from you,” Sunshine remarked, “but I’m gladdened that you have such faith in her. You have bonded well during your time in Magiville?” She had sent me there to be friendly with the Elements in the first place.
“If by bonded you mean worked me to the bone plucking apples on her orchard, then yes. We bonded rigorously” I stated with obscure sarcasm, “But the veritable truth is that AJ and I get along well, our occasional spats regarding when to be Honest and when to be shrewd notwithstanding”
“You will need to be honest with her about why you both will be traveling to Dodge Junction instead of staying cozy at home with a mug of warm cocoa in hand. Miss Applejack is entitled to know why her cousin is being sought by a Royal Agent” She pressured sternly.
I dipped my head in consent, “I hear you loud and clear. Is there anything else we should discuss before we part?”
“Minor details involving our projects, yes” She admitted, “One of the engineers that you referred to us, a Mister Gizmo, is requesting leave to spend the Holidays with his inamorata. His ideas have been pivotal in getting many of the projects off the ground and into the second stage. He has suggested workarounds for issues stumping some of my staff that have not only solved the problem, but have increased efficiency of the prototypes by a sizable margin”
“Grant it” I agreed immediately, “A man cannot utilize his mind effectively if yearning thoughts about his beloved constantly plague him. Happy workers are motivated workers~” I quoted in a sing song voice.
Sunshine drained the last of her tea, “Out of curiosity, what did that man owe you a favor for exactly?”
I wasn’t expecting that question to be put forth, “Erm… I set him up with the woman he’s asked leave to spend Hearth’s Warming with” For which she was only slightly grateful for… the cranky broad.
Sunshine snorted before she burst out into a delighted peal of laughter, “Neapolitan would love to hear about that! Why Zenith, I never knew you shared her penchant for playing matchmaker” She ribbed me sportively.
My left eyelid twitched, “I’ve found myself doing a lot of things I never thought I’d do since being spirited away to this wacky section of reality” I grumbled testily.
Sunshine saw my agitation and relented, “Drink your tea. It’ll help you relax that tenseness of yours, Zenith”
I obeyed, emptying the cup in one long draft, “My apologies, Sunshine. I may have acknowledged this land as my home now. But it will be many, many years before I truly feel like I’ve settled into it”
She slid the chair back and stood to her feet, “If there’s one thing we Trifects have an overabundance of, it’s years” She passed by me, brushing a soothing hand along my shoulders, “Have you given thought to what you’ll use as transportation in the South? The scarcity of civilization means wide open expanses of dust and sand that you would be remiss in traversing on foot”
I exhaled as she gently stroked the sensitive region where my ethereal wings were housed, “They have horses there, right? I’ll just purchase a few for AJ and I to avail ourselves of”
“A wise plan” Sunshine complimented me before leaning down and whispering in my ear, “But thankfully an unnecessary one. I’ve already arranged for your coursers to be delivered to Dodge Junction into the care of Miss Jubilee… one of whom is a direct descendant of an old companion of yours”
That nabbed my attention, “Night Wind!?”
She giggled, finding my rare display of excitement amusing, “There have been seven by that name, but this generation’s best goes by North Wind, though I understand that his younger brother Dusk Breeze is a close second”
“You kept Night Wind?” I was still shocked. Starswirl and I had left him behind at the Inn, so only he knew…
Sunshine saw the realization dawn on my face, “Our mutual friend recommended him as a Royal Steed for the palace stables for when we established the United Kingdom of Arcania, claiming that no other horse proved his mettle the way he had. He was not wrong in making this recommendation. Night Wind served my sister and I faithfully as a warhorse and casual rider for many years, passing his traits down over centuries of swift Stallions and Mares that we house at the base of Concordia’s mountain in a custom built stable. The fact that his masters were once Acolytes was just ironic icing on the metaphorical cake”
‘Leave it to Celestia to derive a cake analogy out of a discussion on the wonders of horseflesh’ I mentally eye rolled. I admire this woman so much, but her fixation on cake perplexes me to no end, even after viewing her deeply entrenched memories.
“I…” This revelation blew me away. I didn’t think I’d ever see his like again, “…look forward to meeting his progeny. Night Wind was a superb companion, without him I doubt we’d have been able to find you and aid you in actualizing your destiny”
I could all but hear the beatific smile in her tone, “I thought you might like this development” She kissed my neck, sending an electric tingle up and down my spine and causing Goosebumps to prickle my skin, “Consider him my early Hearth’s Warming present to you”
Sunshine was dangerously close to getting me to blush, “D’aww… and I haven’t even given a moment’s cogitation as to what I should get you” What could a man like me get for the woman who owned an entire kingdom and commanded the Sun to rise that would be special?
“I have you, Zenith” She kissed me again, “To me that’s as good as a thousand Hearth’s Warming gifts combined” With that heart melting comment uttered, she made her exit and left me to deal with another onset of the warm fuzzies. This time they brought up the siege engines.
⁂
I turned in betimes that night after having given Rainbow Dash some pointers on archery (the girl really took to the sport, and learned quickly on top of it) in the stadium. I saw nothing of Applejack that day, who her friends told me was off somewhere purchasing food items like crystal berry jam from the markets that she wouldn’t have the chance to do for a while after we’d departed. Rarity dragged me along with Fluttershy on a shopping trip under the excuse that she needed scintillating fabrics from the Krystal Kingdom that could not be found anywhere else in the world, and the Fluttershy suggested that we stop by the crystal mud baths for the rejuvenating experience of a lifetime (The mineral soak didn’t do much for me, since my skin was just shy of flawless by the tittering attendant’s definition). Twilight consulted me for my opinion on some arcane tomes that she was browsing in the library. Pinkie Pie mercifully let me be that day, occupying herself by buying up the Kingdom’s supply of discounted Flugelhorns after the conclusion of the games. By the time everything was said and done, I was mentally exhausted. Socializing to that degree takes actual effort from me that I usually have difficulty putting in.
The last thing my groggy eyes wanted to see as I opened the door to my room was Discord lounging backwards on my bed with that damnable, snaggletooth grin on his face. His mismatched outfit consisted of a plastic biker’s jacket, unaltered penny loafers, a fez, and corduroy pants that had been torn and hastily repaired in multiple places with sewn on patches. It made me ponder on whether Discord conjured it up that way, or if he did his own needlework.
“Hello, my dear lad. I sense that you’ve wanted to speak to me? Perhaps regarding a certain favor that you’ve held in reserve until now?” He chirped in that knowing tone that had every irritating inflection in it, “Best make it fast! Little Lulu won’t be fooled for long by the button eyed dummy of yours truly that I left in my office. As astounding a job he does of replicating my handsome features, nothing quite matches up to the real thing”
‘At least he isn’t Femcord this time’ I thought with palpable relief.
I mashed a hand on my forehead and rubbed it, “You picked a terrible time of day to bring it up”
“Funny you should refer to Luna’s night that way” Discord remarked, brushing his gnarly fingernails against his chest and huffing on them before inspecting each like a woman would, “If I wasn’t the chaotic clairvoyant that I know I am, I’d hazard a guess to say that you and the Sunny lady were together now?”
If he was trying to get under my skin, he had already beaten himself to the punch, “It is possible” I neutrally voiced, neither confirming nor denying it, “What is it to you? It’s nothing you haven’t been hinting at since you messed with her tea and removed her licentious inhibitions” The memory of those sensual tones of hers still made me shiver, though whether in anxiety or anticipation was hard for me to discern.
“Boy, you are really racking an impressive number of women who adore you” He seemed nearly jealous or genuinely confounded, “And there are no signs of that trend ceasing either!”
“Sure, I’m a regular Casanova. An authentic ladies’ man” I yawned, “Can I call in that favor now? Or are you just here to be bothersome?”
“Tsk tsk” Discord articulated instead of sounding it, “All that time in Magiville has taught you so little about patience, it’s such a crying shame”
“Patience loses its appeal when I’m a hair’s breadth away from passing out” I quipped unrepentantly, swaying on my toes before pitching forward onto the bed. Discord let loose an indignant yelp and ‘poofed’ out of the way, his cotton candy smelling cloud coalescing into his full body next to me.
Discord huffed, dusting himself off, “The Elements worked you over, did they? How rude of them. Ruining my verbally based fun before it can be had!” I twisted over to see him cross his arms together, “What wish shall the genie of bureaucracy grant you?” His genie accent was impeccable.
I pulled up my hood so that it didn’t bunch up against the nape of my neck, “Bandits are running amok in the southwest, as you probably know, wielding weapons that the locals have reported as ‘Thunder-Horrors’. It doesn’t take a genius to piece together that’s a superstitious codename for guns”
Discord failed to make out my implicit meaning, “Your point?”
I made it simple for him, “I need a firearm of my own to counter this advantage of theirs” Archaic as their flintlock and lead ball guns might be in this world, I was still at a disadvantage range wise. Magical bolts of destructive energy weren’t a speedy enough substitute either.
He scowled, “I’m not that kind of Bureaucrat. And why waste an open favor from me on one of those? You could just cross the Sea of Tranquility and purchase one of those distasteful objects for yourself… assuming that you’re in friendly with Baron Van der Griff’s people, and they guard those closer than they would their own newborn children” He added offhandedly, a bonnet appearing on his head along with a babified version of himself cradled in his arms and sucking at a bottle of milky formula.
I shuffled that info to the side for now and fake chuckled, “I need something a tad more modern than what they’d have to offer… something with some serious stopping power” And a six round chamber, and double action… basically the whole shebang.
He flung the baby Discord out the window, the noise of shattering glass and a cat screeching followed shortly after, “Do you even know how to handle what you are asking me for?” He eyed me critically, his voice as serious as I’ve ever heard it, putting me on alert.
“I have been on a range before, so I am not an absolute neophyte with guns” I retorted, “Will you let me cash in this favor or not? I’m leaving first thing in the morning to attend to the situation stewing in the southwest before it comes to a boil. Having a big iron like that at my side would be very reassuring, especially if these outlaws mean business” Which was almost always the case, so I would not let this drop until he obliged me.
He stroked his beard, putting legitimate thought into it, “It’s not the favor I was hoping you’d specify, but it has the potential to be even more entertaining than painting every tree with polka dots or switching everyone’s gender for a day. Eh… why not” He tendered his hand innocently to me, “Shake on it?”
Exhausted as I was, I foolishly clasped hands with him… and that excruciatingly familiar sensation of magic being torn from my body promptly put me under.
I ‘awoke’ in what had to be an altered version of the conception canvas with a yowl. The colors were like something out of a bad trip, swirling and coagulating in the background like some kindergartner’s idea of finger painting. In a frenzied panic, I scanned around until I saw the semi transparent figure of Discord hovering not three feet from my astral projection. He wasn’t in the middle of attacking me, sporting a look of mild concentration, which allowed me to calm down and collect my thoughts.
“What the hell was that!?” I demanded from him, clenching my fists.
“I’m in the middle of granting you your favor” Discord had a distracted look in his eye, “I can form solid objects out of pure magic, but sadly, not permanent ones when they’re infused with chaotic energies… so I am manufacturing it from a stable mixture or yours and mine, along with a holster to accompany that already bulky belt of yours. I had to knock you out for it, otherwise you would be keeping half of the Krystal Kingdom awake with only your unamplified lungs, but you were planning on snoozing anyway… so everyone is satisfied” He smugly elaborated.
“At minimum, you should have given me fair warning” I scolded him in a low growl.
“And you should be mindful of entering into handshakes with self appointed Avatars of Chaos” He riposted calmly, “What if I had used the oldest trick in the book on you? It’d be a travesty for you to fall for the hand buzzer gag”
I threw my hands into the air, “I was tired! Which you took advantage of!”
“Do you want me to help you or not?” He shut me up with a single question.
I nodded begrudgingly, accepting my defeat with some semblance of grace.
“Then dispense with the whining. You are beginning to remind me of the ungrateful castle staff who’ve been assigned to me” He shut his eyes and resumed his intense state of concentration.
My head was on a swivel as I pored over what I presumed was a dreamscape, “What is this place anyway? Do you induce a dreamlike condition in me? Or a dream state?”
“You could call it either of those. In order…” He made a ‘bleuh’ noise with his throat, “…to ensure that you get the most out of this favor. I’ve created a lucid pocket in your inner subconscious that will accommodate us nicely. I have partial control of the facets that you won’t do anything with, and you get the rest to do with as you please”
To test his words, I erected a copy of Stonehenge but with rocks made out of pink marble instead of bluestones to check for versatility in my creative muscle. Grass sprouted from the ‘ground’ along with fragrant flowers to test which of my senses I retained here beside vision and touch. I couldn’t get the colorful sky to keep a single hue for long, despite my efforts. If the wacky Bureaucrat had any snide observations to make about my landscaping ideas, he wisely kept them to himself.
Discord hummed as he processed my body’s internal supply of mana, “You’ve gained a formidable upgrade to your magic recently. Coming into your true power are you? That was unusually generous of the Congress” His eyes widened before a growing smile appeared that threatened to swallow his face, “They must’ve deemed you their golden boy if they entrusted you with that. I’m jealous to say the least”
I innately understood what he was referring to, “I can only delve into that if events are at their most dire. And why would you be?” I inquired, “Your chaos magic makes you capable of almost anything” Including but not limited to rankling the crap out of me.
“Keyword there being almost, Zenith” Discord replied, “Even my unique, utterly magnificent (he bunched his fingers together before kissing them and fanning them out dramatically) brand of magic comes with its limits, and that was before I had the Princesses breathing down my neck for even the smallest outburst of Chaos! You’d think they didn’t trust me”
“You were their enemy once” I said softly, “It is surprising in any way that they would keep you under their strict supervision… this unsanctioned visit of yours being an apt example?” I tapped a foot on the featureless floor.
“Bah! You’ll vouch for me if they raise a commotion” He grunted, “And do they still hold me accountable for the actions of those pesky Acolytes? I’ve told them on countless occasions that what they did had nothing to do with me! I for one can cherish chaos in its multiple forms, but chaotic death is not one of them”
“I believe you on that much” I whispered, which couldn’t be hidden from him.
That got him to crack one eyelid open, “You speak as if you have first hand experience with their ilk”
I chortled anxiously, “Sure… let’s go with that”
Discord raised a brow, but did not seek to press the matter any further, “Here” He tossed a weapon to me, which I caught by the barrel before examining it, “I’ve taken your latent specifications and introduced a few modifications of my own so that people in the know will know that it’s some of my finest work. That is what you’re going to wake up with in the morning…” He pinched his right thumb and index fingers, “…along with a teensy, tiny headache. Be glad. It would have been a massive migraine if the Congress didn’t favor you as their champion. On a tangential note, you might experience a noticeable increase in… interesting dreams” He did not expand on what he meant by that or what the cause for that was.
I took his advice with several grains of salt and gave the dream gun in my hand my full, undivided awareness. The Magnum was similar in design to the Ambassador revolver from a favored video game of mine, fitting its description nearly to a tee. In spite of the amount of metal this gun was constructed with, it was acutely lacking in heft; weighing in at a feathery two and a half pounds (still suitably for conking somebody on the head if need be). The shining argent gun had a built in muzzle break along the barrel for recoil reduction and muzzle rise reduction from escaping gases. The barrel itself was seven inches in length and displayed an engraving of a winged dragon on the left side with a red outline and its jaws extended as if it were about to breathe fire at its soon to be dead enemies. On the right side was another engraving of the likeness of a scantily clad Celestia laying on her back in a suggestively recumbent pose, her flowing hair (I could ascertain it was her from the matching colors of the grooves for her hair) making up the rest of the outlines on the barrel.
I pushed on the latch release and flipped the round cylinder out for inspection, discovering that all six rounds (which were a standard .44 caliber Magnum if I wasn’t mistaken. For some reason the cases fit seamlessly into the tubes) were chambered. I sighed and resisted the urge to shoot Discord in the face for teasing me for who I chose to love, knowing that it would do me little good here, and probably little good in the waking world too. With the desire to vent my frustration by venting the nuisance of a Bureaucrat full of holes unable to be fulfilled, I consoled myself by appreciating the newest instrument in my deadly arsenal of problem solving tools. The sights were a flat U shaped green line made out of optical fiber that provided excellent contrast against the red strand of fiber optics nestled at the end of the barrel. The grip was made out of a lovely rosewood composition (the grip medallion was the same emblem as the one on the hilt of my Mage-blade) with a strip of rubber gripping lining the middle meant to cushion the doubtlessly monstrous recoil that high caliber revolvers were notorious for. The trigger and cocking hammer of this magnificent weapon were golden, which must have been a clever reference to Discord seeing me as the Constellar Congress’s golden boy.
Beneath the latch release and the semi wooded grip were a trio of ladybug sized buttons on the metal casing that I did not know the purpose of. It was difficult to tell, but the topmost button was the depiction of a projectile passing through a flat object, penetrating, and continuing through. The second was that of an expanding bullet unfurled like a morbid flower petal, which was a no brainer for a dumdum round. The third button was a symmetrical symbol for chaos, with sixteen arrows of varying sizes and an open eye with a starburst in its center in the middle. I didn’t take me long to realize that the three buttons were settings for the ammunition being fired, top for armor piercing, middle for hollowed point, and the third was a mystery that Discord would have to explain, but I had my inklings as to what it was. But how could that be? I flipped open the cylinder again and frowned when I noted that there was no push rod to eject spent cartridges. I used my pinkie finger to dislodge one of the bullets and my forehead creased as I scrutinized the indistinct rounded tip of the round. I pieced it together in my mind that there must have been some kind of magical basis in the functionality of my revolver.
“Liking it so far?” Discord lazily floated around me in a circle, “Of course you do! It’s everything you’d want in a firearm. It’s stylish, it appeals to your penchant for history, and it’s ridiculously powerful. I’m not joking for once. You can hunt and kill adult Manticores with that in a single shot if you’re unerring with your aim” He boasted, excessively proud of his craftsmanship, “There are additional features I’ve included that I’ll let you discover for yourself, provided you can think like me” His grimy whites filled my vision. Discord’s teeth were more animalistic than human, reminding me for the umpteenth time that this was not the most stable of beings to associate myself with.
“Yes, yes” I swatted at him to get him out of my face, “Thank you very much for the hand cannon, now leave me in peace so I can wake up already”
“Don’t be hasty, my lad!” He wiggled a finger at me as he absently dodged each swipe, “Normally I would be altogether acquiescent with unleashing you on the world without rating your competency with that thing, but as a reformed man and as a humble, paperwork filing cog in the collection of gears that is their Highnesses’ Bureaucracy, I must assess your competency with it first”
“Do we have the time for that?” I fussed, “I can just learn how to use it in an actual combat scenario the hard way. It’s what I did with my throwing knives” And I did decently well with those.
“That would be wasting this rare opportunity to hone your skills the medium-hard way, Zenith” Discord reproached me, “All of this…” He motioned about with his hands, “…is located deep in the airy confines of your subconscious. Your perception of time here is but a fraction of what it is outside of your slumber. I’m not one for the exact math, but the rounded answer is that for each hour of sleep you’ll get, twenty hours will be perceived here… and you hit the sack pretty early. I can project myself here and function out there simultaneously because I’m capable like that. You sir, have the power to train here with that weapon while I ensure that the realistic parameters will roughly match those of the outside world. Why throw it away so carelessly?”
“Passing up relative temporality like that to be productive would be a shame” I murmured before peeking up at Discord, “Would you do me the honor of being the Gamemaster?” I tentatively offered as my roundabout way of expressing gratitude.
He grinned sinisterly at me, “Are you certain you’ll want to trust me with that kind of influence? I’ll make rules, trash them, and make completely different and usually contradictory rules. Sometimes in the same sitting”
“Perhaps not” I conceded, “But it would make for a hell of a training program, wouldn’t it? Tell you what, if I can hit a target in the distance while still looking at your ugly mug… you agree to play”
I conjured a circular target thirty five yards away and brazenly took aim with one arm before pulling the trigger and activating the mechanism inside the casing. The double action revolver jerked back marginally due to my braced stance (another victory for Trifect strength!) from the recoil and issued a manly bark and report. The bullet smacked the edges of the metal target with a pinging echo with practically no flight time at all.
His grin stretched wider and he held out his fingers, “Not bad for your starting shot. I’ll be sure to go easy on you… for the first day anyhow” He snapped them once and I expeditiously doubted my keen sense of rationale.
And so began a protracted trial of endless drills of learning how to properly operate my weapon out in the field and under extreme duress. The scenarios were as diverse as they were realistically dangerous, from unexpected ambushes, duels at high noon, to all out gunfights. Discord pulled all the stops as my appointed Gamemaster (more like my drill sergeant) and put me through the grinder, taking away my ability to telekinetically reload my weapon after depleting the cylinder and forcing me to do it manually while under heavy fire from realistic looking faceless gunmen utilizing flintlock style pistols that weren’t terribly accurate, but stung like a mother when they struck true.
Discord, in a fit of madness or a sense of thoroughness in my school of hard knocks, told me that I would have to dig the bullet out my flesh with my knife before cauterizing the wound shut using the gunpowder from the horns of my fallen foes. Now that taught me something new about pain. It was an option for the worst case scenario, but when choosing between an ongoing life and an ignoble death, the former is one worth fighting for. Ol’ Discy never risked me dying in the dream though, since I would end up in limbo if I did, and even he dared not tread there to retrieve me, too many forbidden epiphanies that had to remain buried in the void, he had claimed from experience. There was a ghastly, haunted mood to his normally facetious demeanor afterwards for the rest of a dream day after that, and it made me ponder what this man had seen to dampen his spirit so.
The combat scenarios were as diverse as they were difficult and with backdrops that would definitely not be typical of the landscape near the town of Appleloosa. There were urban environments, some of which I recognized from movies and computer games, outdoor environments, zero gravity environments (that one was loads of fun), and underwater settings (The notion that my weapon had underwater functionality was… intriguing). I put up with the myriad of exotic locales, too occupied adjusting and getting the hang of things to care. That I was having loads of fun in such rip-roaringly chaotic situations helped offset the dizziness from the Bureaucrat’s arbitrary shenanigans a bunch, and Discord ostensibly claimed that I had a few things in common with him as well as the Princesses in this regard. Discord’s atypical choice of landscapes was queerly apposite and levelheaded for my training. Though just because I was being sent to the southwest didn’t mean that it was the only place I would have need of my latest weapon I reasoned. However, it could have done without the bizarre sound effects that Discord disjointedly tossed in from time to time, along with the weirdest musical tracks to shoot at the targets that eagerly shot back at me.
This magically constructed Magnum of mine was twice as hard hitting as its semi magical cartridge caliber suggested, punching through concrete blocks, solid steel plates of over an inch thickness (though only with the armor piercing mode selected which made the tip of the bullet conical and equal to the density of depleted uranium, but sans the toxicity), and an entire row of watermelons. When asked about this, Discord explained to me that some of the improvements in firepower had to do with his modifications, such as an absolute seal between the bullet in the chamber and the barrel, nigh indestructible alloys that could sustain the incredible pressures that the one of a kind propellant in those shells released upon deflagration, and the minor fact that the entire cartridge was expended upon firing. I couldn’t help my chuckle when he copied Cave Johnson’s commercial motto for the robotic turrets: ‘Plus, it fires the whole bullet. That’s sixty five percent more bullet, per bullet!’. Even if the mad Bureaucrat had stolen it from my brain, it was forgivable because it was funny. He did not hesitate to boast time and time again about the difficulty of transforming magical energy into solid magic while still instilling it with useful attributes.
The rounds fired from the magic Magnum traveled at brain jolting speeds, roughly above seven hundred meters per second, according to the blasé estimations of my Gamemaster. By my own calculations with velocity and mass (on the flipside to my aversion to it, the formula was simple math by itself) to determine kinetic energy, I figured that these bullets rammed into their targets with a force somewhere in the range of several thousand joules, compounded with the relevant mass of the bullet casing being ejected as well meant that I would wake up with a weapon of terrible individual destructive power. Yeah, it was probably best that I only use this weapon if fired upon first, and only as a last resort. To further support this decision, the gun was reasonably loud (not a weapon for being stealthy) and only allowed me to take out six targets at a time before a reload of roughly two seconds with magic (six to eight seconds without my telekinetically deft handiness. Discord apologized and stated that Speedloaders weren’t included in the package) became necessary. Because I was already technically asleep, I could not become exhausted from the strenuous physical and mental activity that same way that I could while awake, so there were no breaks for me lasting for a duration over fifteen minutes.
The third button setting for the ammunition type that was spat from my revolver was a wild card that was to be used timely and used wisely. Discord had defined its function as ‘Bending the rules of bullet dynamics, which includes its trajectory and effect upon impact’. As a situation around me got more disorderly, the more interesting the effect the setting would have on the bullets. We tested that exhaustively, and if I had written a list of the unique properties that button had on the ammunition, it would have made for an impressive treatise. I was able to curve the flight path of the bullet like in that Wanted movie to strike at targets behind cover, the bullets would become explosive or incendiary tipped if fired at an unstable fuel source, they would even split in two if pursuing divergent targets down a fork, and many, many other admittedly awesome effects.
On the fourth day into my gunnery training (this Magnum had the oomph behind it to be classified as heavy weaponry in my book), Discord decided to relate little stories and anecdotes about himself as a starting out as an avatar of disorder. At first I mostly ignored him and his outrageous tales of hijinks gone perfectly awry, as more often than not they devolved into the nonsensical ramblings of an incoherent mind. But on the fifth day I joined in by launching my own inquiry about the man’s origins, the most pressing detail was what he was before he modeled himself an Avatar of Chaos.
“You want to know about that in spite of my warnings?” He stuck his tongue out in distaste, “But it’s so boring!”
I finished reloading the cylinder and snapped it shut with the flick of my wrist, “Fascinate me with it anyway. You’ve yammered on about the time you replaced the all the Nobles’ toilet wipes with bleached sandpaper five times now!” I complained as I gunned down an opponent attempting to sneak up on me in a forested simulation. I had to dodge and roll as a stream of gunfire tore through the underbrush and into the spot I had been not three seconds past.
“Oh you are persistent on that, aren’t you? Very well” He complied, the bullets passing through his intangible astral projection, “But don’t blame me if it bores you to sleep and you end up in limbo!”
A storybook poofed into his possession and he cleared his throat as he read from it, “Once… on an island in the middle of a water mass that no one cared to properly name, there lived…” He paused for max suspense, “…an ordinary run of the mill islander”
“LE GASP!” I held a hand against my mouth, “Actually that’s not surprising at all” I defaulted to my habitual deadpan expression as I wheeled around a tree to plant the barrel of my revolver opposite to an opponent’s head and pulled the trigger. For some reason Discord had included gore in the parameters, so I was showered with fragments of skull and brain matter.
‘How beneficial it is that I’m desensitized’ I mused as I wiped the bloodstains off my face with a sleeve.
“I know, I know” He pushed his hand at me twice, “But bear with me for a moment. So this young man was the textbook definition of normal, woke up at the crack of dawn to go fishing for five hours with his father, brought home food to his mother if either of them were lucky enough to catch it, and spent the rest of the day napping beneath the shade of the palm trees to the sound of the ocean and chirruping seagulls until it was time to return home to his hut. This was considered a daily routine for the man, until one day the cycle was broken. One day the man had slept in a bit too late and the tides had washed up the most peculiar rock as his eyes blinked wide” Discord’s eyes got a funny look to them, “It was like no other rock the simple man had ever seen in his life. It was jet black and glassy, and faceted… so unbelievably faceted. And when he crawled closer to take a gander of it, it felt like it was thrumming with energy. The strange sensation increased tenfold in intensity when the ignorant foolish man dismissed that nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that this rock was trouble”
“And what happened?” I asked him expectantly, keeping an eye fixed on the tree line for enemies as I reloaded my weapon one shell case at a time.
The man’s lips split into an odd, eerie grin, “I changed” Was all he said, and its effect was haunting enough that I gave him my full attention. There were no enemies close to us by my reckoning, so it wasn’t a rookie mistake.
The snaggletoothed man resumed his story, “The man whose mind went into that crystal didn’t come out… Instead, I emerged. The man’s unspeakable trials and tribulations within the prison that was the crystal at an end, and his spirit renewed in the cleansing fires of chaos, he set off into the world to spread his newfound joy for randomly entropic change!” His grin soured and a scowl was momentarily present, “But first he weighted the cursed crystal down with a legitimate stone and some coils of hemp rope before he dropped it into the deepest portion of the sea that his people had knowledge of”
‘The crystal he talked about… it couldn’t be… could it?’ I reflected with haste, “Where did you say you were from again?”
“Save all questions until the end of the story” He chided me, before thrusting a finger skywards, “But first, a message from our sponsors! This message is brought to you by Chaolium, the Chaos pill to make your life more spontaneous! Do you wish that your drab life was one hundred percent interesting instead of two hundred percent boring? Try Chaolium today! Warning, do not ingest more than the recommended amount listed on the bottle. Side effects include nausea, vomiting, ejection of bodily contents, blood loss, explosive diarrhea, spontaneous combustion, and becoming one with the miserable universe” He spoke at snowballing speed as he scrolled down the list of unfortunate side effects.
“Stop advertising. Lord above, you’re worse than old cable television” I mumbled bitterly.
He disregarded me, “Where were we? Ah yes! The wondrous outset of the world’s first Avatar of Chaos! I had so much fun in those years, traveling to foreign and exotic places, taking hilarious photos with the locals to save in the scrapbook, and maybe replacing some of their soap bars with sea urchins; trimmed of their spines of course!” He added as I winced at the concept of using a sea urchin as a loofah.
He sighed nostalgically, “I made many impressions on people as I traveled the world, though some of them were clingy enough to commemorate my passing by establishing cult followings that didn’t even have any me themed merchandize!” He sounded outraged, his priorities coming off to me as exceedingly self centered. But then, when you’re the only one of your mindset that you know of, how can you not focus on yourself?
“This was my modus operandi for a few centuries, by then I was an established figure in several countries’ lore… as a trickster!” He snorted, “My diverse array of talents goes far beyond simple skullduggery, don’t you think? But alas, my life of self amusement only got really interesting after detecting multiple surges of chaos that did not belong to moi, so naturally I had to investigate this anomaly for myself” He rubbed his hands together gleefully, “What I found there was positively delightful! Two ascended beings with magic that was essentially the opposite of mine! They looked like they would be fun to mess around with, but baby Trifects would make for poor sport, and I am nothing if not a sporting fellow. So I waited, and surreptitiously watched from the shadows as little Lulu and Celestia matured with their magic while under the mentorship of that fogey Starswirl”
I took umbrage to that description, “Hey, don’t diss the wizard like that!”
The bastard ignored me, “So between spying on the adolescent Trifects and juking nettlesome Windgoes, I was having a blast. The weather was a tad on the chilly side,” He made a mock of shivering, “but it all paid off once they had crossed the Sea to this land that they had named Arcania once they had established themselves as the official Diarchs and unifiers of the clans. They acted modestly about it, but I knew they were puffed up as peacocks about their achievement, so I thought to do one better” His eyes glinted, “That was when I made my grand introduction”
He was rather pleased with himself, “You know… for the illustrious, fated rulers of the three clans, those two were awfully quick to fly the coop when the skies turned pink, the Valkyrians couldn’t get the cotton candy clouds under control, the Agrarian’s crops grew fruit and offshoots that were combinations of seeds that weren’t even planted, and the spells the Stellar Mages cast to fix everything would give them a faint shock, courtesy of me. Perhaps they comprehended the magnitude of my magnificence and withdrew? Either way, they left their castle attendants clueless and their thrones nice and warm for my posterior to enjoy”
‘Maybe they had forewarning about him from Starswirl’ I mused. I didn’t skimp on hints, and they did have the indirect guidance of the Constellar Congress.
He exhaled wistfully, “Ruling a country is challenging work when half of your subjects want insipid order and the other half want you dead. The only issue they had with achieving either objective was that they disagreed over methods, otherwise they might have been able to band together and combine their collective Harmony into a super charged spell that would turn me into a glorified paperweight”
He dug at his fingernails for dirt, which was just a pointless gesture here, “Regardless, it was a gratifying rulership, for me anyways” He flashed me six fingers (on the same hand), “Six months… your infallible Princesses let me have free reign for six months. I could have done any variety of things in that time to the populace, but I stayed consistently inconsistent. The people whined about their lifestyles taking a hit, but what do they know about appreciating spontaneity?”
He sneered, “If I had the time to micromanage the chaos, I might have been able to get them to see that the order they desired in their lives was overrated, but the Princesses had help from above and the second they showed up again as I was about to make a glorious announcement to the public, I tasted the petrifying rainbow. They kept me squared away as a sculpture in their garden. Say whatever you will about me, but at least I don’t turn people into stone”
‘His story is painting himself sympathetically. I hate it’ I mentally grumbled, nailing the last of the gunmen in the forest as he crept in between the bushes to my rear.
He read my expression easily, “I told you it would be boring. Even the story about how dangerous it is to introduce the latest source of income you appropriated would have been more exciting! Stifling inflation has always been a pet peeve of mine” He ground his teeth together, and I knew it to be true. I also knew that he was subtly reprimanding me for being behind the additional paperwork on his desk, not that I cared about his meager troubles.
“Better to have and not need, than need and not have” I riposted. The acquired wealth from the now safe mines made the Crown’s clandestine projects easier to fund without borrowing from the treasury. I wasn’t surprised that incorporating this money fell under Discord’s jurisdiction.
He shrugged frivolously, “Now let me regale you with one I haven’t recounted yet…”
My mood sank like the Titanic, the remainder of my dreamtime about to be monopolized by the devious villain that I rechristened as Chattercord.
⁂
I woke up with a large yawn and a headache that was a quarter of the potency it was when I had suffered my first hangover thanks to Berry Punch’s black goo of alcoholic regret. Discord had vanished without so much as a farewell (though we still weren’t exactly friends by any means) or a note wishing me luck out there in the arid southwest. Not that I had need of any luck. That week of dreamtime spent training with my Magnum had me decently prepared for a firefight, so I had no cause to worry about not being ready for when the going down south got rough. I was not a gunslinger yet by any means, but I had a hunch that I would be lethal with my nameless Magnum (nothing that materialized on the drawing room board had the right ring to it. I would decide on one when it was most convenient) soon enough.
I sensed a weight on my chest and brushed at it with a hand, feeling leather (fake leather if it was conjured) and a dual lineup of bullets enclosed by leather loops. This led me to believe that it was the holster that the Bureaucrat threw in for me on the house and saving me the trouble of dictating to a leatherworker that I needed them to craft something for me to carry my hand cannon with. The belt was an ever fashionable black, undetailed coloration and had a lower strap to keep it affixed to my thigh to attenuate the stresses of stop and go motion. I tried it on and adjusted it so that the holster was angled towards my hand and hung partially on the low end. It felt intriguingly real for conjured leather as I unstrapped it, content with my significant adaptation for ranged combat. Tallying the number of bullets on the belt along with the rounds that were chambered in the cylinder, I accounted for forty two rounds of ammunition. Discord instructed me early during my ‘dream week’ that if I required a refill, I would have to pull the trigger to the emptied weapon before I went to bed for a repeat of what happened last night… which I was not looking forward to, so I had to make what ammo I did have on me count.
I sat up from the bed and stretched to mitigate the crick in my back from sleeping on it funny. The metaphorical magical fuel in the tank was a bit drained, but the levels I had were serviceable. It would replenish faster if I got a hearty breakfast in me, and some additional rest on the train ride back to Magiville where we would have a thirty minute layover to take advantage of until the next stage in our journey to Dodge Junction.
There was a knock on my door that interrupted my meditation, “Zenith? Are ya in there? It’s thirty minutes past seven!” Came Applejack’s distinctive country girl accent.
I hastily grabbed my pack and stuffed the revolver and accompanying holster into it before leaping to my feet. Calming myself before I reached for the handle, I unlocked the door and greeted the blonde woman. The apple grower was dressed in dark blue jeans, leather boots with apple theme embroidery, and an orange-brown long sleeved, checkered shirt that wasn’t folded back like it usually was, on account of the cold I would assume. She was also donning her trademark hat, but that went without saying.
“Mornin’ Zenith” She chirped cordially, a small smile on her face, “Ya sleep well?”
I chuckled, “I did. Too well, in fact. I had one of those prolonged dreams that felt like a week had passed. It would have made for a nice dream too, if Discord wasn’t present to be a nuisance” A helpful nuisance, but a nuisance never the less.
She twisted her neck in bemusement, “Can’t say I know whatcha mean by that. I’m real sorry ya had to deal with Discord prancing about in yer head though, heaven knows mah sleep would be fitful” She gesticulated with her thumb behind herself, “You ready to get goin? The favor from the Princess that I agreed to stipulated that you’d be the one to spill the beans on what we’re doin taking the next train to Dodge Junction after we stop in by home” She looked to one side, “Not that ah’m complainin’, but I got some bad memories of runnin’ to that place in a moment of weakness that I ain’t proud of”
“You might not be alone in harboring that sentiment. We’re to visit an old acquaintance of yours who is renting out a room to some other persons who decided that running was a better option than facing the music” I hinted at the particulars of my mission, “I’ll tell you more once we’re underway and in a secure spot. Are you packed?”
She nodded, “I don’ carry ‘round much, and mah things are at the station right now bein’ loaded by the attendants. Let’s not keep ‘em waitin’, huh?”
I inserted my arms between the loops of the adventure pack as I slung it onto my back, “Ladies first” I motioned for her to lead.
The train (a regular non crystalline one this go around) was at the station, steam venting from its boiler as it sat idly on the tracks. Because the Krystal Kingdom’s railway line was rarely used (save for shipments of explosives and food to the sparsely populated mining settlements near the icy mountains) before its reappearance (its handy location a foresight on the Princess’s part mayhaps?), it had to take the long route around the bend from Steelhatten so that it would be oriented south. Cadence had mentioned a proposal the day before involving the construction of a parallel line to complement the existing one and facilitate two way traffic, but it would likely be months before a project of that undertaking could reach finalization even if they initiated it today.
We stood in line behind the ticket counter to purchase our passes with the wherewithal in our pockets, dozens of people around us who were preparing for the journey home or were chatting amiably about whatever they considered to be the unforgettable highpoint of their stay. Someone official from the Citadel spotted AJ and I and notified us that we were cleared to board the first class passenger car by the front of the train (the Engine reminded me heavily of an R Class steam locomotive, crowned with Red metal trimming) without further ado. The cowgirl’s forehead scrunched up in confusion at the fancy treatment, but if she had any misgivings about it, she kept quiet on them as we climbed the grated steps and entered the car where we’d be spending the next few hours in transit.
Speaking of which, the distance between Magiville and the Krystal Kingdom was about two hundred and eighty five kilometers as the Skyborn flies (its proximity to the capital was all but adjacent in comparison to the distances of the major cities in Arcania running lengthwise West to East), so it would be a couple hours after noon when we pulled into the Magiville train station after being redirected via a one of a kind locomotive complex situated at the base of Concordia mountain with the biggest clockwork style turntable you ever did see, integrated with brass and bronze gears the size of monster truck tires, jets of scalding steam, and a jerky lifting platform like that of a carjack. The first class accommodations that the Princess treated us to were luxurious, with silken curtains over the windows, electric ceiling lamps that gave off pleasant lighting, chairs with plush upholstery, and artwork on the ceiling that was reminiscent of renaissance paintings.
Applejack whistled what she thought of the passenger car, “It’s slightly glitzy for mah tastes, but who am I to argue with the Princess’s commands?”
“She didn’t send you and I out on a simple shopping errand, Applejack. This extravagance is a subtle reminder that we’re to be professional, and therefore we must behave professionally” I saw fit to inform her as I plopped down rather unprofessionally onto a seat, keeping my bag of implements nearby, “Take a seat” I compelled her, to which she complied, “You want the full details to our mission yes?”
She shuffled in her seat as she resisted getting suctioned into its depths, “The truth about what we’re goin’ to be doin’ together would be mightily appreciated, yes”
I double and triple checked our surroundings to ensure that no one was listening in on us, “Your cousin has gone off the grid. We’re going to pay him a visit in Dodge Junction, along with somebody else of importance that he… associates with” I termed it tactfully.
“Uhh… alrighty then” She scratched her head, “Which cousin would that be? Ah’ve got quite a few of ‘em, Zenith”
I leaned forward, “Maybe this will narrow it down for you. He resided in a town whose name he’s quite fond of drawing out the pronunciation of” It was presumptuous of me to think it was the same here, but she did nothing to refute it.
His identity clicked in her head by that trivial feature alone, “Braeburn? But why are we goin’ after him? What’s he done wrong?”
“He’s followed his heart” I answered her, “Which isn’t necessarily a crime, but who he’s chosen to do it with is more of a gray zone” And a political hot button that’s dangerously close to being punched.
“Who is she?” Applejack demanded to know, slamming her fist onto the laminated wooden table separating us, “Who’s seduced mah cousin into a life of crime?”
“You’re going to have to take a step back here and breathe before I divulge that one to you” I warned her, “We haven’t even set out yet and you’re losing your temper over a girl your cousin happens to care for?”
“Right… A’hm sorry for gettin’ steamed” She didn’t sound completely apologetic, “But the apple isn’t suppose to fall from the tree only to roll into some ditch to rot. My family keeps in touch over everythin’. Don’t matter none if it’s somethin’ private like who’s captured the affection of our hearts. If a man or woman is unworthy of being considered one of the Apple Family, then they don’t enter the family. It’s as plain as that”
“Seems a bit… over controlling to me” I remarked, reevaluating my appraisal of the Apple family.
“Nonsense!” She exclaimed, “We’re jus’ lookin’ out for the best interests of the family. That’s the way it’s been since mah ancestor Tough Cookie popped out eight squallin’ babes and settled down with her hubby to begin growin’ only the most delectable apples in the world!”
‘I knew she and AJ were directly blood related!’ I thought with an invisible fist pump. Though the plumpness in Tough Cookie was not evident in the buxom blonde, who was mostly tanned flesh and muscle from years of fieldwork.
“A historical ancestor? Tell me about her” She was unfortunately unconscious for most of the time that I had with her, so Applejack likely knew more about her than I did. The story I told the Elements at the dining table that one night was sufficient, but bare bones when it came to specific identities of the people I interacted with.
We felt a jerking sensation of the car as the train engine whistled and signaled its departure from the station. I was puzzled that we were given the first class train car entirely to ourselves, but it was an early train and more were scheduled to ferry the passengers back home after the Athletic Game’s conclusion.
“Gladly” Applejack acquiesced with zest, “Mah ultra great grandmother Tough Cookie Apple was the first matriarch of the Apple Family after they had started anew in Arcania under the Princesses. Before that, the Apple Family was subject to the whims of their Stellar Mage overlords, and the Combine government that they worked for before which was even worse, with both of ‘em taking most of the profits they made from sellin’ their produce and leavin’ ‘em on the rack to hang while they were mistreated by people who should have been livin’ alongside ‘em in Harmony. But that’s jus’ the way things were then”
She exhaled tiredly, “Times were tough for mah family over a thousand years ago, and I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for a mystery savior that had saved her from succumbin’ to a dastardly poison that she was afflicted with fighting in the name of truth n’ justice”
“Is that so?” I murmured thoughtfully. Did Tough Cookie forget about my name? The Hartsbane poison that was burning in her veins could have had any sort of unfortunate side effects, including short term memory loss.
Applejack heard me, “Eeyup! The feller even left a missive for her that she saved for posterity. Mah Granny has it preserved and laminated somewhere in the farmhouse attic away from the sunlight. A lot of the words were beginnin’ to fade even before its legibility was protected by pricey enchantments, but I’ve read it enough times to have committed it to memory”
She cleared her throat and spoke in her ‘refined’ voice, “Dear Tough Cookie. I hope this letter finds you well rested and well recovered. We hadn’t known each other for very long, but I shan’t be forgetting you anytime soon. I just wanted to tell you that you have one heck of a future ahead of you, filled with life, love, and happiness. The road getting there will be bumpy and full of potholes, and times may get desperate… but there’s a light at the end of this tunnel that will take away all of your woes, your regrets, your hardships, and make them seem immaterial in comparison to what you have gained. Your sister will have a hand in bringing this about, and you need to be supporting her the way you have been alongside that wizard friend of yours. Speaking of whom, he and I have gone out to seek two very special somebodies that will be pivotal to the events to come. Don’t question how I know this… it’s a simple answer with complex implications. I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts though, and I pray that your life is as fulfilling as possible… signed, The Hooded Man… AKA that handsome feller who had never ridden a horse in his life”
She scoffed with amusement, “This man saved mah ancestor’s life, according to the healer who had filled in the blanks for her after she awoke. The ancient Valkyrians had made a foray into town and the folks there had somehow beaten them off, but they knew that they would feel the retribution for their actions before long, so most people packed their belongings into carts and moved to other towns. Mah ancestor followed their example and returned home after recovering from the slight amnesia she had been afflicted with. She and thousands of others migrated over the sea to this land that they would christen Arcania after settling their differences with the other clans and burying the hatchet”
‘Interesting how that’s an expression here’ It likely had differing origins though.
“Sounds like her savior was quite the man” I said impassively, knowing full well the truth behind that.
Applejack examined me closely from her seat across the table, “You can’t pull the wool over mah eyes, Zenith. After that story you spun after dinner the other night, I have an inkling as to who this hooded fella really was” Her eyes narrowed at me, but I gave her nothing.
I was unfazed, “Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t… but you’ll never hear an admission from my lips” I told her contrarily.
She huffed and crossed her arms together, “Why do you constantly hafta be a wise guy? It’s really irritatin’ sometimes”
I shrugged flippantly, “A man must have some enigmatic aspects to him, if only for abstruseness’ sake” That and I derived amusement from frustrating others who attempted to glean too much from me.
“Fine!” She hissed, “Keep up that pointless charade of yers. But explain to me mah role in all this hullabaloo”
“It’s quite simple my dear Applejack” I started, to which she snorted, “You and Braeburn are of the same bloodline, so he’s more liable to listen to suggestions coming from you than some recently appointed Royal Agent that he’s never heard about till now. In turn, he will make returning the woman he ran with to her home, and hopefully prevent a conflict from igniting between the settlers and Buffalo Braves”
“Buffalo Braves? Then who i-…” She paused before piecing together who the lady in question was, “…Strongheart” She seethed as she stamped her fist into the table, rattling the silverware that wasn’t wrapped in those nice napkins, “I knew they had eyes for each other! The way he kept going on about her and her people at the last family reunion, you’d think that there was somethin’ goin’ on between ‘em, but I passed it off as admiration!” She sighed, “Brae always had an open mind about things… but to pledge his heart to a woman who’s not even Arcanian? Unthinkable!”
Oh no, there was that semi racist side of AJ that I had no desire to see, “What does her nationality have to do with it? The Buffalo Braves have been living here long enough that they’re Arcanian citizens in all but name, based on what Celestia implied to me over brunch”
Applejack diverged from the topic at hand, “You and the Princess, Zenith… is there more goin’ on between you than I originally guessed?”
“Yes, our relationship has evolved” Though in what manner was not yet definitive, “But it’s not my relationship to the Princess that is relevant at the moment. It’s your cousin’s to this Buffalo Chieftain’s daughter”
She looked at me crossly, “What are ya lookin’ at me for? No one told me about this before you, least of all Braeburn” She mumbled bitterly. This was a huge deal to her, wasn’t it?
“If I hope to get these two factions from tearing each other’s throats out, I need them to parley first. Retrieving Strongheart, reminding her not unkindly of what’s what, and returning her to her people will be crucial to this effort” The people of Appleloosa were settlers, apple farmers, frontiersmen with few lawmen or guards to keep them safe from a sizable threat. They were not hunter-warriors and gatherers like I’d assume the natives (more native than the Arcanian natives anyway) were. If the Buffalo Braves decided to take up arms against the settlers for the perceived attacks and kidnappings of their people, it could get real bloody real fast. I had to prevent this from occurring at all costs.
“How do ya know for certain she’ll be a big help when it comes to keepin’ the peace?” AJ reasonably voiced her doubts.
I shook my head, “I don’t know anything of this for certain, but it stands to reason that the Chieftain’s daughter who was against the Buffalo Braves clashing with the Appleloosans over an apple grove on their doorstep would prove a useful ally when a similar scenario has developed like the one embroiling them now”
“I guess…” She accepted tentatively, “Why’d she run away with mah cousin anyway?”
“Celestia didn’t get too specific with the details, but Strongheart was pressured into marrying an influential member of her tribe who is championing the idea of attacking the Arcanians in the region in retribution for their losses. Strongheart does not think highly of him, enough that she’d book it with your cousin to avoid that fate” I informed the cowgirl.
And if the war hawk still retained that unwise idea of violence in his head when Strongheart was restored to the Braves and united by holy matrimony to him, then I would have to get my hands dirty again… and incidentally Strongheart would be free to marry whomever she pleases. I should be bothered that I’m contemplating murder so apathetically, but I’ve accepted that I must do what I have to if I am to safeguard the realm and those I care for. I could only hope that Strongheart could get this man to see reason. She’d be miserable, but there was little and less I could do for her that didn’t tread into a political no-no zone.
“What losses?” Applejack was out of the loop, “Why are the Buffalomen and the settlers down south coming to blows again?”
“No blows have been exchanged as far as I know, which is why we must work quickly. Tensions will be nearly impossible to relieve if they explode before our intervention” I did not have the heart to tell her that Celestia would send an armed response to ‘deal’ with a disturbance within her borders… and that the Buffalo Braves would likely either be forced to find a new home or would be killed. I couldn’t afford to fail here, for their sake and the sake of peace.
“There is more” I continued, “There’s a good reason for the Buffalo Braves to foster anger towards the settlers. They believe that their people, specifically women and children, are being stolen by men wielding terrible weapons that crack like thunder” Though none so terrible as the weapon now sitting patiently in my pack.
“Are they?” Applejack could not believe the words coming out of her mouth, “A’course they aren’t! The Appleloosans ain’t kidnappers! Jus’ honest, hardworkin’ folk!”
“These men, outlaws really, appear to be Arcanian. Which means that they might be using frontier towns such as Appleloosa to supply themselves before they stage raids on the Bufflo Brave villages” Though how and why they are doing this remains unclear.
Applejack got a determined, steely glint in her eye, “We need to stop ‘em. I won’t abide by these men tarnishin’ the good name of those settler folk, I won’t”
“Glad to see that you’re on board with me” I quipped, before watching the white, snowy scenery pass us by and the tip of the Crystal Citadel sink beneath the horizon, “Dealing with these outlaws will be a serious proposition, AJ. They have already shown that they are willing to kill in order to achieve whatever objective it is that they have. Can I trust you to look after yourself?”
“Don’t talk to me as if I were some helpless newborn calf, Zenith” She rebuked me, insulted that I would even bring it up, “Mah brother and I have dealt with plenty of danger in the past. Wild critters come crawlin’ out of the Neverfree from time to time. Some wander onto our farm and Mac and I teach ‘em the error of their ways” She pounded her fist against her palm in emphasis, “When we stop in at Magiville, I can run home and grab mah Claymore”
“What, like the kind that I used during the games?” And done a poor job with in spite of my training, I neglected to add. I was the most deadly with my Mage-blade, but that was because it was an extension of myself.
She mentally compared them in her head, “Mine’s not as long as yers was, but mine has a thicker blade and cleaves into flesh like warm tallow”
I eyed her critically, measuring what her reply would be, “You ever used it on a man before?”
At that Applejack faltered and recovered sloppily, “I-I could! Ah’m not half bad in a scuffle, and can keep mah head on mah shoulders in all situations. Me and the girls have been in heap of ‘em over the years!”
“Really?” I countered, watching her flinch from that word alone, “You could look a man in the eyes and kill him without hesitation if you had to? You and the girls have done that?” I would be shocked if they had. The Elements weren’t killers as far as I knew.
“W-well I wouldn’t want to have to k-kill anybody!” She protested, “But if I were forced into a choice between protectin’ those I cared about an- and some no good brigand, I would choose the former, every time” She vowed, ridding herself of the vocal tremors.
“Honest answer” I acknowledged without irony, “And a sentiment we share. Sadly, bringing a sword, even a really big sword like a Claymore, into a gunfight would likely end badly for you”
Applejack crooked her head, “Huh? Whatcha talkin’ about?”
“Guns. Firearms. Slug throwers. Lead tossers. Projectile weapons. Boomsticks” I listed casually before recalling the last and most apposite title relevant to this conversation, “And as the Buffalo Braves are calling them: Thunder-Horrors”
“These outlaws are using ranged weapons that outclass melee weapons in most cases” I simplified for her, “The basic premise of a firearm is that a metal projectile is loaded into a tube along with a propellant charge that when ignited will cause that projectile to exit the tube at incredible speeds. All the kinetic energy behind the projectile can result in catastrophic damage to living creatures. To put it bluntly, you point a gun at whatever you want to die, and pull the trigger” I don’t think that the Magnum in my pack is capable of doing much else besides that. I would also have to find out where these men acquired these guns, though I had a nagging suspicion that it involved the only people in the world who could craft them across the Eastern Sea.
Applejack grimaced, “Sounds awful. Why would people make such a thing?”
I gave my answer some thought, “The same reason they made swords like your Claymore… to protect those they care about, or to kill those who stand in their way” ‘Guess which category the outlaws fall under?’ My eyes were imparting to her, and she got the message.
“How are we supposed to stop ‘em?” She questioned, “If the settlers are innocent, as I know they are, then how are we gonna root out these good for nothin’ lowlifes?”
I got up from my seat, “We’ll worry about these issues one step at a time, Applejack. When do the rest of the girls head back home?”
She scratched her head, “Later today on the next train, I reckon. Supposin’ that Rarity found all the fabric she needed to start her new ‘Krystal Fashion’ line”
I bobbed my head once, “Right. I’m going to find a bunk and take a nap. Feel free to wake me when we get to Magiville” I had crossed the distance between where we had sat and where the side doors leading to the beds were before she could utter another word.
I was fully aware that whatever noise she was in the middle of making was about how I had just slept in, but I was suffering from a different kind of weariness. One that affected neither body nor mind. The bunks themselves were spartan in their furnishing, being only a thin mattress that wasn’t quite lengthy enough for a man of my growing stature, a feather pillow, and a blanket… but the basic amenities were sufficient for me to lie back, close my eyes, and drift off to a state of quiescence; with thoughts of my first mission as an Agent of the Crown weighing heavily on me.
⁂
My vision was incoherent and a blur of shapes and hues as I skipped the Conception Canvas and delved straight into what I believed was a regular, pre rendered dream. The scene I was a part of once the fog had lifted was an underground parking structure of some sort. I examined myself to see what kind of attire my dream self was clothed in and frowned when it wasn’t quite what I was expecting, though not disappointing. On my thick, calloused hands were traction grip gloves that I couldn’t help but find distantly familiar, and my body was covered from neck to toe in some kind of sleek black jumpsuit that had crimson trimming (always a nice touch in my book). There was a streamlined pack on my back that instantly felt vital to my presence here as its weight registered in my head. Underneath the jumpsuit was a specialized heavy duty, bullet stopping vest filled with special ballistics gel that mitigated and absorbed the impact of bullets ranging up to five point five six caliber rounds and below. It also cost a good chunk of change that a poor, starving runner (this body had no stores of fat on it whatsoever) like myself could never afford the legal way, not in this kind of repressive society with my ‘socially undesirable’ skills.
What threw me off most though were the shoes on my feet, if I could even call them that. It was closer to some kind of rubberized covering for my feet; so all ten of my toes were individually visible as I flexed them. I personally never cared much for that style of foot padding, but it did give me a better feel for the ground I was treading on as I paced five steps in practice. The ground I was standing on currently was asphalt pavement inside that underground parking structure, if the warm, condensed air and lack of outside ambience was any indication. Behind me was an eighteen wheeler’s uncovered trailer door, the gate pulled all the way up to reveal a jumbled, haphazard assortment of boxes and metal crates, one of which I had apparently smuggled myself inside with. To my front was a locked door with a keypad adjacent to the handle. Next to that were the offloaded crates that were doubtlessly filled with gear and supplies for the men manning the building. I blinked as ‘memories’ blinked in front of my mind’s eye. I was here for a reason, to accomplish an objective of sorts. Anyone who got in my way had to be bypassed or brought down.
I checked my immediate surroundings for any signs of life, but nobody was present. The driver’s cabin of the truck still had the keys in the ignition and the radio would sporadically pick up on incoherent chatter and buzzing, so I was not strictly alone in this building. I probed my ‘memories’ and learned that I had waited until the time was right to surface. The men with the truck were on break for fifteen minutes and their replacements would arrive within five. With this information in mind, I climbed back onto the platform and debated my next course of action.
Just then, the light on the keypad blinked and the door swung open as a short, squat man dressed in a uniform that would not look out of place on a S.W.A.T or Marine member emerged. He looked up and his eyes widened in surprise as my body’s instincts took over. I crossed the small distance between us in the blink of an eye, his hand on the handle of his pistol as he rushed to rip it out of its holster and gun me down. I knocked the weapon from his hand before his finger was on the trigger and a lightning fast jab to his throat had him stumbling back as he swung a blind, feral haymaker at me that was easy to duck underneath and seize his neck in a chokehold. His wild flailing managed to bruise me on the noggin the few times he landed a hit, but I held firm until the lack of air had him unconscious and slumping in my arms.
“Foxbat Four, come in Foxbat Four. Do you read me? Report in” A voice that was altered by the radio static checked in.
Hastily picking up his radio, I answered it in an ambiguously gruff voice that was a mixture of professionalism and repetitive boredom, “Mobile One, this is Foxbat Four” My contact had kept me apprised of their primary call signs in case I ran into a situation like this.
“Code in Foxbat Four” Came the other person’s response, a cautious edge underlying its tone.
‘Crap… what do I say, what do I say!?’ I thought with slight worry, before a slip of white paper jutting out of the unconscious man’s left breast pocket caught my eye.
I grasped at it and pulled it out, my eyes rapidly scanning its contents. I had to resist the urge to heel click right there. The man had a code in cheat sheet right on him! Guy must have been a newbie or just plain incompetent at memorizing his parlance like he should have. It would certainly explain why none of his coworkers were around to hear the racket from his subduing.
“Foxbat Four codes in Everest Zulu Niner” I relayed professionally, not believing my luck. A tiny part of me griped that I wouldn’t be able to test out my blockade running skills, but I shushed it.
“Code in confirmed” The voice on the other end droned, “State the nature of your radio absence Foxbat Four” She, I determined from the subtle inflections, requested impatiently.
I scratched at my head out of habit, “Sorry for the delay Mobile One, I thought I heard a disturbance…” I paused as if rechecking my findings, “Turns out it was just a rodent”
The woman on the other end sighed, “And we just had this place sprayed. Furry little bastards must be more resilient than the pest controller gave them credit for. All right Foxbat Four, finish the remainder of your perimeter patrol and clock out. And Gary…” The woman broke operational professionalism for a moment, “…stop leaving the toilet seat up at my place. You’re not some caveman out pissing in the woods. Keep my bathroom floor tiles dry” She was overtly incensed by this man’s atrocious bathroom habits.
“Sorry luv, force of habit” I automatically replied with a choked snicker, “Anything I could do to make it up to you?”
“I’m dating a man-child, I swear” The woman groaned near inaudibly, “Just remember to take me to that sashimi place off Fifth and Decker street like you promised this weekend. Can you do that?”
‘I’m frakking mad for the taste of sashimi. She is my kind of woman! Too bad she’s working for the Feds… and is dating this pudgy lump of fat’ I mused, nudging his plump body with a foot. I shook my head. Such a cryin’ shame.
“I will be an absolute gentleman, just for you. Foxbat Four out” I promised for the stirring man who I had to kick to put him back under, turning off the radio and slipping it back into his vest before dragging and restraining him with his own handcuffs in a poorly lit corner where his colleagues could not happen upon him without actively searching.
Swiping a pen off his person (‘Knocking him out was pretty easy, but at least he comes well equipped’), I wrote down on the back of his cheat sheet in bold lettering strongly reminding him of the Japanese dining date he had planned with his woman. Part of me was confused that I was playing Cupid’s advocate when I had a mission that permitted few distractions, but the other half was too busy laughing its ass off to argue with my seemingly odd actions.
Using his keycard, I swiped it on the pad’s card scanning crevice and was elated when the light flashed green and the door unlocked for me. Closing the aperture behind me, a lengthy maintenance hallway of sorts greeted me, with recycled air that was crisp and cool in contrast to the warm stuffy air in the parking structure. And yet it had a stale vibe to it because of how sterile it was, like inside of a hospital almost (‘Not that I’ve been there often, what with the Feds monitoring every patient like they were automatically guilty of mischief and all’). The bricks were white and the metal water pipes were an assortment of yellows, blues, and the occasional red pipe that was just screaming at me to climb it for some perplexing, almost primal reason. There was a practical incentive for this attraction though. The red pipes led up to some rigging that was mostly wires and scaffolds, with a vent grill that was also red. Therefore I was compelled to climb up those pipes and use the scaffold to gain entrance to the ventilation system that would lead to where I needed to go. I rubbed a hand on my chin as I devoted a minute to contemplation.
There was stubble on my chin brushing against the gloves, like the body in this dream was in the process of cultivating a beard, which I thought was dumb. A pinch in my chest answered that thought, and I scowled and shook my head. It might just be a dream, but I might as well enjoy myself while I was here. Nothing was happening at the nonce, so I had time to do an inventory once over. There was the messenger bag on my back that was weighed down with a feather light cargo. I swung it off my shoulders and unzipped it to peer into its contents. Inside the bag was an organized set of items including a mechanical mouse, some multipurpose tools, a few magazines of heavy duty pistol ammunition that I proceeded to insert into straps on my thighs, a chunky block of plastic explosives, and a large, rectangular carbon fiber casing that had metallic strips on the surface that crisscrossed each other on the pristine body and a port to plug a cord into. There was confusion for a moment before it clicked that this unassuming item was essential to the dream’s overall objective. With that remembrance came a rush of memories that finally specified what my main objective was and what I had to do.
Apparently I was here to infiltrate the edifice where the Fed’s kept the mother of all servers clusters, with which they stored the data that they collected from years of invasive surveillance of the populace, as well as continued to monitor them in their workplaces, houses of worship, and even their own homes! With this information, the government could blackmail or indict anyone they wanted, though politicians under their sway never were, while reformists were either assassinated or thrown in the slammer on some bullshit charge or another. The clear breaches of trust and privacy involved here were enough to make me grind my teeth just thinking about it. I was sent on a nigh suicidal mission to download what I could from the servers as additional evidence to put the final nails in the coffin of the Feds, ensuring that a successful regime change would ensue in the chaos. Being the dashing ladykiller I am, I accepted without any reluctance, though for additional reasons that I quietly kept to myself.
If there was a revolt in this country, it would likely become bloody havoc. People would take to the streets in haphazard groups that were loosely united thanks to the Federal stranglehold on most communication lines. Hopefully, the new regime installed would resemble the free democracy that this country once held dear many decades ago, even if they abused its liberties and took them for granted. It’s amazing how sobering it is when simple things like the right to privacy are taken away from you. It’s even more sobering when the authorities show up at your door to cuff you simply because they deemed your activities to be ‘a clear and present danger to the public’ or so they excused themselves. The infiltration scenario hazily reminded me of a dream that I shared with Luna not so long ago where we had to infiltrate a casino owned by well armed thugs who sucked at the poker table. The memory of how much fun Princess Luna and I had during the car chase on the highway brought a reminiscent grin to my face.
The time for reminiscing passed, and something in my gut urged me to get a move on before I was discovered. The Feds had relocated their main server cluster to an unassuming, ostensibly emptied high rise in the commercially vibrant Golden Condor District. It was by the waters of a river that was so clean (one of the few upsides to the strict Federal laws) that you could take a cup and drink from it directly without fear of spending the next week worshiping at the temple of the porcelain god. Regardless of its innocent outside impression, their big and bad (not to mention slow and clumsy as hell when it came to the chase) security personnel were not a rare sight on the premises. I was only able to sneak past their security scanners by hiding in a crate lined with material that obfuscated their systems. Still, the personnel that were here were armed to the teeth, and they did not mess around when it came to intruders. If I got caught out in the open and was spotted, chances were that I would make a stunning impression of a piece of bloody Swiss cheese within seconds. I planned on living for some time yet, so that wasn’t going to happen.
I kept my handy dandy Five seveN close in its holster on my hip, the weapon’s practicable weight was an unfaltering reassurance in a cold, cruel world of gun toting government lackeys that would unleash hot lead into a gaggle of elementary school students if they were merely ordered to. They were just machines with human skin in my eyes, blindly relinquishing their free will to a government that wanted to suppress the most basic of human rights in the name of communal safety (As if that justified their hidden atrocities of breaking up ‘marked’ families. Their hypocrisy made my blood boil). I did not hesitate to kill those bastards when they got in my way, nor was I prevented from feeling a grim satisfaction from the act afterwards. My fellow runners (the ones that were still loyal to the cause anyhow after that schism some time ago) worried about my vindictiveness being my undoing someday. I’ve managed to consistently prove them wrong by keeping a tight lid on those emotions when circumstances got too hot. I always fled from a fight when I knew that it was unwinnable. There was no point in martyring myself when I could still make a difference. I may be a violent bastard when push comes to shove, but I am smart enough to know when it was time to run and time to fight.
A faint beeping noise emanated from the large screen of the multiuse watch on my wrist (more of a wrist mounted GPS from its size really), and when I gave it a glance I saw a trio of dots that pulsed with every heartbeat. In fact, that’s what they were… heartbeats. I vocalized a “Huh, neat” in that same voice didn’t sound truly like my ordinary self and made me question why my dream self deviated from the norm. The gut feeling became a pinch and my legs began to stride forward of their own accord, propelling me towards the red piping leading upward. I gripped at it and clambered up like a monkey until I reached the scaffolding, grunting as I shoved aside some wires bundles to make room for myself. The scaffolding was sturdy enough to handle my weight, but small to the point where I had to belly crawl my way to the vent cover.
For such a site of high importance to the Feds, they were awfully lazy with their vent coverings. This one was affixed to the wall with regular screw bolts for cripe’s sake! I dug into my bag and produced a multi-tool with a screwdriver attachment on it and cycled through the settings before it flicked out like the beer opener on a Swiss Army knife. I unscrewed the bolts and silently removed the grated lit to set aside as a patrol of guards with the falsely peace loving emblem of an olive tree with wings and some pretentious Latin inscription on their breast passed below, their radios echoing in the hall with their crackling chatter. I slipped into the vent like a modern day ninja before any of them could randomly look upwards.
While gaining entry to the ventilation system in this building was without laborious effort on my part, maneuvering the maze it entailed once infiltrated was a wholly different matter. On top of that, the schematics for this place (which were surprisingly difficult to obtain) stated that there was a motion detecting system installed every few meters that scanned for crawlers with counterproductive intentions like myself. Thankfully, I had another nifty tool in my bag of tricks to deal with that obstacle. That mechanical mouse wasn’t just for playing hunter and prey with your pet cat, but a means for fooling system’s like these before it got close enough to unleash a burst of scrambling data that pinged the sensor’s information processers and ran a loop of the last five minutes before the mouse came scurrying up to work its magic. It was amusing to note that it squeaked like an actual mouse every time it unleashed its ping, which made me admire the designers’ apt sense of humor. This building would have a rodent issue indeed.
I expended thirty damn minutes in those vents, stopping every few meters and cueing up the controls for the M. O. U. S. E (Micronized obfuscating universal stultifying emitter) device for it to squeak and permit me undetected passage. Every next few meters, the horizontal air ducts went vertical, and I had to press my back to one side of the vent while using my feet and hands to slowly shift my weight skyward. As much as I abhorred them, the Feds weren’t entirely stupid. Sooner or later, one overly observant crony eyeing the video screen would notice something was off and alert his superiors, who would put security on the alert and flush the ducts with something undesired or seal them completely. The fact that they hadn’t sounded the alarms by now meant that they must not have installed computer monitored meta-inspecting data subroutines in the servers that were my end goal here. This could either be a fortuitous thing, or a very unfortuitous thing depending on what I extracted from those databanks. The ventilation shafts could only take me so far though, as they cut off about midway up the building. There were separate sets of shafts for ventilation in the building so that efficiency was retained and so infiltrators like me could groan in exasperation.
The only other method for reaching the top of the building where the servers were held was to use the elevators, and that required an officer’s clearance that could not be easily obtained, and the scanners in those elevators were biometric. I would need an identical retinal set keyed to a member of the personnel with appropriate access level, the code for the keypad, fingerprints… basically the whole nine yards if I wanted access to the server room. Isolating an officer and taking what I needed the hard way was out of the question. They always had a heavily armed escort and reported in even more frequently than their underlings. I had no time to waste on dilly dally and as soon as gunfire was heard (as it frequently was when I was on the job), the building would be on full lockdown, which would be problematic to my plans. As luck would have it, I came prepared for the picky elevators as well. I’d been waiting too long for this night to come here unrehearsed.
But first I’d have to get to the lifts. The vent shaft I was in terminated above a mostly empty cafeteria, with only a couple off duty Feds cruising the aisle to satisfy their pastry fix. The kitchen staff was absent, perhaps being given the night off or went home early. This was relieving, as I hated getting civvies caught between men like me and the government’s minions. I waited until they left the room bandying words about some trivial topic they disagreed on before I kicked the grill out of its moorings and caught the rim with my toes to prevent it from hitting the floor with a clatter that would undoubtedly attract attention. The vent was thirty feet from the ground, so I had to dance about the wide tops of the hanging ceiling lights before using the last one as a handhold to swing safely on top of a flat cart lined with serving trays, sliding to a halt in front of the chicken strips. Swiping a couple oily pieces and popping them into my hungry maw, I found a spot in the kitchen where I could refer to my wrist map while watching the cafeteria doors and staying out of sight.
I pulled up the map function and studied the page it displayed. There were only two cafeterias in the building the first one was at ground level. Which meant that I climbed about twenty floors to get to where I was now. The closest elevators that could take me all the way to the summit of the edifice were located five floors above me… and there was a barracks interposing itself between me and the elevator call buttons. There was a microscopic chance of me slipping past security unnoticed, so I had to get creative. An idea popped into my mind that was crazy, but just might work. The barracks that was presently an obstacle to me could also prove to be my salvation, as the Feds usually had spare uniforms stowed away in the locker rooms thanks to some kind of dress code mandating an emergency set in case the men on the security staff had to be called in from off the grid for an emergency.
It wasn’t the most refined of plans I’d admit, and I still had to reach the barracks without being spotted, but it was the only option I could think of. The heartbeat sensor would aid me immensely in this endeavor, and I used it as a crutch as I snuck through the hallways and rounded the corners. I had the M.O.U.S.E scurry through the hallways beforehand to loop the security feeds on the individual cameras, so there were no worries on that end. As this had been an office building before the government had appropriated it for their own uses, there were plenty of places like janitorial closets and dusty office cubicles for me to duck inside and wait out a passing patrol as they listlessly scanned for threats. Somewhere in the portion of their brain that wasn’t absolutely chained to unswerving obedience they probably didn’t think a threat could materialize in their midst. Their supposed hubris would leave them with egg on their face before the night was out. After ten minutes of tediously evading or hiding from the patrols, I made it to the barracks. There were a couple heartbeats inside the large room, but their slow rhythm led me to believe that it was just men snoozing or lazing in their bunks.
With a tight grip on my gun and the other on the first guard’s keycard that I had kept, I unlocked the door and carefully made my ingress. Intuition paid off again, as those lone heartbeats were punctuated by the light snores of sleeping guards. Across the spacious room was the door leading to the lockers and showers. I tiptoed past the dozing men while keeping any eye on my heartbeat sensor for any returning patrols. Flashing the keycard a third time, I closed the door to the lockers behind me. I chose a random locker to break into using a rapid code guessing app on my wristwatch and factoring in the greasy fingerprints on four digits of the number pad. The app took less than a minute to do its magic.
Meanwhile my eyes were watching the door in case of stray guards in need of turning in for a wash. If they were, then I’d give them a hosing down of bullets. Gunfire would inevitably set off the alarms, but non-conducive as that was, there was always that part of me that was itching for a fight. I was fortunate that no such event occurred, as the fatigues inside the locker were only a marginally bigger fit on me rather than smaller, which would have cost more time that I did not have the luxury of wasting. I checked the name on a miniscule black and white patch on the blue urban camouflage chest fabric and it read ‘Branton’. As an afterthought, it was an unusual name, but it was disyllabic like mine and of no consequence to me. I donned it, some combat boots, and a fully enclosed helmet from a rack on the locker door to shadow my face from unfriendly eyes.
Even in this disguise, anyone who knew me by this name would strike up a chat or address me the dutiful way, and if I responded wrong, they’d suspect something. The Feds also followed established routines, so men wandering the corridors on their own would be instantly inconspicuous. I exited the locker and proceeding barracks and made for the stairs. Using the radio on my vest, I could also keep an ear fixed on their communications. The thumping in my chest rose in frequency as I heard one patrol reporting a discrepancy with one of the crates in the garage, likely the one I smuggled myself in from the sound of it. Mobile One dismissed their concerns and passed the empty crate off as incompetence on the shipping company’s part. I chortled at that. The shipping company they were using for their hardware shipments was one of the few that supported our resistance movement, though they did so seldomly for fear of being uncovered by the Feds. My employer had a few friends in their ranks however, so I got a free ticket inside the compound.
Jogging up the stairs of the fire escape until I was at the level where the nearest full scale elevators were, I opened the door to the shock of a man on duty there, who soon composed himself and spoke to me.
“What are you going by yourself, officer?” He asked formally.
“I have business on this floor” I said in a sandpapery voice.
“You sound like shit, man” He observed bluntly.
“Yeah. I’ve got a bit of a sore throat” I rasped in pretend.
“If so, then you should be res-…” He read my name patch and smiled, “Branton! You’re supposed to be on the detail shadowing Agent Neilson to City Hall for the annual Convention. What happened?”
I rubbed at the back of my head as I cooked up a believable excuse, “He found somebody else for his security detail that he deemed ‘adequately sufficient’ and made me look like chopped liver in front of the guys is what”
He fought down a chuckle as he dipped his head, “That sounds like the self superior jaghole alright. My condolences. Hey, have you heard from Gary in the last twenty minutes? He isn’t answering any of my texts, ” He took out his phone and checked the message screen in emphasis, “Nope, still nothing”
“Think he’s clocked out already (‘In more ways than one’). He better treat his lady right, or I might move in on his turf and show him up” I boasted semi truthfully. Too bad dating those working for the Feds was against the rules.
He crooked his head in confusion, “Aren’t you with a dame already? Leslie, I think was her name? Brunette, nice hips, chesty as hell too. I’m jealous of you man”
I shrugged without a care, “Don’t be. She stepped out on me. Think she has a grudge against the people I work for” Though I guarantee that any grudge of hers could be trumped by mine any day of the week.
“You reckon she’s one of the sympathizers?” He asked conspiratorially in a whisper, as if his bosses might hear him and take offense to him even broaching the touchy topic.
Up and down went the shoulders again, “I never bothered her about it and she never told me”
“She might be red flagged, dude. You don’t want them examining you in depth due to association. It’s unpleasant, trust me. It’s probably for the best that you two split” Then his lips curled pruriently, “But I get the sloppy seconds if she’s nonpartisan”
I scoffed, “That’s disgusting. Anyways, can you let me get back to what I was doing? I’d like to use the elevator and then leave this glorified hovel we waste away in” “Why take the stairs up if you wanted to leave?” He poked holes in my logic.
I was above his rational retorts, “I have special business upstairs that I’m in no position to elaborate on without putting my job in jeopardy, what with it being classified material. Please… Nelson” I fake begged, skimming his name patch, “I’ll owe you a huge solid for this”
“Have the big wigs turned you into their errand boy?” Then he grinned wolfishly, “You cover my expenses the next time we have a trip to the bar together, and you’ve got yourself a deal” He held out his hand, which I cautiously accepted and shook, “Great. Now hurry off before my supervisor sees me shooting the breeze with you”
No need to be told twice, “Will do. See ya, Nelson” I waved back to him as I stalked down the hall.
“Don’t forget to set aside half your check for this weekend!” He called to me in humored tones, “I’m a heavy drinker, remember?”
I waggled my hand absently in the air as I ignored him, perturbing thoughts cycling in my mind. These people were no friends of mine and never would be. Though I was having greater difficulty with demonizing them the more I interacted with them and the more words were exchanged instead of bullets. These people wouldn’t be so friendly if they truly knew my purpose here, yet seeing their humanity reminded me that we were all just people in the end. People caught on opposite ends of an argument that went deeper than just who was in charge, but who was in charge of determining our destinies. The Feds considered individuality and resistance to being told how to live one’s life to be dangerous characteristics that had no place in their false ideas of utopia. Kids went to government funded schools to be ‘educated’, or indoctrinated really, as to what their role in life was and how they could best serve their country by offering all they were to Big Brother. The resistance, by whatever names it went by, is soundly opposed to this. We stress the ideals of self determinism for all denizens of the nation. The government was meant to serve the people and provide an environment for them to flourish, not the other way around.
But I was just a runner, an up-jumped courier and unspoken hero in the fight against the oppressive government. People like me simply didn’t have the time for an active social life outside of their job, even less so in my case. I couldn’t have one, not after they ruined my chances at a normal life, one that was unshackled to the conflict being waged in the shadows and on the city rooftops. My lot in life was consigned to delivering important packages, maintaining the verbal communications network between resistance cells, and the occasional snuffing out of a particularly brutal government official pushing for a violent crackdown on society; a tactic they were all too willing to adhere to in the opposite situation. As I reflected on that ultimate tidbit, I was consumed with vengeful urges that made me clench my fists until my nails dug into my flesh, though the part of me that still saw this as nothing more than a dream was puzzled that it couldn’t recall why that roused me to anger. I shook my head fervently as the elevators came into sight. It mattered naught. I had a duty to fulfill, and a means of vengeance to exact from those who so dearly deserved it.
With the elevators out of range from the surveillance cameras, I loosened my outfit and unstrapped my pack of versatile goodies. From its contents within the second zipper, I produced a dual capsule piece containing specially forged contact lenses that would fool the retinal scan into confirming it as some significant official on the Feds payroll, tape strips stamped with the fingerprints of that man, a recorder with the verbal code that was cunningly lifted from the official via a bug attached to his safe, and a sheet of paper with numbers on it… because even I couldn’t memorize every passcode out there. The panel for summoning the lift was a complex thing, with a speaker grill, a number pad, and the retinal scanner.
I had to do a little dance and jig for my ticket to the peak floor of the edifice to be punched, but soon the express elevator was on its way. I finished stripping and disposing of my disguise apparel in the lift. I reserved no doubts that my usage of the lift was noted in some kind of log, so as I entered my means of conveyance to the top floor, I stuck the block of plastic explosives I carried with me to the ceiling light fixture (no cameras in the elevator meant that I could keep it a surprise) and primed the detonator. I couldn’t risk a remote detonation failing, so I also set it on a dead man’s switch of six minutes. The initial estimates of how much time was required to carry out my objective left with me a couple minutes of leeway to disable it if I felt it necessary, which was unlikely. Once the bomb went off, it would destroy the elevator I was presently in while also disabling its twin in the adjacent shaft, thus preventing any reinforcements from ruining my evening. As an additional measure, I pressed every floor button on the console to keep the elevator as unavailable to security as possible.
The expeditious elevator stopped at the top floor of the building with a ding and the doors gaped wide. The spacy main server room was bathed in white light, giving off the impression of immaculate purity, though a man like me knew better than to entertain that idea for more than an attosecond. The windows had an extreme tint to them that severely restricted what would have been a stunning panorama of the city’s edge next to the river. There were elevated grated catwalks that crisscrossed the room and permitted access between multiple rows of server core modules, which were stacked atop the other like the building blocks holding up an oppressive government. That wasn’t the cleverest analogy I could devise, but it seemed the simplest. The aisles between servers were narrow and terminated abruptly, which gave the place the impression of a being a maze. The room was also bristling with cameras, the closest of which were rotating to center on me and my handsome mug. There were too many cameras for me to obfuscate with the M.O.U.S.E, so I beamed brightly as I walked forward, held out both arms to form a T shape, extended my middle fingers, and did a trio of spins as I waltzed into one of the government’s most closely guarded dirty secrets in the most defiant manner I was capable of.
In the middle of the room was a raised platform of slick white material bringing to mind the sheeny case of a music player, which I had to climb onto the catwalks to reach. Standing erect in the center of that platform was an access terminal that would suit me nicely. The feminine, artificial voice of the P.A loudly announced that there was an unauthorized intruder in the Black Zone and that security forces were being dispatched to deal with me. There were only two elevators (for the moment) that could bring the Feds up here, and they were only roomy enough to transport eight to ten armed soldiers at a time, which were odds that I could cope with if I used the labyrinth like passages of the server banks as firing lanes. They would essentially have to bottleneck themselves in this room filled with expensive hardware. Unless they brought in reinforcements from the roof by way of helicopter, which wouldn’t very inconspicuous to the public, who would demand to know what the people in power were hiding here. I was putting the Feds between a rock and a hard place before I had even bloodied their noses, which augmented my morale and increased my resolution to see this night to its climax.
I approached the terminal and tapped a random button to light the screen up. The message displayed notified me that all access was revoked until the proper codes could be input. I did not possess these codes, and they updated them every other day, so my contacts could not help me with that. Auspiciously for me, they didn’t need to lift a finger to aid me in extracting what my employers wanted from this place. Pulling out the carbon fiber casing in my pack, I plugged it in and powered it up, the device thrummed once before tiny clicks emanated from its internal mechanisms. The screen distorted before reverting to a basic black background with green lettering, which soon proliferated as a stream of code was analyzed before my eyes.
As I began to work, I heard only the barest traces of shoe padding treading the catwalk to my right. The Five seveN was out and ready for trouble, instincts honed from years of experience automatically guiding my movements with a smooth hand, whipping it in the direction of the disturbance. The interloper paused some ten paces away from me and held their hands up in a placating gesture, retaining the rare sense of a rational thinker and not some goon hired by the Feds to babysit their stuff. My vision shifted the barest amount until I was able to recognize the form and shape of this person in my side view, though I did not implicitly trust them yet.
“Ah-ah-ah! Not one step closer… Faith” I commanded, my eyes not leaving the terminal screen in front of me, “After that nasty run in with the splinter faction last year, I’m not taking any chances” I kept her in my peripherals with my finger on the trigger, in case she might have joined them.
It was rather unlikely though, the girl was an idealistic Free Runner who shared my distaste for the domineering regime, through and through. She wasn’t too shabby to look at either, albeit that could have been my partially Asian ancestry speaking to me. Being a walking melting pot, I found beauty in many an ethnic group. Now was not the time to muse on my preferences when it came to females though. Speaking of, the woman was clothed in a black jumpsuit similar to mine with a courier’s bag with pouches strapped diagonally to her chest. The difference between our outfits was that hers had these garish yellow streaks running up and down the shoulders, and her crimson gloves were fingerless for improved tactile sensation instead of grip. On one of her arms were tattoos that reminded me of circuitry, though the most mysterious of those marks was the one under her right eye, reminiscent of two inky spikes and adding to her exotic factor.
She kept her hands held in a nonthreatening gesture of compliance, “Easy… Runner, I’m on your side” She said, using the standard, if not unoriginal, impersonal greeting that runners gave each other when meeting on neutral terms, “How’d you know it was me?”
“We have worked together enough times that your gait has become recognizable. No matter how stealthily you try sneak up on me, I’ll know it’s you” I answered idly as I holstered my pistol and returned to what I was doing, judging her as friendly. My fingers tapped up a storm on the console in a non peck typing style, another weird detail with this dream that didn’t match myself. Part of me was speaking the words to the woman, another part that wasn’t me thought of what to say. To have such dissonance with dominance over my body was disconcerting, but I passed it off as unimportant.
‘This dream gets more confusing with every passing moment’ Lucidity was supposed to rationalize things, wasn’t it?
She stifled a chuckle, “I don’t know whether to feel flattered or worried by that”
“Neither” I curtly clarified for her, “I have a meticulous mind for these details. How did you infiltrate this building?”
She pointed her index finger skywards, “The roof. I called in a favor from somebody who snuck me in on one of those Skycrates they use to ship replacements parts for the two dozen or so air conditioning units they have here. The rest was just exploiting the camera’s blind spots and waiting for you to show up. You’ve got a pair on you if you’re thinking you can take down the Feds in their den all alone. They’ve hired PK as the guard dog for this place. They’re well funded private security with intimate ties to the government, and should not be taken lightly or be engaged alone. I had a few run-ins with them before, and they nearly killed me each time. I’m here to back you up so the same doesn’t happen to you”
I involuntarily spared her a cursory sidelong glance, “I’m not strictly alone on this solo operation. A.I.M, what’s our status?”
Two electronic voices, one male and the other female, which were overlapped over the other responded from the grill speakers on my wrist mounted computed, “Initiating data slicing subroutines… spooling… spooling. Slicing sequence initiated. Time to completion… five minutes, twenty eight seconds. I have also commandeered other systems linked to this building and beyond. Recommend doing a perimeter sweep to check for and neutralize hostile patrols. The Runner designated Faith might prove an invaluable asset in achieving successful data extraction and egress”
The device pulsed with every word it spoke, and Faith peered at the device with barely concealed shock, “I forgot that you have a thing for serious tech. Where did you get that?”
“I ambushed a military convoy disguised as common eighteen wheeler freight. Took months for me to track the damn route down and assemble a crack team with a death wish to stage the ambush” I grumbled, and her eyes seemed to shine with amusement.
“And that… hard drive was the prize?” She guessed, bemused. This was probably the longest conversation we’ve had in over a year, so I couldn’t blame her for fumbling with her words.
“Not specifically, no. My… employer, shall we say, believed that the convoy was delivering a new shipment of crowd dispersing firearms to deal with the recent string of civil protests in the streets that the CPF couldn’t disperse on its own without resorting to lethal force. Instead I secured myself a prototype Artificial Intelligence Matrix and some other cool toys worth quite a pretty penny. My employer let me keep some of them as a token of our cooperation and friendship, which was kind of her” That invaluable package I carried for her almost two years ago opened up a brand new door chocked full of lucrative opportunities. My employer and the people she associated with doubtlessly benefited more from the info in that package than me, but I wasn’t in this for the money.
‘Many Bothans died to bring us this information’ I mentally japed, which that other part of me that somehow wasn’t me found inordinately funny.
“I ran interference for you on the job that garnered you the extra attention, didn’t I?” She retorted, “I don’t recall receiving so much as a thank you for it either”
“Thanks” I sarcastically obliged her, “And you were doing a wonderful job of it, until the Feds realized that something was amiss and sent choppers laden with their fearless enforcers after me. The situation looked sketchy, but instead of perfecting the art of the fail, I powered through fighting tooth and nail” I summed up with a shrug, “Bastards tried to drop a building on top of me in their fervor. First time I’ve had that happen” And merciful lord above willing, I prayed it was the last.
She laughed, a pleasant sound from a pretty face, “Ha! That was because of you!? They covered that up as a faulty demolitions triggering, and you downplay being the real reason cool as a cucumber. Spoken like a true blockade runner” She crossed her arms together and frowned, “Bringing down the building on top of you was a bit excessive even for the government in its efforts to rid itself of us runners. Many bystanders minding their business below were injured by falling debris; one of them was the niece of wealthy politician who exited out of the scene. You inadvertently gave him second thoughts about that choice. Now Candidate Forester’s following is well on its way to becoming the dominant voting party”
I scowled, “Don’t you know that the elections are rigged? Half the time the leader of the progressive party doesn’t even live to see the people cast their ignored ballots. Forester will be no different”
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me, “Have you always been this cynical? The populace is inflamed by how intrusive the Feds have gotten, thanks to the carefully leaked information that we have been acquiring and that our clients have been dispensing publicly. Nothing is forbidden to the rampant regime, and folks are just beginning to realize that and stand against it vehemently. Our efforts will fan the flames until it becomes an inferno” She stood confidently as she spouted her zeal, “There is a prospect for positive change in the future, all due in part to our tireless work”
A.I.M intervened before I could reply, “Runners. Scans indicate that you both are in for a round of unpleasant company. Security has overridden my owner’s primitive yet effective delaying tactics and forced both lifts to head straight for this level. I estimate sixteen individuals total. All are undeniably armed and dangerous. Recommend caution when engaging”
I sighed and un-holstered my gun, “Might as well give them a warm welcome” I let A.I.M resume slicing and dicing the encrypted data so vital to this mission and made to greet our guests.
“Woah, woah!” Faith stepped in front of me, “The doors to those elevators are going to open and over two dozen guys are going to pour out of them spitting hot lead. Are you bulletproof?”
“My torso area is adequately protected” I assured her, sidling past her and down the stairs of the catwalk, “And I have a nasty surprise awaiting half of that number” I brought up my wrist computer and cued the application for remote detonation of the plastic explosive I hid in one of the elevators.
One tap of a digital detonation button later and the floor rocked violently from the reverberations of the bomb, the lights overhead flickered sporadically before they shifted to a red, the warning siren began blaring like a wounded banshee, and the P.A system announced that the building was under assault and that the authorities were mobilizing all units in the region to converge here. Faith looked at me in concern before I gave her a look saying ‘This is how I roll. Either get with the program or go home’, to which she inhaled and steadied herself. She seemed exasperated that she was putting up with my reckless modus operandi, but she was in too deep to withdraw herself now.
“You have a weapon?” I asked her, taking out the clip of my pistol to ensure that it was at full capacity with one in the chamber before shunting it back into the gun with a shuffling scrape.
She shook her head, “That’s not how I normally do things. We should just grab what we need, trash the server banks, and leave” She spoke as if from personal experience.
“The timer for A.I.M’s extensive work has to expire before we just up and go. You can’t always take flight, Faith” I told her, “Sometimes you got to hunker down and fight. I’ll draw their fire and focus their attention on me. You see an opportunity to attack, you take it”
She was about to argue, but the doors to the undamaged elevator slid open and flashbangs were tossed into the room. I lost track of Faith as my instincts kicked in again. I took cover in a depression behind the stairs where there was a groove in the ground allowing passage beneath a row of server banks to perform maintenance. The flashbangs went off with an explosion of light and tremendous bang that had my ears ringing despite covering them. Men in combat gear came forth in groups of two wielding compact submachine guns and body armor. I briefly took aim and squeezed off a round. A flash of the muzzle was accompanied by a spray of blood as the bullet tore through a man’s unarmored jugular and he went down with a thud. His partner on the right saw where the fire came from and unloaded the clip of his submachine gun in my direction. I ducked down into the makeshift trench as the bullets impacted harmlessly overhead, with some hitting the bullet resistant glass encasing one of the server banks and spider-webbing it with ugly cracks.
“Watch your fire you fools!” An aggravated voice that I vaguely recognized yelled over the constant screaming of the siren, “That equipment is worth more than any of you would make in ten of your lifetimes! If any of it is damaged in any way, then it’s on your head! Kill the culprit only if you have a clear shot away from the servers!”
They were warned against accidentally destroying the server equipment, and they only knew that I was here with them. That could prove advantageous in this fight. I crept to my left and rolled in between a row of banks underneath the glass caging. A duo of men passed by as they swept over the area I was previously and notified their leader over the radio. I scaled the groove and opened the door to the glass cage before rounding the corner to begin stalking my clueless enemy. Faith hadn’t made her move yet, though I was reasonably sure that she was doing the same, but from above in the poorly lit area above the top row of servers. Singling out the most isolated duo of government lackeys, I dropkicked the one on the right, sending him sprawling forward onto his face, and shot his partner in the ankle as I landed none too gently on the ground.
The howling man accidentally pulled the trigger to his suppressed automatic weapon and discharged bullets all over the place, two of them striking me in the chest like a one-two punch but failing to penetrate the reactive gel in my protective wear, as well as weakening the glass to several server banks and demolishing a tiny section of the outside glass panels, exposing the room to the outside elements. I ended his misery with a follow up shot to his chin and painted his helmet with brain matter. The man on the floor hastily got to his feet and spun around with his weapon ready, my foot sprang forward and kicked his aim aside as I did the same to him. With the penetration values of the bullets I was using, it wasn’t really necessary for me to exploit their unarmored regions, but it was a judicious practice that I stuck to.
The Five seveN roared like a particularly peeved beast though, and as soon as my weapon had gone off, everybody knew precisely where I was. I heard and saw on my heartbeat sensor that two squads in the vicinity were running my way and about to close off my only avenues of escape, which was when Faith made her move. Dropping down from above as one squad rounded the bend, she landed on the shoulders of one shocked security guard and used her momentum to spin around with her legs wrapped around his neck. The man let out a strangled croak and lost his footing, tumbling to the clean floor in a heap. She latched on to his helmet and punched down into his throat, stunning him and preventing him from throwing her off as she strangled him into a state of unconsciousness. His partner had noticed what was going on and skid in his tracks before rotating in place with his gun trained on the woman. He was about to pump Faith full of lead when I unloaded three cartridges of 5.7×28mm into his spine, causing him to fall bonelessly to his knees before plunking his face onto the floor tiles. I sensed gratitude in her brown eyes as an unspoken understanding passed between us.
I accessed our surroundings with the heartbeat sensor and noted that the men were pulling back to the elevators after our demonstration, “They appear to be holding off at the moment. They know we can pick them apart if they split up” I searched the bodies of the dead security officers and lifted two grenades that they had no need for anymore.
She stared at me peculiarly, “I don’t remember you being so composed when the bullets started flying, nor so serious when they were. Usually you’d be grinning like a madman when your blood was up”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think” I countered, pressing on the magazine catch by the trigger of the pistol to eject the nearly half emptied clip. When given some breathing room by your opponents, always reload the weapon. It’s far better to have a full magazine at all times.
She wasn’t pleased with this response, I could tell, “Well do you at least have a plan for dealing with these bastards? I’m not proud of my uselessness in these cramped spaces, and it’s unlikely that they’ll continue to let us divide and conquer”
“You’re doing fine, Faith” I assuaged her with sincere words, “Our plan is simple. Observe our enemies and react accordingly, as dictated by the circumstances” I inserted the fresh mag and felt the urge to pull the slide back to chamber a round despite there already being one in there, “At least take a sidearm with you. There’s not much space to maneuver in here the way we’re used to, so guns will have to be the order of the day”
She shuddered but acquiesced, “Firearms make me feel dirty. It doesn’t help that I feel like a trapped bird in this glass and metal cage”
“The beneficial news is that they want to protect their invaluable servers more than they want us dead, so sticking by those should make them hesitate with pulling the trigger. Plus I have a few tricks on my sleeve” I reminded her, before raising my left arm to my mouth in emphasis and speaking into the miniscule microphone on the wrist computer, “A.I.M, can you get me the camera feed to this floor?” If we knew where our opponents were, we could outmaneuver them if they chose offense.
“Indeed I can, Runner” It responded in a hushed voice, “Diverting camera feeds to your device. I’ve taken the liberty of presenting you with the closest one to your adversaries. Audio was scrambled from the stun grenades, but I’ve rebooted it for your convenience” It added, sounding eager to please us despite its lack of a true personality.
The screen on my wrist computer switched to a fuzzy camera feed of the remainder of the security forces huddled by the elevators. Berating them and giving frenzied commands was a classily suited man who had a hand in making me who I was today.
“Andersen” I growled, “The fates are smiling on me tonight, for they have delivered you to me”
“You know this man?” Faith questioned, unsettled by the concentrated venom in my tone.
“I know that he’s a dead man walking” I seethed, grinding my teeth, “Leave him to me. He is mine to kill”
Faith cringed at the unadulterated hatred in my voice and watched the screen as the men nodded to their leader, equipped breathing filtration gear, and pulled out multiple cylinders with troubling markings stamped on them before yanking at the rings and tossing them our way, “Wait… what are they doing? Are those…?”
“Tear gas canisters. Not something we want in our lungs” I realized, before indicating to the corpses, “Quick, put on their gas masks!”
We frenetically ripped the M50 masks off of their persons and donned them straightaway, right as the obscuring smoke began to fog around the spot we where hunched down in. I made a single glance down at the screen and confirmed that our antagonists had not moved, likely waiting for reinforcements from below since they hadn’t the manpower to overwhelm us now. Faith and I couldn’t handle too many men, or we’d be overrun. I motioned at her using standard silent Runner signs for her to create a diversion to draw most of them away from their positions, handing her both of the submachine guns from our felled opponents. She understood my meaning and stalked off to set up her ambush. With two guns and the thick smoke limiting everyone’s field of vision, she could reasonably trick our opponents into believing that both of us were in one place when the reality was not so. If she was persuasive, I could use the distraction to toss a grenade into the last elevator’s doors when they opened and permanently deal with that threat.
I switched to thermal video imaging and studied the screen on my watch closely, feeling somewhat impressed that Faith was still sneaky enough to bypass the viewing fields of the cameras. I repositioned myself by running up the window to jump onto the glass caging of a server bank before traveling to the other side of the room from there. The popping report of dual gunfire erupting and men shouting as some were hit and returned fire occurred to my left as I palmed my grenades like they were precious jewels. Once I had tiptoed into the space in front of the elevators, I discovered another dead security guard lying in a pool of his own blood as his comrades fought to avenge him in the fog. There couldn’t have been more than three of them left at this point, and if they were foolish enough to fall for our tricks then we might pull this off. I pulled the rings to the grenades and held them primed for a two second delay until detonation. The elevator arrived promptly within the next ten seconds and its occupants had those two seconds to let out a strangled curse before they were engulfed in flames of orange and yellow. The sheer force of the blast severed the lift from its cables and it plummeted below to crater into its final resting place.
I heard a yell of rage behind me as the man I had waited over eight years to kill finally showed his face in person. I felt him tackle me to the floor and my grip on my pistol was wrenched away as he turned me about and pummeled at my face with his meaty paws. I begrudgingly let it go and brought my arms up to defend my rugged good looks. Agent Andersen wasn’t liable to recognize me with the gas mask covering most of my features, but I knew his shape, his impatient movements, and the jagged scar on his nose that he probably earned for being a ruthless murderer. I also know that he was personally responsible for the deaths of at least fifty of our people, leading covert assaults on dens where the resistance movement coalesced its numbers. They barely had the slightest warnings from the outside sentries before his men had charges planted on our doors and stun grenades at the ready. Taken off guard as they were, each of the resistance cells they assailed were slaughtered almost to the very last man.
Before all of that bloodshed, the man was part of a botched assassination job involving my father at our lakeside cabin over the waters of a lake. It had been a secondary home that we infrequently used for vacation when my mother had still been amongst the living. Before the regime rose to power, my father was an influential member of the old government and was respected among his peers and rivals alike for establishing a common ground between opposing parties. It came as no surprise that the regime would crave having him onboard to support their new platform of safety and security through acts of wiretapping, (then) illicit subterfuge, and intimidation. They increased the budget for both defense projects and police forces to put them in their pocket, they limited and outright forbid certain rights of the citizens that were ‘unsafe’ for them to exercise, and began a wave of surveillance reforms that gave them eyes on even nonthreatening places that were ordinarily mundane. I grumblingly concede that this government did maximize efficiency and praised shrewd stewardship over the environment, championing renewable energy as the primary energy source for the country. For his future role in ridding them of what they perceived as a substantial challenger, they would elevate Andersen to his current position as one of their loyal attack dogs.
Why did I hate Andersen so much? Well, when my father refused to jump on the bandwagon of the newly elected administration, the regime officials saw this as a blatant act of defiance and considered him a possible risk to their consolidating power. So they scheduled an unofficial ‘accident’ to take place as my father and I sojourned to our privately owned picturesque cabin in the woods for ‘Some quality time together away from the worries of the world’ as he ironically put it. Officially, the tale was spun so that I was to take the blame for the murder of my father; supposedly shooting the man in his sleep and setting the cabin alight as I fled the scene. This fabricated story was only so because I was awake sipping at my iced coffee when they broke into the place, aspiring to find us easy kills. I ran to the fireplace to retrieve our aging eight gauge, double barreled hunting shotgun and tore it off the rack nailed over the mantelpiece. I leveled it at the two men who were to silence me and the massive buckshot rounds gibbed them in that close quarters range. Seeing that his comrades were messily dispatched, the last assassin drew his suppressed gun and was about to kill me as I fumbled with reloading the clunky weapon’s tubes. Instead my father had heard the racket and was awake. He saw the peril I was in and lunged at the assassin to throw the man’s aim off, swinging his fists and shouting like a man whose home had been invaded.
Brave as he was, my father was a retired politician, not a fighter. All the cussing assassin had to do was backpedal and dodge my father’s nigh rabid hooks until he had a clear shot, which he took no less than six times. As my father sunk to his knees and spat up blood, I screamed in despair and sought to kill his murderer. But the bald man recognized that he had achieved his task and bugged out as the wood where his head had previously been splintered into a thousand fragments, but not before he glowered at me for making his job more complicated… which permitted me to memorize his facial characteristics after I had committed his gruff voice to memory, which was a mistake he would come to rue someday. He detonated an incendiary charge that set the cabin on fire as he ran into the woods, hoping to destroy all evidence of what happened there. The conflagration spread ravenously, and I had only a short amount of time before the flames threatened to consume us.
I was hardly into my adult years as I cradled my dying father in my arms and sobbed like a lost child. His last gurgled words were a plea to me that I would run, run from these men who had taken everything from me in one fell swoop and live my life freely. He begged me to take the hatch under the living room rug that we used for swimming in the lake that the cabin was suspended over, caressing my cheek once before going limp in my arms and giving up the ghost. I shut his eyes with my trembling fingers and gingerly set him down as the fire blazed around us, feeling strangely calm inside. I honored his final wishes and escaped a death by cooking alive, swimming to an island overgrown with foliage in the middle of the lake where I could wait out the men who were unquestionably watching the cabin turn to cinders to verify that there were no survivors.
A day came and went before I crawled ashore on northwest end of the lake with a different kind of fire affecting me. A burning desire for revenge. My father had emergency sums of money stowed away on offshore accounts he told me about that were not accessible to the government, and in the event of his death, would be dispensed to me… along with passports and falsified documentation, presumably for undergoing an identity change. They were accounts that I could use to easily disappear, but instead I used the wherewithal to purchase equipment and train rigorously for the day that I could exact my vengeance on the people who were directly involved in my father’s senseless murder. They couldn’t even respect his memory, indicating him in several false unsavory acts that depicted him as a relic from a corrupt and rotted past, inciting me to further heights of fury. It didn’t even register with me that I was accused of being the one to kill him. The evidence at the crime scene had been altered as to best inculpate me as the likeliest suspect, with the charred bodies of the assassins claimed as my father’s protection detail. This was corroborated my total disappearance, which admittedly did not lend me much credence as to my innocence in the matter. Not that I had much of a choice between that and being put in kangaroo court and being subsequently ‘disappeared’ while on the truck to prison.
With my unflattering unsmiling face photo plastered all over the nation’s news agency feeds and a ridiculous backstory made up by government investigators of my sociopathic tendencies being kept a secret by my father until it killed him being narrated by grinning bimbos with unnaturally white teeth, it was not long until I was anonymously contacted my somebody who personally knew my father, and by extension myself through him. He didn’t believe a single spoon-fed word of what the recently established regime had to say about my father or myself, and offered me a choice. I could remain in the shadows preparing to wage a one man war against a government that could lazily snuff me out the second I materialized from hiding, or I could wage it alongside a newly created movement that operated out of the public eye, delivering messages and packages between clients whose interests aligned with ours. Knowing that it was the best opportunity for vengeance that I could wish for, I accepted and joined the nascent liberty seeking Runners. They taught me how to make best use of the environment to facilitate my movement, showing me the ins and outs of making a drop, coaching me in underground training facilities far removed from the government’s notice, and instructing me on keeping cool when the situation grew hot.
Back in the present, Andersen had left an opening that I exploited, catching his fist and punching him in the face with the force required to crack the eye lens on his mask. His head whipped back from the blow and shifted enough of his weight for me to toss him off with a heaving motion. We both got to our feet and rushed at each other with murderous intent in our eyes. Andersen’s style of fighting resembled dirty boxing, trying for grapples to the neck to hold opponents in place as they sustained withering uppercuts, elbows, and knees to the face. To counter this, I slid and spun away his attempts to grab me. I wasn’t the greatest at martial arts, preferring to just shoot my enemies (I was lucky that Andersen was vicious enough that he chose to beat an opponent into submission first before killing them with guns) instead of smacking them about. Still, as I danced around my hated enemy, I felt my body begin to move in ways that I had never trained in. I countered Andersen’s hooks and haymakers by intercepting them at their fulcrum before striking at his body’s pressure points with my fists.
My body stance was like a rod of bamboo, firm yet flexible, rooted yet unyielding. I idly wondered where all this Feng Shui nonsense came into play, but didn’t complain since it was granting me the ability to kick this man’s ass, which he was sorely in need of. Any punches of his that made it through my solid defense were absorbed as I adjusted for the sudden shocks like a human block of gelatin. Andersen’s inability to find any weaknesses in my defense made him angry, which in turn made him act rashly and foolishly. Two minutes into our clash I blocked a sluggish lead fisted overhand swing and kissed his solar plexus with my knuckles and everything I had, essentially driving the wind out of him and engendering him to take a few steps back. He vocalized a muffled cursed at my obstinacy and his hand slipped into his suit, undoubtedly clutching for his gun. I saw the shiny silver of a Desert Eagle’s chrome casing aimed right at my forehead and his fingers tensing at the trigger before a single shot rang out.
Andersen yowled as the high powered pistol clattered to the floor, along with a few of his fingers attached. He held up the afflicted hand and gaped at the fleshy ruin sprouting from his palms, where bits of bone could be faintly seen. He backpedaled in the direction of the elevator, the doors of which had been ripped ajar from the grenade blast. I seized the opportunity presented to me and darted full steam ahead before putting all of my weight into a dropkick, sending him careening into the black maw waiting to swallow him up. In a last desperate attempt to save his sorry skin, he grasped at the edges of the elevator doors to keep from tumbling over the precipice. I retrieved my Five seveN and immediately shot his uninjured left hand, destroying his grip with that hand as his bloodied right began to slip from the lubrication of the sanguine fluid.
As I prepared to finish him off, I switched my gun to my left hand and grabbed him by his fashionable suit tie to pull him close to me with my right, “For my Father” I whispered, and his gray eyes widened as he recognized me. My pistol barked and his right hand was obliterated as I callously let go of him, resulting in Andersen taking the express route earthward. For such a vociferous man in life, he was remarkably quiet on the way down to his death.
“A.I.M!” I snapped commandingly to the wrist computer, my need for vengeance partially satiated, “Filter this room for me please! I’m sick of wearing this frigging mask!”
The pint sized artificial intelligence obeyed, and the vents in the room roared to life as they worked overtime to flush the tear gassed room and replace the fouled air with unadulterated oxygen. I did away with my gas mask and breathed deeply of the recycled but now purified atmosphere, under the impression like a massless weight had been lifted from my shoulders. There was an abrupt sound of a submachine being discarded and I turned about-face. A likewise unmasked Faith wandered up to my side looking a bit worse for wear, covered in scrapes and scuffs along with a sizable chunk of shredded flesh by her bicep where a bullet tore clean through in a close call, the wound now oozing with blood. I saw this injury and was concerned for her. We had worked in coordination loosely before, but this was the first time we faced down death together and came out on top, so she had earned my implicit trust.
“So you finally killed him, huh? He and the last of his men were pinning me down by one of the servers when he heard the explosion and realized that he had been duped. I was preoccupied but got back here in time to prevent him from putting one in that skull. Though with how thick that thing is, chances are the round would’ve bounced off” She apologized as my expression let her know how unamused I was by her jest, “Feel any better?” She asked, not unkindly.
“I’m underwhelmed, honestly” I admitted. It was half a lie and half the absolute truth, “Though if I wasn’t a proper gent, I’d kiss you for creating that opening for me” That I meant unanimously.
“It’s a shame you’re such a prude then” She retorted lightheartedly, eyeing me indecipherably.
“Anyways… you’re wounded” I stated the obvious, ignoring her teasing, “Here. Let me help you” I unzipped a pouch on my pack containing a container with analgesic foam that would also speed along the healing process while stanching the blood loss.
She tried to dismiss it, “Ah, it’s not a big deal” She said, hissing as I applied the heady smelling foam to disinfect the wound.
“Just a flesh wound, as it were?” I replied with a smirk. The Monty Python reference had her chuckling. Both halves of me thought up that reference, and now both sides were arguing over who conceived it first.
She stood on one foot and shook her right leg, “My leg’s not off, so I’m in relatively okay shape all things considered”
‘You gotta love a girl who can share your appreciation for cliché humor’ A part of me missed making allusions that other understood, though the other part had no idea why.
“I see our senses of humor are still intact” I dryly observed, wrapping the wounded area in sterile gauze. After that was done, I began to climb up the stairs and towards the platform where the visual display terminal was standing, unscathed from all of the violence that had taken place in the form of bullets and shrapnel. Though most of that had been constrained to below the stair level.
“A.I.M. Is this terminal linked to the grid perchance? Do you have access to all telecommunication networks from here?” I inquired of the glorified talking supercomputer in a can as I approached the terminal, the case containing the artificial intelligence was still hooked in and was wreaking havoc with the Fed’s information systems, as well as bypassing its security and downloading data simultaneously. A.I.M was truly one of a kind, worth countless dollars, and would prove central in eroding the government’s remaining credibility with the uninformed public.
“Indeed I do have full media access, Runner. Additionally, every satellite owned by the nation is now permanently under our control” It chirped cheerfully, “Do you wish to patch yourself through? I have several pre-written inspiring, call to action speeches at your disposal should you desire to utilize them. Furthermore, my data slicing subroutines have run their course. We need only extract ourselves before your mission is complete”
“That’s great news, but I think I’ll speak from the heart on this one” I told it in a genuinely relieved voice, “Now lets see if we can make some history”
I stood in front of the screen camera of the terminal, my face dirty with sweat and drying blood that wasn’t mine from the intense firefight just prior, and spoke into the microphone, “Citizens of the City, we interrupt your regularly scheduled bullshit to bring you a message. I’m here with a friend in the recently torn up server room located at the top of a seemingly abandoned edifice in the Golden Condor District” Camera feeds of the room we were in were shown to me and the viewers on the mirroring screen, showcasing the server banks used to store and encode the information gained from the government’s acts of unregulated surveillance, “In this chamber are stored all the events of your daily lives. From the time that you sat down with your favorite bowl of bran flakes to when you pulled the blankets over yourself to get some shuteye. Every single thing that you’ve been doing… the government has been monitoring… and if they see something they don’t like about you, guess what happens?”
I snapped my fingers and glared at the camera, “You’re gone! Vanished! Poof! Wisps of smoke! It’s already happened to three dozen people in the last two weeks alone, and according to the information I have here… over half that number are now deceased from the initial trauma they’ve inflicted on them, and the other half are being ‘behaviorally reprogramed’ via a nasty concoction of drugs injected into their bloodstream, solitary confinement in a pit devoid of light and all human presence, and a regimen of periodic shocks to both mental and physical integrity. In short… they’ve broken these people beyond repair. To the regime the common people are merely sheep prancing about to their tune. If they don’t like the way they dance… then they shear them. If they still don’t see an improvement… they butcher them” I emphasized, bitterness seeping into my every word and imbuing them with resolution.
Pictures and media clips were inserted into the video feed of these poor souls going through hell. Some of them were teenagers barely on the brink of adulthood. Half of them were screaming in agony as men dressed in white calmly and clinically interrogated them, punishing them with more pain when they refused to answer their questions or were too scared to muster up words. The solitary confinement pits were nothing more than shallow holes dug into the earth that were too narrow to sit and recuperate, and too short for a person to stand entirely. This senseless cruelty was intended to maximize the shock factor and incite anger at the indignity of what the Feds had done to its own citizens. I did neglect to mention the detail that a quarter of these people were with the resistance and technically insurgents, since that didn’t excuse the other three quarters of the prisoners. There was plenty of evidence highlighting the sins committed by the government in their quest to keep their boots firmly planted on our necks, but they would have to wait before it came to light.
“I’m seeing helos in the distance!” Faith warned to me in the background over the incrementally increasing noise of whirring chopper blades, “We’re running low on time here! Get to the point already!”
I grunted in frustration, before obliging the woman pressuring me and getting to the point for my audience, “The people who are in power… are monsters. Paranoid to the point where even regular Joes droning away in the background are perceived as threats for having an undue fascination with the color of crimson. Don’t think that this is something that can be rectified through the system of law, or through litigation, or even with peaceful demonstration. None of us have forgotten the November Riots so many years ago, nor the good people we lost once the government took its gloves off. The issue was that when they played their hand… the populace folded. We as a society have become too lax, and yielded up too much power over our destinies to those who would abuse it at the first chance. It’s high time we had some of that power back”
“What a repressive government never seems to comprehend about its citizenry is that the harder they tighten their grip on us, the more control slips through their fingers” I gesticulated with a contracting fist to the camera. My voice was almost pleading, “No one can take away your ability to choose, not even the government, try though as they might. So I’m outlining your options for you so you can make a legitimately informed decision about how you’ll face the future. If you don’t like what I have to say… if you prefer the fragile peace of the lie that you’re living… then you can shut off the screens you’re viewing this on and go about your lives like nothing has happened. However… if you agree that the will of the people takes precedence over the will of the few…” The symbol of the organized revolt my employer was a member of flashed up on the screen, “…then look for us… and we’ll find you. We are the Free Runners. Signing off”
The screen went dark and I could tell even through the tinted glass that the searchlights of the choppers were within range to illuminate our silhouettes through the window. A.I.M disconnected itself after purging the servers of all data and rendering them blank, its purpose having been served flawlessly. The fourth estate would soon receive a tidal wave of data enlightening them to what the government had been up to over the years, both illicit oversea and domestic affairs. The Press was one of the few non partisan entities to resist government influence with little to no negative consequences to them. They could spread the word with virtual impunity. And if the government acted against them, then the people would have no choice but to take to the streets. I had a hunch that the resistance would be expecting a significant increase in recruitment within the next few weeks. I snatched up the case and stuffed it in into my inventory before Faith motioned for me to follow her as we took another maintenance access that led to the roof. The roof itself was studded with spinning air conditioning units and a discreet helipad that was unlit. Next to the helipad was an offloading zone where an uncovered Skycrate and a couple of large bags could be found. Upon closer inspection it was revealed to be parachute gear. Rimming the edges of the rooftop were concrete walls that kept all of this concealed from anyone with a pair of binocs.
“Strap this on for size” Faith directed to me, handing me the larger of the two harnesses, “We’re going to glide to our means of evac. Don’t pull the ripcord too soon, or those choppers will catch up to you drifting in midair and dice you into chunks. Pull the second ripcord to detach the chute once you’re certain you’re over the boat”
“And where is this means of evac?” I inquired askance, putting on the harness and making sure the straps were securely fastened.
“See this boat bobbing up and down on the river water waiting for us? At the terminus of the second wooden pier on the left concrete embankment?” She pointed it out after hijacking usage of my wrist computer to switch to camera view of the river piers, “That’s going to be our ticket to the extraction point”
The shadowy speck didn’t appear all that impressive from where the camera was suspended, being a simple four seater motorboat by my reckoning. And I somehow doubted that my opinion of its capabilities would change once we were down there running for our lives.
“I’m not exactly reassured by your arrangements” I expressed those doubts. Though perhaps I was being a whiner. Powerboats were deemed unsafe by the regime and were scrapped, though I believe only because they could evade anything hounding them with ease.
“Would you rather swim?” Faith retorted without skipping a beat, “Besides… it was the best I could lay my fingers on with what I was given. Not all of us Runners have the luxury of generously wealthy clients. There is a time for fighting as you say, and there is a time for flying. Now would be one of those times”
“Fair enough” I conceded, “Albeit even I would be denied if I requested my employer to provide a speedy Hydro-craft for dodging the Feds downwind of one of their most treasured complexes”
“Oh, poor you…” She crooned, before grinning devilishly at me, “Race ya to the bottom!” She immediately began to sprint ahead, jumping on top of and hurdling between the boxy AC units with bounding strides, as if she was a gazelle.
I cursed confoundedly as my competitive nature kicked into gear, chasing after her. It took more effort than I was willing to confess to negate her head start, but before I could overtake her, she had already leapt off the ledge. There was a part of me that was secretly terrified of heights and dreading what I was about to do, but the part that had me in motion was an adrenaline junkie that loved the sensation of free fall. I vaulted over the edge and there was an instant pinch in my chest, the portion of me that hated heights was railing as my bladder went into my throat. I didn’t care though… I was having too much fun. I spread my arms and legs out midflight to increase the air resistance on my body and manipulate a miniscule bit of my descent. The drop didn’t last longer than a few seconds before I had to yank at the ripcord to avoid becoming a splatter of guts on the sidewalk.
Faith’s ram-air chute blossomed out of her pack, exhibiting a circuitry design in the moonlight much like the tattoo on her arm. I glanced up at mine and was disappointed to see that it was featureless, but it was a petty complaint that had no real bearing on its function. The once intermittent reception of helicopter blades went from a dull white noise to a pertinent din, warning us that danger was right on our tails. I spared a look to our rear to see that transport choppers were circling around the building and troops were rappelling onto the rooftop. What was worrying though was that they had an agile Little Bird helo with them that seemed to take notice of us as we glided to our getaway vehicle, which was a classy looking wooden boat with fiberglass coating the hull to give it that glossy texture when illuminated. Faith and I tugged at the second ripcords and detached from our chutes as the lines automatically severed themselves, landing inside the watercraft.
“I’ll take the wheel!” Faith shouted, manning the helm and starting up the ignition. The dual engines growled as they began working before settling on a rumble, signaling that they were primed and ready. I sat next to her and watched our six.
The Little Bird was in the middle of its descent to begin pursuit as Faith pushed all the way forward on the lever of the accelerator and we rocketed out of the pier and down the river. The river itself followed a snakelike meander and became wider as we progressed past docks and fat cargo ships loading and unloading their cargo containers. The boat we were on wasn’t slow by any means, but the Little Bird nipping at our heels was a good deal swifter and was gaining ground on us by the second. From this distance I could tell that it was armed with rocket pods and twin miniguns that could mince us to pieces if they got in an accurate strafe. The pilot of that chopper must have had an itchy trigger finger, since he tried his luck when he was a range greater than two football field’s lengths. The miniguns sputtered and a barrage of bullets sent up sprays of water scarily close to the mark, and that was just a ranging shot.
“Gonna need some evasive maneuvers here!” I called to Faith, clutching at my seat with a viselike grip.
“How would you like to drive!?” She snarled back at me, the pressure of having an attack helicopter on our ass abrading her patience.
Regardless, she jerked the wheel back and forth to send us into a serpentine zigzag to confuse the bloodthirsty pilot’s aim. She was smart about it as well, never trying the same pattern more than once. I desperately wanted to be more than a helpless passenger, but my Five seveN wasn’t rated for disposing of choppers, even if I could make the shot at the cockpit. The Little Bird pilot was persistent though, even launching unguided missiles at us that we were fortunate enough to skirt around the splashes of, the waves battering us like a ruby ducky in the bathtub of a rambunctious two year old. The river was amply broad by now that the cargo ships chugging along it could pass each other abreast with the narrowest amounts of space separating them. Faith seemed to have the same idea forming in my head as she spun the wheel and put us in line with passing ships.
The chopper on our tail had to pull up and swerve to the side to avoid crashing into the navigation bridge of the rightmost cargo ship. The cargo ship on the left’s steersman must have been spooked by the sudden appearance of the chopper, as the medium sized vessel began to veer into its counterpart. The metal buckled as the bow of the massive ship smashed into the stern of the other, a horrific groaning noise grated at our ears as the vessels collided. Multiple containers had been displaced from the violent sideswipe, their fastenings snapping from the shearing stress, but thankfully those splashed over the side we weren’t speeding through. I was worried that the Little Bird would be laying in wait at the other end, but he must have pulled back to avoid causing any more collateral damage.
“They must really want us dead!” I remarked as we emerged from the channel betwixt ships.
“No kidding!” Faith agreed, “We obtain some footage of this maniac and post it online and people will have another reason to despise the Feds!”
Before long, the Little Bird was on us again and spewing away with its guns whenever its pilot had the opportunity. Faith appeared to have a general idea of where she wanted to go, steering us into busy shipping lanes where it was too risky for the chopper pilot to fire upon us and flanking smaller ships when it wasn’t. By some miracle, the Feds hadn’t organized a response on the water beyond the whirlybird of doom, otherwise this experience would have been even more nerve racking. We were running low on room though, and we coming up on a waterlogged tunnel burrowing underneath an urbanized landmass leading to the open ocean. The pilot in the attack chopper anticipated our plans and sped ahead, blocking the entrance as his miniguns began to spin menacingly. We were only two hundred meters out and rapidly closing the gap.
“In the rear seat is a long, dark green metallic case” Faith described urgently, “I want you to remove what’s inside and take careful aim with it”
I obeyed and unlatched the case, my eyes widening once I saw that there was an AT4 rocket launcher. I lifted it out of its container and hefted it in my hands. I pulled out the transport safety pin, unsnapped the shoulder stop, adjusted the iron sights, and cocked the launcher. I steadied myself as best I could with the boat rocking up and down on the water and aimed at the enemy Little Bird. The pilot made the job easy by hovering in place while zeroing in on us. Once I was certain of my aim, I held down the safety and pressed the trigger button. The rocket zoomed out of the tube and left behind practically no recoil. The missile impacted the pesky chopper laterally, the force of the explosion sending it careening into the cranes of a nearby dry dock, where the tail section broke off before the bubble canopy struck the main support beams and wrecked itself there in a twisted jumble of metal, fire, and smoke.
“Nice shot!” Faith congratulated me, her voice as relieved as it got from a harrowing attack heli chase.
With the obstacle no longer a risk to us, Faith maneuvered us into the tunnel, sheltering us from further danger. The tunnel was pitch black, with the only illumination being provided by the boat’s lights. She eased off on the throttle about halfway through until we came to a stop. Ignoring my questioning gaze, she relieved me of the AT4 and commenced with drumming it against the metallic handrails lining the edges of the boat in a what was ostensibly a random clanging, until I listened closer and discerned a pattern. It was a signal in Morse code. Though the code was of an abbreviated term, the meaning of which eluded me at the moment. When she was satisfied she returned the launcher to its case and sat back in her seat with a heaving sigh.
“I’m curious” She began, “If I hadn’t helped you abscond from that building, how would you have escaped the wrath of the Feds? Even you wouldn’t be so rash as to fight your way out of the building with their whole army bearing down on you”
“I would have resorted to stealth” I patted the pack on my back, “A.I.M would have selectively shut off all the power and engendered a blackout, effectively veiling the city in darkness. I would have used the elevator to backtrack, and the heartbeat sensor on my wrist mounted computer to bypass the patrols. The second option was having A.I.M remote pilot a hybrid manned-unmanned transport chopper to the building’s roof and use that. Though that would have meant contending with Federal air support… and we’ve both seen how crazy they are” She and I shared a laugh at that, it being too true.
“What was the Morse code for?” I motioned at the handrail she had been tapping.
“You’ll see” She smiled mysteriously.
As if on cue, the dark, murky waters beside our boat gradually became illuminated as a submersible craft breached the surface. The vehicle was flattish for the most part, save for three, streamlined bubble canopies dotting the main body. There were viewports on the sides that ensured full degrees of visibility. It had searchlights mounted on the front and rear frame to penetrate the overwhelming darkness of the late night waters. The sub was painted an ugly mustard yellow and as a hatch flipped open, I could hear apt Beatle’s music piping from inside reminding us of just that quality. An older man with graying hair wearing a captain’s hat and smoking from a pipe with a crab insignia embossed onto the wood waved to us as he poked his head through the aperture.
“Howdy” He greeted us in a slight Dixie accent, “You two called for an underwater taxi?”
“Taxi?” I slumped my shoulders dramatically, “I left my wallet in my other jumpsuit” I looked at Faith and waggled my eyebrows, “Far be it from me to request a lady to foot the bill but…”
Faith in turn stared hopelessly at the older man, “Ignore this joker, Denton. He successfully infiltrates the Fed’s most vital building in this city, broadcasts a rousing call to action for the citizenry, and then he thinks the world of himself after blasting an attack helicopter to smithereens”
Denton grinned, flashing us his poorly maintained teeth, “Is that so? Then I’d say he has sufficient reason to feel like a million bucks. Now’s not the time for chitchat though. The Feds on the radio frequency are in total disarray, though they’re still coordinated enough that they’re huntin’ for ya” He gestured for us to climb aboard, “C’mon. We can wait out their manhunt underwater until it’s time to get you two lovebirds home safe and sound”
Faith was aghast at the implication, “We’re not dating! Hell, other than a few meet and swaps and tonight’s excitement, I barely know the guy!”
The old man wasn’t buying it, perhaps noting the evident complementing chemistry between us, “You’ll be spending a fair amount of time with me until the heat blows over” Denton said, puffing smoke through his nostrils, “And there’s nothing like some classic rock for young folks to bond over” He fished a media device out of his pocket and tapped the screen. The music then changed tracks to ‘Something’ sung by George Harrison, the smooth baseline grooving in the sub’s interior.
I stifled a chortle as Faith’s face lit up like a Christmas tree with only red lights strung about it, the chortle fully leaving my lips as she glared balefully at me.
“Okay, that’s ample ribbing for tonight” I spoke, as Faith pouted and muttered a word that sounded suspiciously like ‘Men’, “We should ditch the craft in a way that the Feds won’t suspect trickery”
“They know you were last seen entering this tunnel” Denton apprised us, “They’re waitin’ for you to make a reappearance, and as soon as ya do… kaboom. I’d recommend only givin’ them the boat to blow sky high. If you’re lucky, they’ll presume ya dead and call off the hunt”
“Got any dummies stowed away in there?” Faith flicked a finger at the sub, “Would be partially credible at first glance, if they restrained themselves from erasing us forthwith so they could snap a picture to put in the funny papers”
“Only one dummy, I fear” Denton exhaled sadly, “And he’s kinda indispensable, ‘less you folks prefer to sink and swim”
“I think I shall pass on that most generous offer” I quipped in monotone, before sweeping a hand toward the sub to Faith, “Ladies first”
She rolled her eyes as she obliged, with Denton ducking down to make room for her. I propped the steering wheel in place and pushed the accelerator to maximum throttle. I hopped onto the deck before I had to doggy paddle to the submersible, closing the hatch behind me as Denton operated the controls and we dived to a depth of fifty feet. The quarters of the submersible weren’t terribly small, though with three people jammed inside of it like a sardine can, personal space was at an all time low. The instruments measuring underwater acoustics picked up on an explosion ahead of us as we chugged slowly down the tunnel, which we confirmed as the Feds taking the bait on the other end. Only time would tell if they truly considered us eliminated, but for now it looked like we were in the clear. It was then that Denton produced a bottle of Port wine from somewhere along with three diminutive wine glasses. He poured into all three of them by knuckling the stems of the glasses in his left hand while he poured with his right.
“How’s about a toast to our success?” He proposed distributing the glasses among us, “It’s not everyday that the resistance strikes a debilitatin’ blow to the regime, as y’all well know”
“I’ll drink to that” I agreed wholeheartedly, lifting the glass in the air as vertically as I was allowed to in the cramped interior of the sub, “To the Free Runners! Long may we prosper” I finished the wine in a single gulp, relishing the sweet, fortified flavor.
“Hear! Hear!” Denton bellowed, before remembering that the Feds might be listening and lowered his voice, “To kickin’ ass, takin’ names, and stickin’ it to the man” He whispered, and went bottom’s up with his glass.
Faith shrugged, “To drinking” She forwent the toast speech, taking ladylike sips. She kind of killed the celebratory mood by doing so, but we were alive, we had won a victory against our repressive government, and my faith in the future had been renewed.
⁂
“-enith? C’mon, wake up. The time for catchin’ Z’s is over” Applejack’s twangy voice, paired with her rough, uncouth nudges, roused me from my slumber.
My brain hadn’t quite caught up to my body though, and words passed through my lips unbidden. I bolted straight up in the bunk, “I read them for the articles, I swear!” I exclaimed, a cold line of sweat beading down the nape of my neck.
I then proceeded to give my face a good thwack with the palm of my hand, in part to punish myself for being stupid and partly to shake off the residual drowsiness. AJ shuffled nervously in place beside me, too nonplussed to make any sense of that.
“Errm…” AJ’s lovely green eyes flicked back and forth in bemusement, “… right, I’m sure you do. Anyhow, we’re back home”
“We are?” I muttered dumbly, my brain still in the painfully slow process of rebooting.
“We jus’ pulled in not two minutes ago” She informed me, “You’re a real heavy sleeper if the sound of the brakes screechin’ to a halt did nothin’ for ya”
“I once dozed through a four pointer on the Richter scale” I told the cowgirl, “Objects were scattered onto the floor and folks afraid of quakes were shivering in their skins, yet I slept soundly through it” I woke up and discovered that I was no longer in my bed, but that’s what I get for sleeping on the edge.
“Y’all had ground quakes where ya came from?” Applejack inquired, looking at me in curiosity.
“Are they not a common occurrence in this world?” I asked in return by way of answer.
She shook her head, “Not that I know of. Though I’ve heard from Twilight that the volcanic areas somewhere beyond the badlands to the southwest where the Dragons sometimes migrate to are sei-… seis-” She struggled with the word, furrowing her brow in frustration.
“Seismically active?” I filled in for her.
She stamped her boot on the floor. “That’s it! Seismically active” She stood tall and looked proud of herself, as if she had figured out the word on her own and considered it a personal achievement, “Though Heavens know why that is”
“Likely because of the volcanoes” I surmised, “Magma flow and pressure changes combine to sporadically produce ground tremors that can be felt. They aren’t very substantial though and rarely felt unless it’s a major shift in plate tectonics, which I offhandedly don’t think operate here the same as they do in my home-world, otherwise the Dragons wouldn’t choose it as a migration worthy spot”
“I forget that you and Twilight received a formal education” Applejack commented, “Ya can be pretty smart about things I’ve never heard about”
“Meh” I summed up my feelings towards the many years I expended on schooling, “Book Smarts and Street Smarts are equally desirable, and you have abundant reserves of the latter, I believe. Which is why I’m glad that you going to be with me when we head south”
“A’hm pleased that you think so highly of me, Zenith” She smiled, a faint reddening appearing on her cheeks before she cleared her throat and looked elsewhere, “I’ll be gatherin’ mah belongins’. Meetcha outside” Without waiting for a response from me, she promptly exited the room to fetch her luggage.
My head plopped back onto the pillow with a dull thud. My mental processes were consumed with thoughts concerning the absurdly vivid dream that I wasn’t sure was really a product of my imagination. It was so familiar too… like I had experienced it sometime before, though with a lesser degree of self-awareness. A memory materialized in my head of Discord warning me that crafting my newfound weapon using my own magic as raw material would have the side effect of affecting my dreams. It was evident that the man was not kidding. But I was having serious doubts about what I had experienced being solely a fanciful dream. It was too visceral… too emotionally provocative… and those conflicting thoughts and feelings. It was like I was sharing a body with somebody else, and neither of us were completely in control nor cut off from influencing the other’s actions. I would have to pick Luna’s brains about this sometime later, figure out how deep this rabbit hole went.
I swung my legs over the side of the bunk and my feet touched down on the floor. I retrieved my invaluable, expanded storage adventure pack and strapped it over my shoulders. I exited the cabin where the bunks were and to the door where the metal steps led down to the platform. My breath was vaporous in the crisp winter air. The sunshine hit my face and I felt reenergized by its warmth, as if its handler was bequeathing her strength to me herself.
People native to the town of Magiville were in the midst of unloading their luggage as they debarked from the passenger cars. Presently they were being greeted by loved ones who had skipped out on the games to manage responsibilities at home, or were waiting to be picked up by transport coaches that would drop them off at their homes if they went together. With all the hubbub and activity, scarce few of them recognized me from my outfit, and those that did bowed their heads respectfully to me and left me to my own devices. I could see in their eyes that they knew I was more than I initially appeared, and some ingrained sense of reverence for their rulers was extended to me. Though whether it was as one of their Agents or as another Trifect as many in the Press speculated was difficult to discern.
Since it was December, the climate was chilly as was scheduled, with ornate flakes of snow occasionally drifting down from the clouds above. The local weather team guaranteed that the conditions didn’t require the roads to shoveled or snowplowed, resulting in interesting looking formations lining the skies over the town. The physical wrangling of the weather would always be something uniquely alien in my book, though the sheer list of benefits that meant could not be understated. A brief wintertime of a month was mandatory for the magic in the soils to rejuvenate, ensuring the optimal growth of crops for the rest of the year. Since it was only a month and fairly mild in intensity, winter here had that magical charm in the heartland that was romanticized in the Christmas Carols. Agrarian settlements to the south that had a lack of Skyborn to tend the weather had to forgo winter seasons, though with all of the copious quantities of space with which to expand with on that frontier, building mega farms and orchards offset the decrease in marketable crops. It was incredibly probable that Miss Jubilee’s orchard dwarfed Sweet Apple Acres in terms of acreage if it was the premiere supplier of cherries in all of Arcania.
Applejack saw me standing there reflecting on all of this and trudged over with all kinds of bags and cases slung over her body, “Ya ready to head out, Zenith?”
“Ready when you are” I nodded in affirmation, “We’re just stopping at Sweet Apple Acres for you to deposit your bags, yes?”
“Eeyup!” She adjusted the weight of those bags on her shoulders, “Then it’s back here for the train’s next departure for Dodge Junction” She squinted her eyes around, searching for a coach to relieve her of her burden, “But first we gotta hail a…”
I intervened, wrapping an arm over her, “Hold on tight to your things, if they aren’t in physical contact with you, they’ll be left behind… and I don’t want to backtrack any more than I have to”
Before Applejack could form a response, I channeled magic from my internal font and commanded it to convey us from the station platform to the front of the farmhouse that Applejack called. The world flashed and warped around us as the spell was released. When being the person to initiate a teleport, the sensation of your guts being scrambled is absent… or mitigated to the point where it cannot be perceived without effort. In no time at all, we were firmly in the center of the Sweet Apple Acre’s farmhouse, a faint dust cloud being kicked up from our instant displacement. Activity at the orchard was virtually nil, which was to be expected since the town was in the clutches of winter. No snow covered the trees of the Acres itself, with the Apple family’s property being safeguarded from frost by the Skyborn.
Applejack grunted, holding a hand to her stomach and swaying queasily, “A little warnin’ would’ve been nice” She reproached me, bending over a tad to recover.
Yeah I knew how that felt, “Sincerest apologies, AJ. Allow me to bear the yoke of that baggage with you”
“I got it!” Applejack protested, turning my help down, “Don’t let me trouble you none. You’re an honored guest here, and that means you don’t hafta pull any of mah weight so long as you are. Since you were so kind as to bring us here right away, I guess you’ll have time enough to say hello to mah brother” She encouraged me to socialized with one of the few people here who shared my propensity for reticence. The poor guy had to mind the farm and his aging grandmother while most everybody else got to go to the Athletic Games, not that he’d wear his disappointment on his face if he felt any.
“Sure, I’ll say hi to the big man” I agreed as we walked up to the house, having nothing better to do during the layover.
Granny Smith was napping on the porch in her rocking chair, wrapped up like a burrito in several layers of apple theme quilts and blankets. The family dog Winona was likewise resting by her feet, her ears twitched and her head perked up when she spotted us, but she did not bark her excitement. Applejack and I tiptoed past her as quietly as we could as light snores emanated from her lips, with me scratching the friendly pet behind her ears by way of greeting. The interior of the barnlike farmhouse was cozy, retaining commendable insulation despite being constructed of regular lumber. Applejack deposited a few of her bags filled with groceries from the Krystal Kingdom and climbed the stairs to put away the rest in her room. I relocated to the kitchen area where I found the man of the house halfway done with eating his lunch, which consisted of slices of apples, country fried steak, and mashed potatoes.
Macintosh noticed my entry with one eye and swallowed a bite of steak before speaking in his succinct manner, “Afternoon”
“Macintosh” I reciprocated, sitting down at the table with him.
“You and the girls back from the North?” He inquired, stabbing at another chunk of fried steak and chomping at it, flecks of breading falling from his lips and dotting the table surface.
“Just myself and your sister” I answered, “The older one, anyway”
He hummed thoughtfully and went back to eating. His eyes widened minutely as if he had forgotten his manners, he pointed with a fork to the stocked pantry (eighty five percent of which was apple based vittles), “Fancy gettin’ yerself a bite?”
I wasn’t hungry, so I had to decline, “Considerate of you, but I wouldn’t want to infringe upon your hospitality”
He hummed a second time, “Not to be nosy, but why have only you and mah sis returned to Magiville?” It wasn’t an outright accusation, but I could sense that the man suspected chicanery.
“That… is sumthin’ I need to discuss with you” Applejack’s voice interjected from the archway, “Mac. Zenith and I are leavin’ again in twenty or so minutes”
Big Mac processed this, “Where?” He tersely continued his questioning.
“Dodge Junction” AJ replied, “And once we’re there, we’re gonna pay cousin Braeburn a visit”
Mac’s eyebrows lifted imperceptibly, “Braeburn? When did he move to Dodge Junction?”
“He didn’t” I took over, “He’s there on account of somebody else. Somebody of great importance to the Buffalo Braves”
“Explain” He rumbled.
I did so, “You cousin had eloped with the daughter of the Buffalo Brave’s Chieftain. The Princess has entrusted us with restoring her to her people. Tensions between the settle folk and the Braves are in jeopardy of igniting like they nearly did before”
Mac put down his fork and gave us his undivided attention, “Why?”
“Their people are being killed and kidnapped by men the Braves are mistaking for Arcanians” I hesitated, “And if they are… then they’re outlaws… and I have to bring them to justice” It will be a violent affair, if my record proved consistent, I refused to add.
Mac kept his face neutral, “Alright. What does mah sister have to do with this unpleasant business?”
“Zenith hasn’t been to the southern regions, Mac” AJ piped in, “He’ll need me in case he gets lost there”
“Can’t he jus’ hire a guide? He’s in with the Princesses, ain’t he?” The burly man actually sounded worried. My mentioning that these Braves were being savagely slain by outlaws must have had his protective Big Brother routines working overtime.
“I’m goin’ with him and that’s final, Macintosh!” She used his whole name, making him wince, “A’hm a grown woman now, brother. I can make mah own decisions… been makin’ ‘em for a while now”
Mac sighed in defeat, “I’ve never tried stoppin’ you before, an’ I won’t start now. You, on the other hand, should start guidin’ him by fixin’ his attire. He’ll stick out like a sore thumb if he dresses like that” He pointed above with an index finger, “He’s about mah size, so he can borrow from mah wardrobe. I never wear half of that stuff anyhow”
“Ya got a point there. We’re mighty grateful, Big Brother” AJ tipped her hat before grabbing me by the arm and yanking me out of my seat, “C’mon. It’s time for you to play dress-up”
“I’ve played that game with Rarity on more occasions than I can count” I idly commented as I was dragged out of the kitchen, not failing to catch the amused curl on Mac’s lips.
Our shoes clattered up the deteriorating stairs until we were on the second floor. AJ and I entered Big Mac’s simple yet neatly organized room, which only had a bed, a dresser, and a scant few other furnishings of low import. The cowgirl raided his wardrobe and threw all kinds of sundry and comfortable looking apparel that I wasn’t aware Mac even had onto the bedspread. The man himself was fond of his jeans and red checkered shirt combo, but what I saw laid out before me was a varied assortment of vests, dress shirts, hats, gloves, boots with removable spurs, frock coats, oilskin dusters, pants, jeans, chaps, and more.
Once she was done emptying his wardrobe closet, AJ politely left me to change in privacy, “Take yer pick, see whatcha like, and call me in once you’re set to get mah opinion on it”
As the door shut behind her, I stared in disguised awe at the number of clothes Big Macintosh never wore. Many of these clothes were in pristine condition. It was as if on the day he received them he simply consigned them to the closet till he was forced to wear them. Taking my time, I deliberated on how I wanted to be perceived once I was boots on the ground in the southern regions. ‘Clothes are just as much a part of your first impression as your manners, darling’ had been Rarity’s thoughts on the subject, which I had to mostly agree with. It was superficial nonsense to me, but I knew that people on average appraised the whole package rather than singular details. That being said, I wanted my outfit to match my personality while still having a Wild West aura to it. I set my adventure pack onto the floor and stripped off my robes, reverentially folding them up (while employing extra precaution with the handling of the Mage-blade shards tucked within) and stowing them in the pack for another occasion, along with the belt with the infinite triangle symbol on it and all its accoutrements. I kept my sword hilt on me though, since it was my badge of authority.
My decided combination of clothing were black jeans, a long sleeved beige shirt that I rolled up till it went no further than the elbows, a shortened denim vest to cover that with, my robe boots with ten pointed roweled spurs attached to the heel, black deerskin gloves, a dark oilskin duster with plenty of pockets that would conceal my gun belt, and a black Stetson hat of leather material with a metal band hugging the crown, which had a teardrop shaped crease on the top and white trim on the brim. It was the tiniest bit loose on me, but it was made for an owner that had a greater bulk.
“Okay, AJ” I announced toward the door when I was done evaluating my appearance in the dresser mirror, “Can you tell me if I look the part?”
The door squeaked on its hinges as Applejack opened it, “Well I’ll be… Don’t you look fine an’ dandy!” AJ exclaimed, eyes prowling up and down my form and approving of the aesthetic changes. Her gaze lingered on the belt with confusion, but dismissed it in favor of everything else.
“I certainly feel like I could go toe to toe with Angel Eyes and come out on top” I remarked, my image in the mirror fitting the profile of a darkly dressed, bounty hunting cowboy.
The name reference didn’t register with her, “Who?”
I shook my head, “Just something from a famous movie I saw once”
“If you say so” She had grown accustomed to these allusions of mine, “I ought to bring some spare clothes mahself. We’re liable to be out there for a while, huh?”
“As long as it takes to guarantee that the Buffalo Braves and the frontiersmen don’t butt heads” And that could mean anything from a week to a month, depending on how quickly I could hunt down these outlaws and disrupt their operation, as well as ascertain what they were doing with the people they had kidnapped, if they were still alive, and reunite them with their kin.
“And fetchin’ Strongheart so she can marry somebody she dislikes is goin’ to prevent that?” AJ expressed reasonable doubts with that plan, albeit she was automatically biased against her for her infatuation with her cousin.
“We can only hope and pray it does” Or find another way to curb the bloodshed. Perhaps if I hogtied members of the outlaws and gave them to the Buffalo Braves to do justice on… but that would present its own problems.
“A’hm sure it’ll work out for the best” Applejack optimistically spouted, “Pack what else you need. I’ll do the same” She retreated to her room and I heard the sound of a traveling bag being unlatched and items being interchanged.
I glanced at the rest of the clothes splayed out on the bed. There weren’t any other articles worth hauling with me, so the outfit I was wearing now would have to suffice. I politely replaced the clothes in Big Mac’s wardrobe so that he wouldn’t have to clean up the mess his sister made of it himself. As I was doing so, I noticed a dense book squared away in the closet, tucked beneath boxes stuffed with various objects which may have been broken or replacement pieces of farming equipment. I ironed the wrinkles out of a shirt using a spell that Rarity taught me and hung it on the rack before I stooped down to pick it up. It had been sitting there long enough to have accumulated a thick coating of dust on the cover, which I proceeded to wipe with my forearm. I ambled out of the closet and sat down on Mac’s bed with the book in hand. My curiosity was piqued and I still had minutes to spare before we had to leave for the train.
My fingers pinched at the rim of the cover as I flipped it wide. The book was some kind of picture album married with a scrapbook. It depicted the story of Big Macintosh’s life growing up on the Acres with his grandmother and his parents, starting with his toddler years with notes about how cute he was on the side written in what I presumed was his mother’s hand. His father incorporated notes as well, assuring him that he would grow to be big and strong someday, like his old man. There were pictures of a young Macintosh learning the tools of the trade, his achievements and blunders equally included in the album. Mac started writing notes himself once he had learned how, remarking on how great it was that he was getting a sister. With it in his possession, Big Macintosh must have been the designated keeper of this book. The years melted before my eyes as I sifted through pages and pages of memories.
Applejack followed her older brother’s example, cultivating and harvesting apples alongside her family as she gradually became the woman that she was currently. She learned the nitty gritty nuances about farming from her pa while her mother taught her how to optimally pitch it to prospective customers that Sweet Apple Acres grew the most delectable, juicy apples in the county. She even affixed her first lock of golden hair to one of the pages; proud of the way she had braided it. She’d never hear this from me, but Applejack made an exceptionally adorable infant, and that cuteness carried on all throughout her childhood… until it was marred by the tragedy that claimed both her parent’s lives before their time. Neither Applejack nor the then scrawny Macintosh smiled as much after that, though I saw signs of that happiness returning to them, as their mother left with one last gift in the form of Apple bloom. The book ended with multiple blank pages waiting to be filled in by the young girl as she experienced her own life, as was her birthright.
There was a knock on the wall as Applejack reappeared by the doorway, “Whatcha reading there, Zenith?”
I looked at her strangely, “You don’t remember? This book contains memories of when you, Mac, and Apple bloom were in your adolescence”
“That ol’ thing?” Applejack was indifferent towards it, “It’s jus’ a bygone family tradition of ours. Someday Big Mac will show it to Apple Bloom when she’s ready to learn more about our parents”
“Why hasn’t she learned yet?” I posed a difficult inquiry, “They’re her parents! She has a right to ask about them doesn’t she?”
“What makes you think she has?” She countered, an odd inflection tinting her words, “If my little sister had asked it of me, I would have sat her down all day to relate to her how wonderful our parents were. I would have done everythin’ I could to give her an idea of what they both were like, since she was too young to remember them” AJ’s posture sagged, “But she’s never asked… not once. It’s almost like she doesn’t care”
“Maybe she’s afraid to ask” I retorted, “Maybe its because whenever the topic involuntarily comes up, she witnesses how internally withdrawn everyone else gets. It wouldn’t take a great deal for her to see the notion of her parents as a forbidden subject. One of these days, you’re going to have to have a serious discussion with her about them”
She exhaled and scratched at the back of her head, “You assume an awful lot, Zenith, but in this case ya happen to be right. Whenever ma and pa are brought up in conversation, we become ‘sad sacks’ as Pinkie Pie would put it. I do what I can to suppress it, but Apple bloom knows that it’s a sore spot for us. I was so afraid that if she learned about what happened to our parents, she’d lose the happiness that she found for herself without them, but I can’t keep her in the dark forever” She planted a hammer fist into her palm, “I promise that one day Mac, Granny, and I will take turns explaining to mah sister that we were blessed with the most incredible parents… who loved her with everythin’ they were, even if she didn’t know it”
I placed the book on the nightstand next to Mac’s bed, so he could see it, “Forgive me for prying in such intimate matters. It didn’t concern me”
“No, no!” She held up her hand forbearingly, “Don’t say yer sorry. You had an appropriate reason… and it took you pointing it out to me to get past my own misgivings towards it. Mah family means the world to me… and if sumthin’s amiss with it, it’s mah duty to fix it!”
“Your devotion to your own blood is admirable” I complimented her. Though her inability to accept that her cousin might be in love with a woman of the Buffalo Braves lessens that somewhat.
“You betcha it is!” She chirped enthusiastically, “I told ya that the Apple family is connected close as the fruits we’re named after on their branches. You should be there for our next reunion. We’ll show ya the joy of being part of sumthin’ more profound that one person! You wish you were an Apple yousel-…” She saw my passive expression and was worried that she had crossed a line, “oh… shoot, Zenith I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s alright, Applejack” I effected a pained smile for her, “It doesn’t hurt anymore” I was family oriented in the same way that the cowgirl was, which made it easier for me, “We should be prepared to depart for the station soon. Did you say your goodbyes to your brother and grandmother?”
“I did to mah brother” She affirmed, “Though granny is still asleep, so I jus’ kissed her forehead and whispered mah farewells to her”
“Excellent” I rubbed my hands together impatiently and magicked my pack over to me, “All that remains is for you to hold on tight to your baggag-”
Applejack interrupted me before I could get to the end of that sentence, “Can we walk this time? I don’t think mah stomach can go through another round of torture”
I scoffed, “Being unexpectedly teleported by another person isn’t that jarring” I acquiesced though, “But… if you insist”
The walk back to the train station was uneventful, and given how eventful my life could be at times, I found myself welcoming commonplace occurrences more often. Mayhaps I was subconsciously seeking a balance between extraordinary and mundane. The sandy gravel of the Acres transitioned to snow that crunched beneath our shoes with the weight of our steps, with Applejack’s footfalls eliciting louder crunches than mine as we plodded down the meandering trails (Though to be fair, as an Agrarian she was naturally heavier with all of the muscle she was sporting, while my feathery Valkyrian aspect negated the majority of my heft). The train at the station was near the final phases of refilling its coal car and taking on water for its boiler from two towering dispensers on stilts. Because Applejack was unyielding with her inclination for a stroll past Magiville, we barely made it in time for the conductor to bellow the last call for boarding. I deduced that he must have been briefed on our identities, since he personally bid the train’s driver to hold off on departing with us. The special treatment made me want to roll my eyes, but I wasn’t one to complain about blessings, as biased in favor of VIPs as they were.
Once we were inside the decadent train car reserved especially for us, the conductor signaled for the train’s operator to continue what he was doing before he restrained him. With a strident tweet of its whistle, the train pulled with a jerk from the station and we steamed along the track, our destination bound for the south. This time I stayed awake, partly out of anxiety that I would fall into a dream that wasn’t a dream if I slept, and partly because I wanted to enjoy the passing scenery from my seat by the window. The clothing tailored for Big Macintosh wasn’t quite as comfy as the robes designed for my by Rarity, but they guarded me against getting too accustomed to softness, lest I become soft myself, and we couldn’t have that. Applejack was virtually silent for the entire ride there, only occasionally speaking when asked whether she wanted a beverage from one of the train’s attendants or yawning and remarking how she could do with some shuteye. She napped peacefully while I availed myself of the train’s fine dining menu, all costs covered by the Crown of course. I attempted to pay for my fare regardless, but they would not take my coin.
The landscapes whizzing by the window as the train chugged on were stereotypical forests at first, the darkest and most forbidding of which was the Neverfree as was the norm, but after we bridged the gap over a flowing river and then the Ghastly Gorge, there was a dramatic shift in backdrops. Snow capped forests petered out and were replaced by rolling hills and grassy fields that were sporadically populated by tile roof houses with solitary farmers minding their paddocks and crops. That grass eventually withered away, as did the trappings of civilization and for a while there was nothing but open expanse. For the entirety of the journey there, my mind was preoccupied cogitating on what my course of action would be once I was on site at Miss Jubilee’s ranch. Would I apprehend Strongheart and her lover off the bat? Or should I observe them first, ensure that their love was genuine and not some excuse for Strongheart to run from an undesirable marriage partner? What if they had ignored Miss Jubilee’s coaxing and escaped again? Would I have to hunt them down like vermin, or would I have to resolve the hostilities without her as a bargaining chip?
By the time the train had slowed to a halt in the Dodge Junction train station, the trip had consumed another three hours of the day. The sun was sinking closer to the horizon and the world had an orange tint to similar to the color of the shirt that AJ was wearing. From the polished window of the train car, the town of Dodge Junction itself looked like a scene out of a desert frontier movie. Wooden buildings with awnings to shelter people from a glaring sun in the summer were hanging signs that displayed what goods they had to offer. Traffic was a mix of people on foot and horses pulling carts or bearing riders to where they needed to be. In the distance were wooden enclosures that fenced in herds of cattle of innumerable quantities. Ranching was apparently the order of the day in the town of Dodge Junction.
The environment was generally dusty, gritty, and dry… which came as no surprise. The climate reminded me greatly of the west coast where I used to live, and the apparent shortage of water to facilitate life in this arid region struck closer to home than I could have believed. Contrary to this initial impression, there were a number of active, anti-desiccation water wells scattered throughout the town. Tumbleweeds rolled in the breeze and cacti were the only greenish plants to be seen, with the rest being shriveled up bushes and twigs as dry as bones interspersed here and there. The town of Dodge Junction was roughly half the size of Magiville, and was erected on the flattest hides of land nestled between hillocks and stony ridges. The people living here were predominantly Agrarians, with each of them wearing fashionable to not so fashionable headwear to cover them up from the heat of the sun’s rays. The cowgirl was awake by now and staring out the window with an expression bordering on apprehension and emotional tension, with there being tough memories of a personal failure associated with this location.
“Nervous?” I inquired in what I hoped was a comforting tone.
“A’hm shakin’ like my sis whenever she lies about completin’ her homework” She confessed honestly, “I thought I would be over it by now, but just seein’ this place flashes me back to when I exiled mahself from Magiville for failin’ to bring home the blue ribbon and the prize money that went with it”
“Prize money?” I feigned ignorance.
“Some Skyborn gal who delivers the mail around Magiville managed to wreck the Town Hall’s roof once” She told me, unable to figure out how she accomplished this feat of destruction on her own, “There was a rodeo event bein’ hosted in Concordia that I was goin’ to anyway, and I promised to return home with the prize money necessary to repair it. Locally, I was a champ, but up there in the capital city? I was small fry competin’ with the big fishes”
Her teeth set in her jaw, “Mah skills weren’t up to snuff next to some of the professionals there. It was humiliatin’ for me. Enduring round after round only to receive second or third place ribbons and medals. I smiled as I stood to the lower side of the victor, but each occasion stung like a slap to the face”
“That’s hardly anything to be ashamed of” I started, but she wouldn’t have any of it.
“Second and third place didn’t cut it for me!” She snapped at me in frustration, “Whenever the opportunity to win money that I could donate to the town was presented, I screwed up bad at a critical point or underperformed”
“I’m sure the townsfolk of Magiville would have understood. You can’t be the one to win them all” I reassured her.
“Back then, I wouldn’t have accepted that answer” She was morose, “I was so ashamed of mahself that I took a job offer to raise money for the repairs while avoidin’ the people at home from a woman that I befriended while I was at the Concordian rodeo, the same woman we’re paying a visit to today”
People were disembarking from the train and I knew that we couldn’t stay there in the luxury car all afternoon, “Your story is going to have to be put on hold for now. We should get a move on towards the ranch”
We gathered our stuff before we stepped off from the train platform and onto the sand. There were fewer people piling out of the train than there were at Magiville, but this location was geographically out of the way compared to idyllic Magiville. As I examined our surroundings, I took note of the cargo being loaded in the back of the train where the cargo cars were. Men sweating in the sun struggled and heaved up sizable wooden crates from their transport carts with logos on the panels reading ‘Flim & Flam’s Magically enhanced fertilizers!’ in lurid yellow and red lettering. One of the men let out a yelp as a crate tumbled from his grasp and fell on the sandy dirt with a heavy thud and metallic clattering within the crate that didn’t sound right. His supervisor, stating that their bosses wanted these crates handled with the utmost of care, immediately chewed the man out for his foolishness. I filed this in the mental cabinet for later scrutiny as I focused on the task at hand.
“So we’re finally here” I announced to myself, my mental objectives kicking into gear, “Show me where Miss Jubilee’s Cherry Orchard is if you would please, Applejack”
“Sure” Applejack listlessly replied, waving down a coach, “Howdy there, pardner. Mind dropping us off at Cherry Hill Ranch?” She flashed the driver a few bits to persuade him to take us on.
“Nah, I don’t mind” He swapped bits with her, “You got business there?”
This man was nosy, in my opinion, but I dismissed it as idle curiosity, “Something like that” I spoke up, flanking Applejack, “My friend here is close acquaintances with the owner and boss, Miss Jubilee. She believes that it’s been a while since she’s spoken with her and wants to remain in touch. Letters can be so impersonal though, and my friend is of modest means and therefore cannot employ the services of bottled dragon fire to send any messages expeditiously even if she wanted to. So being the wondrous gal she is, she’s calling on her in person. I’m just here to see her there safely”
The driver was not unnerved by any hidden implications at the end of my longwinded speech, “Is that so? I thought she seemed kinda familiar” He gestured for us to come aboard.
Our baggage was insignificant, so we carried it onto the carriage before settling into the stiff, cracked leather seats that were in dire need of dusting. Once we were in our seats, the driver uttered a ‘hee yah!’ and whipped the reins, urging the two horses pulling the coach to get us underway. Since Jubilee’s ranch was situated on one of the few grassy hills in the area, we were several minutes out.
“You ought’a adopt the local accent, Zenith” She whispered to me, “Your outer appearance blends right in, but as soon as you talk, people will know that you’re from outta town. It’s a wise practice”
I sneered at her, “I’m never losing my accent-less accent, AJ” I laid back in the chair to get comfy, “So you were telling me about working under Miss Jubilee?”
She grumbled unintelligibly at my scorning of her advice, but relented, “It weren’t much different than harvestin’ apples, really, jus’ a mite tinier and more numerous. Pluckin’ those suckers could take a whole workday and you would never even clear a couple rows of trees. Miss Jubilee’s ranch hadn’t incorporated any kind of complex machinery, so I would often have to give this gigantic wheel a whirl to power a conveyer belt that her workers would use to sort out the individual cherries accordin’ to their color; yellow cherries in a yellow bin, red cherries in a red bin, and rotten cherries in a disposal bin. Miss Cherry Jubilee was a fair boss, as far as ranch bosses went. She provided room and board, and she paid me twenty bits an hour with bonuses if I exceeded my daily quota. I would only have to wait a week or so before I had the funds to recover from mah disgrace and return to Magiville with my head held high… but it was not to be”
“What happened next?” I droned, already having a crisp idea.
“Mah friends followed me, is what happened” She appeared annoyed at the memory before her expression softened, “Mah family had acquired my letter tellin’ ‘em that I wouldn’t be back home for a while, and mah friends must’ve gotten scared when they read it. They tracked me down be retracin’ my steps, gradually bein’ pointed in mah direction from there”
She sniffed, “I was exitin’ an outhouse when they found me. They questioned me, chastised me for disappearin’ on ‘em, and pleaded with me to come back with ‘em, but I was in no mood to see ‘em, let alone listen to what they had to say. I brusquely told ‘em to leave off and tell mah family that I was doin’ fine”
“Knowing your… our friends, it doesn’t seem likely that they would give up” I remarked.
“No… they didn’t” She agreed, “I came by work the next mornin’ to find ‘em sortin’ cheeries on the conveyer belt. Why didn’t they listen to me? I asked mahself. Why couldn’t they jus’ go home and leave me to wallow in mah repentance?”
Her fists clenched together, “I don’t know why, but seein’ ‘em there roiled me up somethin’ fierce. I thought to mahself that maybe they were tauntin’ me somehow, maybe they knew about mah failures in the Concordian rodeo and were rubbin’ it in mah face. It was an awful thing to conceive of in retrospect. But mah head was so clouded with anger that the ridiculousness of that thought must not have registered with me. Did ya know that I was voted the most dependable person in Magiville once, after corrallin’ a stampede of cows? They even hosted a fancy ceremony for me and pulled all the stops for it”
She laughed mirthlessly, “That was close to the same time that I wrote a report to the Princess on how foolish it was to refuse a friend’s offer of aid out of some misplaced sense of stubborn arrogance. A’hm still guilty of causing half of Magiville food poisonin’ from the ‘Baked Bads incident’ as it was labeled” She shyly divulged, to which I bobbed my head and pretended like I had heard a juicy piece of gossip, which I myself learned to do by emulating Rarity, “I might have learned from that lesson well, but Dodge Junction was an instance where I forgot”
Her teeth grit, “They attempted to be subtle about their intentions there, statin’ innocently that they were workin’ for Miss Jubilee, jus’ like me. Then they broached the questions again. What did I see at the rodeo? How did I meet mah new boss? They were so incessant that I couldn’t help but sprint, wishin’ to escape all of it. All that ended up doin’ was creatin’ an ugly mess that mah friends had to clean with buckets of soapy water and mops… which I felt bad about”
Applejack chortled, “Mah friends must’ve have switched their tactics to avoid that occurin’ again. Over the week I encountered them individually or in pairs while workin’ mah rounds on the orchard. I did what I could to avoid ‘em and pretend like they weren’t there… but then they sicced Pinkie Pie on me” She groaned, “Ugh… she yammered on and on and on about chimmicherries and kumquats and pickle barrels. It was enough to make ya lose yer mind, I swear! I had to swear to her a Pinkie Promise that I would spill the beans on why I prolonged mah homecomin’ at breakfast the next day to get her off mah back”
“And did you keep that promise?” I narrowed my eyes at her, “Pinkie guards those fervently” And may the Lord have mercy on your soul should you have the gall to break one.
She exhaled tiredly, “I tried… I really did try to keep it. But the shame of havin’ to admit mah failure to somebody, even mah closest friends, was severe enough that I resolved to leave town and repeat what I was doin’ elsewhere on another ranch if they’d have me”
“They would’ve trailed you to the next place even if you made a clean getaway” I reasoned, “They would have followed you to the ends of the Earth if it meant having their friend Applejack back”
Her eyes watered up and she wiped at them with her sleeve, “I know. I’m so blessed to know ‘em. They’re family beyond family to me. Which is why if I could time travel to the point where I had risen earlier than the rooster to sneak out of mah bedroom window, I would have slammed it shut on past me’s fingers. Unfortunately, Twilight says that the time travel spells invented by Starswirl could only take a person so far in time and only for so long”
“Time travel isn’t all it’s cracked up to be” I opined to her, “You might have to fend off Chaos worshipping Acolytes, save a poisoned woman from dying by collecting rare ingredients for usage in her recovery and convalescence, tussle with an Ursa Major, defend a town against an air raid, slash your way out of an underground mountain passage chocked full of Grimworts, come upon a ruined town with only a single survivor shivering at the bottom of a well, hunt two mystical figures across an expansive valley, fight for your life in naught but your skin, interrogate someone for the location of their hidden base, convince somebody who wants to both kill you and shake your hand for outfoxing them to assault that hidden base, eviscerate a hydra from within its putrid stomach, climb a rocky spire of two toned rock, save the day from the villain, and walk amongst the stars as your destiny is mapped out for you”
“Errm… right” Applejack was perplexed by my oddly specific list, “It’s probably for the best that I stick to the present where I’m needed, huh? Gettin’ back to mah tale, I had snuck out of mah room and was waitin’ at the train station to get the heck outta Dodge when mah friends gave chase. Hoo wee! Can Pinkie Pie get scary when she’s mad. I ran like the wind and commandeered a stagecoach, with mah friends likewise in pursuit. It was a bumpy ride too… makes this feel like napping on a cloud in comparison” As if on cue, the carriage jolted into the air as one of the wheels struck a rock and the suspension absorbed the energy directly, “They managed to get alongside mah stagecoach and Pinkie jumped aboard to confront me over breakin’ mah promise… which I technically didn’t because I never met them at breakfast”
“Exploiting the loopholes of a carefully worded promise, Applejack?” I beamed at her as we were in the middle of an ascending climb, “You may have a distaste for cozening people, but there is hope for you yet”
“A’hm the virtuous Element of Honesty” Applejack reminded me strongly, “I was sick to mah stomach takin’ advantage of mah own words like that. I promised that I would tell ‘em the truth, and yet there I was runnin’ from ‘em like a craven coward”
“What obstacle blocked you from doing so?” I asked her.
“Mah pride, mah damned pride” She bemoaned her stubbornness, “I risked their lives by tryin’ to lose ‘em via a game of chicken involving an oncomin’ train. They only made it by the slimmest of margins, with the train clippin’ the back of their wagon. I comprehended then that mah selfishness had put mah friends in danger, so I yanked back on the reins and slid the coach to a halt. I took mah satchel and emptied it in front of ‘em, tears blindin’ mah eyes as the truth came forth from mah lips like water from a fountain. They reminded me that I didn’t need to win all the rodeos or collect all the prize money in the world to be worthy of ‘em, I was their friend from the start, and nothin’ would change that”
“And the money for Town Hall came from what source then?” The roof of that building was undamaged from what I saw.
She waggled a hand in the air, “The Mayor hosted some kind of fundraiser event that the whole of the town chipped in for. After relating the same story to the crowd as to why I had kept away from ‘em, they had given so quickly that there was a surplus of bits one hour into the event. There’s still a budget excess that the Mayor hasn’t decided what to do with yet”
“We’re coming up on Cherry Hill Ranch” The driver declared to us, and I tore my gaze from the cowgirl to see what I could of Miss Jubilee’s cherry orchard.
My educated guess about the ranch surpassing Sweet Apple Acres in size was not unfounded. Cherry trees were laden with fruit that ranged from growing to ripened and were lined up as far as the eye could see. The leaves on the cherry trees were very pretty shades of purples and pinks that were reminiscent of cherry blossoms, except that these trees actually sprouted fruit. There were workers hauling tubs brimming with cherries under each arm, the branches of the trees contributing to the level of shade and mitigating the dry heat factor common to most arid regions. Along the same vein, Cherry Hill Ranch was bizarrely verdant when compared to the town it was based in. Grass carpeted the ground by the cherry trees and didn’t seem to be gasping for hydration as far as I could tell. The Agrarian green thumb sure was special. Almost as if it could magically irrigate the land where seeds had been planted. The Cherry Ranch had to have been a fixture here for years though, which was ample time to tame the sandy soil and remake it into fertile loam.
As the driver took us through a natural corridor between aisles of cherry trees, buildings could be made out through the gaps in the trunks. Each was structured disparately and was clearly suited for a particular purpose that made the Cherry Ranch the number one supplier in the country. The structure with the chute for dumping the wooden baskets of cherries had to be the sorting center, while the building connected to it via a brick hallway had to be a packaging center. This was confirmed when I saw a horse drawn cart stacked with crates pull around the side and converge on the road we were cruising, its driver tipping his hat politely at us in passing. The building with smokestacks spewing a thin line of smog had to be where the cherries were converted into scrumptious pastries ready for consumption. There was a building in the midst of construction whose purpose was unknown to me, though judging from the cola like bottle insignia, it was in all likelihood going to be a juicing center. I whistled to myself in awe. Miss Jubilee had her own private industrial complex going on here. The concentration of trees dispersed in increments until we were inside of a broad clearing where a farmhouse styled like a lodge stood stoically, the dull colors of its exterior contrasting with the varicolored grounds.
Standing in the center of this clearing was a slightly plump woman in a yellow dress with a red corset fasted around her waist, engendering her bust to bolster itself. There was a cutaway in her dress and my farsighted eyes could discern that she was wearing nylon stockings to go with her heeled boots. There was a cherry themed hairband binding her rich, dual toned cerise and dark red hair. She was halfway through barking out orders for her workers to obey when she saw us in the peripherals of her vision. Showing a common courtesy unexpected in a business owner (mayhaps it was because she seemed like a hands on kind of entrepreneur), she waved at us and shouted her acknowledgements.
“Well hello there!” The owner and proprietor of the ranch greeted us in a refined southern accent. For reference, it was on the middle ground between AJ’s usual way of speaking and when she put her Steelhatten vocal lessons to use. The driver halted us just shy of the road on the grass dividing cherry tree and trodden gravel. We climbed down and the woman who had been giving instructions walked to meet us in person.
She half curtsied for us once she was within conversational range, “Welcome to my home and place of business. I’m Cherry Jubilee. How may I serve you this fine day?”
Miss Jubilee’s green eyes brightened as they spotted Applejack, “Why if it isn’t Magiville’s best come to see me again! It’s been far too long, my dear Applejack. Have you returned for another change of scenery? Hmm? Hmm?” She embraced the cowgirl, eliciting a faint blush on her cheeks from what I presumed was embarrassment from the way she phrased it.
Miss Jubilee’s vision shifted to me and I saw a spark in them that put me on edge, “And who might this tall, winsome feller be? Another hand to tend my orchard perhaps?” She batted her eyelashes thrice at me in swift succession before settling on a half lidded leer.
‘Oh God, please tell me that wasn’t an innuendo’ This southern belle of a woman was nearly the same (from a relative viewpoint) age as Crystal Clear! Objectively speaking however, Miss Jubilee was still quite the looker. Though it did beg the question of why this majorly successful businesswoman slash secret servant of the Crown was unmarried. And now I realized that I just answered my own question.
“You may call me Zenith, Ma’am” I said, civilly tipping my hat to her, “And we’re here on…” I reached into a pocket in my duster and pulled out the hilt to exhibit to her, “…official business. Specifically concerning some guests you may have taken in?” I hinted to the woman so precisely that I might as well have screamed their names.
Jubilee’s eyes scanned the symbol on the hilt with razor like sharpness and her flirty demeanor morphed ever so slightly, “Yes… I might know a thing or two about that” She twisted her neck behind herself and hollered for one of her supervisors to justify his income while she saw to her guests, “Let’s continue this discussion inside, shall we? Come, bring your things. You’ll have free reign in my home for as long as you require it”
We obliged and followed her inside her house. The interior of the lodge like building was like a scene out of a Bass Pro Shop. There were stuffed heads of animals including deer, bears, and buffalo hanging from the upper halves of the walls, staring down at us with something like suspicion mixed with distrust. Fluttershy would probably dislike this place for those unsavory decorating choices alone, but Applejack’s attention only lingered on them long enough for her to look away with a vaguely unsettled expression. I couldn’t help but wonder if Miss Jubilee had hunted and killed these animals herself to bring home as trophies, or if she purchased them from somebody who had. Tanned hides of animals were draped over the railed of the stairs and only added to outdoorsman feel to the place. The air smelled of scented wood and nature in general, threatening to send my mind hurtling into an imaginary locale by a roaring river rapid where bears were catching salmon migrating upstream in their jaws.
The spurs on my boots clinked with regularity, producing noise again with each step forward I took. Miss Jubilee led us through her spacious home and into an area that had to be a kitchen, despite the lack of floor tiles that would designate it as such. The kitchen wasn’t exquisitely designed, with only a swirly granite countertop exuding any aura of sophistication, but I never cared much for elegant kitchen design anyway. There was a lengthy mahogany table close to an unused fireplace whose surface was waxed so thoroughly that you could see your own reflection on it if you looked at it carefully enough and at the correct angles. There were expertly handcrafted Victorian dining chairs with emblems of cherries embroidered above the seam lines of the cushions that were rather inviting to sit down in. It was becomingly exceedingly obvious that Miss Jubilee was extremely well to do for herself, though what we saw only seemed to be representative of less than a fraction of the wealth she possessed. I wouldn’t claim that she was living modestly, by any means, but she wasn’t as nestled into the lap of luxury as she could have been if she had only wanted it.
“Have yourselves a seat” She bid us, swinging her cabinets wide in search of some item, “Would any of you two care for some tea?”
I retracted a chair from the table and sank my keister into the plush, upscale cushion, “Pearl Grey if you have it, please” I recalled how it was the first tea I had tasted since arriving in this world, and I was oddly yearning for its flavor.
“Of course, Sugar” Some her flirtatious inflections seeped into her voice, “How about you, dear Applejack. Fancy a spot of afternoon tea?”
“Kind of ya to offer, Miss Jubilee. But I think I’ll pass” Applejack forwent the teatime niceties.
“Suit yourself ” She idly hummed a blissful tune out loud to herself as she poured scalding water into cherry themed teacups (‘These fruit cultivating families wear their crops like coats of heraldry, I swear’) using a kettle that she kept heated over an open flame. Once the teabags were inserted and properly steeped, she claimed her position at the head of the table, which was understandable since she was the independent lady of the house.
She set the cups on the table and motioned for me to take mine. Not bothering to get up and assert my ownership of it, I laid hold of it with a levitation spell and floated it over to me. My hat concealed most of my forehead, so my lack of a Focal Gem didn’t draw any negative notice. I blew at the steaming liquid and stole some of its excess heat with a leeching spell. I sipped at the fluid and was pleased that it was firmly in the Goldilocks’ zone. I loved how useful magic was when it came to both life threatening and mundane scenarios.
Miss Jubilee got straight to business after her second sip, “Do you wish to know about the physical conditions of my guests?”
I swigged at my drink, “Any information would be appreciated, yes”
She nodded, “Mister Braeburn is doing well. His mental state of health has improved markedly since he and Miss Braveheart first showed up at my doorstep” She had herself another dram of tea, “They had taken shelter in my cherry tree groves when there was a nasty dust storm not so many days ago. One of my workers discovered them huddled together beneath a tattered blanket and saw fit to notify me first thing. I came out to them once they had awoken and persuaded them to live under my roof as guests. I assured them that it wouldn’t cost them a bit, but Braeburn insisted that he pay their way and proffered his services as an orchard hand himself. Unsurprisingly, he is not the greatest with cherries, but he is persistent enough that he meets his daily quota with extra”
Applejack hummed proudly, “Darn tootin’! No self respectin’ member of the Apple family lags behind when it’s time to wet their brow with sweat”
“That he certainly did, and is doing now, Applejack” She agreed, before tittering, “Oh I do hope that my ranch doesn’t become a fallback location for employment to your family. Much as I cherish the times we had together, undue excitement follows those connected with you. It’s in the early stages of becoming a trend, if I’m not mistaken” Applejack looked unsure how to respond to that.
I had emptied my teacup by then, “And what about Strongheart?”
“She taken to secluding herself in her room, preoccupying her mind with my personal collection of books” She had an admiring smile on her lips, “She has a ravenous hunger for knowledge about the world outside the plains her people call home, it’s quite charming”
We were off topic, “You’ve been briefed on what’s at stake, haven’t you? Strongheart is betrothed to a member of tribe who promotes aggressive policies regarding the string of kidnappings and killings affecting their people. A man who will doubtlessly see her disappearance as the work of the settlers and encourage his kinsmen to strike out at whom they perceive as the guilty party. This cannot be allowed to escalate into a full scale conflict, or it will end very badly for all those involved. Can I rely on you to assist me in doing what needs to be done, Miss Jubilee?” I stared at her with the unrestrained might of the stone face.
At that she hesitated, “I would love to assist you in any way I could, Agent Zenith” She was pensive, “But you need to know that the circumstances have become… more complicated than they were to begin with. Particularly in regards to this arranged marriage”
“How complicated are we talking here?” I inquired of her neutrally, planting my elbows on the table and steepling my fingers in contemplation.
Cherry Jubilee was sheepish about how to put it, looking anywhere but at us, doubly so avoiding eye contact with AJ, which did not bode well, “Hmm, you see… I only recently found out that the native girl… she’s…” She sighed and let the cat out of the bag, “She’s expecting”
The air in the already stuffy room stilled and the temperature rose a few degrees Celsius. I felt a mounting vibration under my elbows and instinctively knew whom it was emanating from. I cautiously crooked an eye to my side to survey the imminent catastrophe and need to effect damage control. I believe it was in that moment that Applejack surpassed her previous record of turning so red that she resembled her namesake fruit.
“Care to run that by me again?” I politely requested, game plans changing in my head in the blink of an eye to accommodate for this unsettling information.
“Miss Strongheart is pregnant” She repeated, “She’s three weeks in, if the diagnostic spell the town’s crackerjack Doc used is reliable, and I have it on good authority that it is. He’s been here since I was a girl. He makes his rounds, diagnoses maladies, and dispenses remedies that work like charms, so to speak” Her face flushed, “Not that this pregnancy is a malady by any means!”
I let my jaw lower a few centimeters as a product of habit and gyrated it slowly as I absorbed this, deep in thought. I wasn’t quite expecting this bombshell that Miss Cherry Jubilee disclosed to us in the quaint confines of her kitchen, but frankly wasn’t nonplussed by it either, knowing that young lovers can often make poor, passion induced decisions which wind up having long term consequences for both the lovers and the world around them. But why did it have to be this couple, and why now? This news had the potential to result in unwanted ramifications down the line for all of us. No matter, this obstacle can be circumvented somehow. While I was pensive, Applejack was nearing the climax of some kind of internal meltdown. Her breathing rate was in nigh hyperventilating territory, her blood was boiling and lending her an impressively reddish hue, and if this were a cartoon, I imagine that she’d have steam issuing out of her ears presently.
Thinking quickly, my eyes flashed as I reflexively cast a thaumatic field around us in a five meter radius that would insulate the room from undue noise in anticipation for AJ’s emotional explosion. The very red faced Applejack slid back and stood upright. The legs of her chair scraped violently against the floor, like nails on a chalkboard, as she roared at the top of her lungs with a stentorian volume that was only two notches away from The Royal Caps Tone (That is… eardrum burstingly potent), “BRAEBURN! Why that no good, lousy, scum suckin’, rotten Apple! HOW DARE HE FATHER A KID WITHOUT OUR FAMILY’S PERMISSION! AND WITHOUT MARRYIN’ FIRST ON TOP OF IT!?THE SHEER STONES ON HIM!”
‘Fully functional stones, it would seem. Clearly, she is not pleased with this news’ I observed with faint humor, with me thinking up a way to curb her anger while also keeping the noise to a minimum.
Applejack slammed her fists onto the table and glared at Miss Jubilee with fire in her eyes, “Where is he?” She growled low in her throat.
“O-Out in the f-fields to the s-south. M-minding the orchard along with the other h-hands as u-usual” The stunned woman stuttered, not having seen this raging side of Applejack before. A destination in mind, Applejack stood up and rotated in place with a look on her face that I couldn’t trust not to screw things up before we had even started.
I stood up from my seat and intercepted her before she could stomp out of the house and cause a scene, which we did not need if we wanted to maintain the smallest semblance of secrecy, “Applejack, I know you’re angry but think for a second. If you go out there to tear your cousin a new one in front of everybody, how can you expect to keep this secretive affair under wraps? People will talk. It’s a well known fact” I explained this to her carefully and deliberately, incredulous to how this wasn’t apparent to her right off the bat.
“That blasted Apple has gone and planted his seed in the wrong orchard!” She glowered at me, “He didn’t tell our family that he was seein’ anyone until I found out through you, and now I find out that he’s got mah first cousin once removed in Strongheart’s belly? He and I need to have words… serious words, ya hear?” And nothing will dissuade me from doing this, she left hanging in the air, unspoken.
Jubilee poorly picked that moment to offer her input, “It’s not necessarily a guarantee that he’s the father, sugah. The Doc’s noninvasive diagnostic spell doesn’t trace parentage after all” She pointed out in the spirit of helpfulness, though she was only achieving the opposite of that, really.
Even I had to poke holes in what she was suggesting, “You’ve kept them under your watch for a while now. Tell me, Miss Jubilee. Do they act like a couple that’s in love? Do they make starry eyes at each other? Do they sneak glances at each other once in a while that whole plays could be written about? Do they seem as if the better part of themselves would be lost without the other?” I grilled her, with the ulterior motive of also probing how legitimate this relationship between the two was and hearing about it for myself.
“Well I-… You see…” She trailed off, not sure how to respond. We could all of us see how her lack of denials to any of my statements was just as telling as an admission.
Applejack snorted, the Orchard owner’s silence being plenty clarifying for her, “That’s all I needed to hear from ya on the matter. Now move, Zenith” She commanded, attempting to stare me into submission.
I held my ground, “Jacqueline Applejack Apple” I addressed her by her rarely used full name (which was known to me when Annabelle Smith Apple chastised her granddaughter for carelessly tracking chunks of dirt on the porch floorboards during my personal Hell Week there) to shock her into inaction, “The Princess recommended you to accompany me on this diplomatic mission of peacekeeping, and I agreed with her recommendation because I knew you to be a sensible woman of levelheaded prudence. I vouched as much to her”
I jabbed a finger at her, “The actions I am seeing from you right now are making a liar out of me. This impatient need to confront your cousin will reveal the truth of our presence in front of everybody present, which could cause Strongheart to fly the coop and not turn back. If she senses that something is wrong and vanishes, you can kiss any chance she has of talking the hostilities between the settlers and the Buffalo Braves down goodbye. Any blood that spills on account of that would be on your hands” I warned her of the consequences.
She winced slightly at the jab to the virtue that defined her and the possibility of bloodshed being on her, but would ultimately have none of it, using her strong arms to try and force me aside, “Out of mah way, Zenith! This is an Apple family issue and it don’t concern you none!” She waspishly declared, roughly shoving me out of her path.
“I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait until you simmer down, Jackie” I murmured, just catching enough of her attention with the impromptu nickname for a supercharged stunning spell (originally intended for Strongheart) to slam into the side of her face, smashing through the passive magical defenses that being an Element Bearer afforded and zapping her. The resultant energies of the spell surged through her body overloaded her muscle neurons like a Taser, dropping her like a sack of potatoes where she quivered until she was still.
“Sorry AJ,” I apologized to her, “but there’s too much at stake here for you to muck this up over what could be a mere misunderstanding” I cast a second stunning spell to put her under. The jarring reality of her body failing to obey her directions mixed with the resenting betrayal in her eyes flashed across her countenance until her lids faltered shut and she fell into a tranquil, if not induced, state of sleep.
With the rowdy woman effectively incapacitated and in a jumbled heap on the wooden floor, I scooped her up in my arms along with our belongings and turned to the Cherry Ranch owner, who stared at me in awe. Whether it was over my strict actions or the fact that I could cast such potent magic was unknowable.
“Jus’ what are you, Agent Zenith?” She whispered somewhat fearfully, “Cause I don’t recall ever meeting a Stellar Mage who could cast stunning spells that could stop a determined woman like Applejack cold so casually”
“I am more than what I appear to be” I answered ambiguously in a faint rumble, “Do you have a spare guest room upstairs that I can deposit her in until the magic wears off in an hour or so?” And so I could have a moment’s peace to brood on how I would dissuade her from getting openly aggressive with her cousin’s welfare.
She nodded, “I do, but you will have to put her in one on the right wing after you use the stairs. Strongheart and Braeburn are residing at the far end of the left wing and I don’t feel it wise for Miss Applejack to be anywhere near those two in her current state of mind” She shook her head, “I’ve never seen her so angry about anything before, not once. For half a second I thought she’d taken leave of her senses”
“I’ve always perceived people like Applejack and myself to be more right-wing than most” I jested, despite knowing that the political joke would be lost on her, “And there is nothing in this world more important to Applejack than those she cares about, particularly family” I told her with an admiring tone, “Even if it is up to a fault. So do try to factor that into your renewed judgment of her” I advised her, not wanting AJ’s cordial relationship with the Ranch woman to spoil.
Most of the photos in the album that Big Mac kept in his closet attested to that. Every other picture had a much younger Applejack participating in some childhood experience like apple bobbing at an annual get together hosted at one of several locations or corn shucking in the kitchen with members of her extended family, of which there were many. The Apples are nothing if not productive, in the fields and in the bedroom if recent revelations are any clue.
“Ah well, there’s little sense in reflectin’ on it now” She sighed, “So much has been conspiring lately, what with the situation broiling in the South, those two being dumped on my doorstep, and now you and your companion come knockin” She flinched when she realized her faux pas, “Not that I truly mind receiving you or Miss Applejack. It’s just been a lot for me to process in such a short period of time, you know?”
“I understand that sentiment consummately, Miss Jubilee. (‘More than you could possibly know’)” I averred with a respective nod to her, “While we rarely choose the circumstances that life foists upon us, we can choose how we react to them. Your service to the Crown so far has been noted, and I’ll be sure to sing your praises to the Princesses when I make my next report to them in person”
The woman’s eyes widened at this, “You have the ear of the Princesses themselves?”
“Among other things, yes” I replied as I made for the kitchen exit and towards the stairs, with the woman hurrying to shadow me.
She flanked me, disbelief plastered all over her expression, “I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting them, I’m sorry to say. I’m just a lowly regional anchor for the Dodge Junction environs”
“Don’t undervalue yourself so” I scolded her lightly, “The Arcanian Kingdom is like a Temple, and Agents like you and I are the keystones that keep all those pretty arches composing the framework structure in place. Without our influence, the Kingdom would be deprived of its most valuable assets, and we would all be worse for it” I asserted to her, though perhaps I was inflating the importance of the Kingdom’s Agents a mite. Celestia would only be publicly announcing my recruitment sometime this week.
“I’ve never thought of it that way” She admitted as we began to climb the steps, “You sure do have a fancy way with words, Agent Zenith”
“I like to wax my philosophy every now and then” I chuckled, “And please, you can just call me Zenith”
“Then you can call me Cherry, Zenith” She shot back with a winsome smile as we reached the top of the stairs, “The fifth room on the right side ought to be empty… oh, shoot. That’s the same room she stayed in back when she was working for me” She remembered with a scowl. She was witness to the events of Applejack’s shame, and apparently hadn’t forgotten how difficult it must have been for her to see this place again.
“I’ll take that room then, if there’s a negative value attached to its memory” I sagaciously claimed it for myself, “It’s better not to rub salt in the inflamed wounds of her family’s honor. Is there an alternative one for her?”
“The one across from it is unoccupied and will have to do” She substituted lodging suggestions, “It ain’t half as cushy though. I use it as an extra storeroom most of the time” She said embarrassedly.
“Applejack is a woman of modest means” I affirmed, shifting her in my grasp and absently noting how much weight all that muscle added to her form, “I doubt that’ll be the first thing on her mind once she wakes anyhow”
“I don’t envy you that” She remarked, “Just try to keep her from damaging anything. This house has been in my family for generations” It was almost imperceptible, but there was a transitory tremor in her voice at the mention of her family.
I indulged my curiosity, “Speaking of, I haven’t noticed any family members of yours around here” I observed, “Just orchard hands. And they don’t bunk here either” The majority assumably had homes in the town or a worker’s hut to bed down in.
At that her face became slightly pained, “They’ve all passed, some time ago. My younger sister Cherry Cobbler succumbed to a degenerative disease that deteriorated the tissue of her lungs before she made it to her seventh year, and my birth mother Amarelle found out that she was barren and unable to conceive shortly thereafter. I have relatively close relations with the Maraschinos in Vanclover from my grandfather Morello’s second wife, but other than that… I fear I’m quite alone these days”
‘That might explain why she was being moderately flirtatious earlier. She’s lonely’ I felt an odd pang of sympathy for the woman. No one deserved to be left alone in the world like that.
And now I was the person who was committing the verbal faux pas, “My sincerest apologies, Cherry. I did not mean to bring up any painful memories of lost loved ones”
“Don’t you fret over my loneliness, Zenith” She brushed it off with a disguising simper, her faint frown melting from her features, “Eventually I’ll find myself a good man to start a family of my own with” The simper became a knowing smirk, those Spring green irises of hers boring into mine.
I had a random thought, ‘Red and Green are complementary colors, aren’t they?’
I eyed her carefully, “I suspect that you will. Is this the room?” I motioned to the aforementioned door on my left, making Applejack’s legs sway in my bridal style hold.
She nodded in confirmation and helpfully opened the door for us. It wasn’t really mandatory since my hands didn’t need to be unoccupied in order to just magick the door wide and make it accessible for me, but it was the considerate thought that counted. The interior of the guest room was exactly as I pictured and as Miss Jubilee hinted at. Covered and uncovered crates lined the walls and were filled with all sorts of things, ranging from farming tools to kitchenware. Any furniture that was implemented in the room was obscured by white sheets, which I assumed were to protect it from particulate matter and the aging rays of sunlight. The drapes were pulled over the window, with only a thin slit betwixt them to allow a stream of dying dusk light inside. Motes and specks of dust could be seen drifting in that light, highlighting the fact that this room was in dire need of some dusting. Not that I was going to go out of my way to fetch a feather duster and do it myself.
I magicked the white sheet off the bed, gently laid the snoozing Applejack down on the simple spring mattress with linen sheets, plunked her baggage by the bed, and rotated in place to face Miss Jubilee, “Would you mind terribly if I cast another spell or two?”
When she made it clear that she didn’t object, I went ahead with it. The atmosphere around us became electrostatic as I made it swirl in an artificial breeze that collected all of the dust particles and clumped them together until I had a neat little sphere the size of a whiffle ball floating in front of me. Without so much as I second thought, I incinerated the dust ball until it was nothing more than a puff of smoke, which I then dissipated harmlessly. I then inhaled deeply, finding the once musky air in the room already fresher than it was prior to utilizing my housekeeping magic. I silently begrudged that for all its wonders, magic couldn’t lend the room a natural scent of lavender or lilacs without actually conjuring those flowers (which wastefully ate up mana like crazy even for Trifects like myself), so I settled for splitting the oxygen molecules in the air and recombining them into their O3 forms, even though I despised the way Ozone overpowered the olfactory senses.
“I see you have a diversity of useful spells at your fingertips, Zenith” The Orchard gal commented, sounding rather impressed with my wizardry, “The situation must be dreadful indeed if the Princesses sent an urbane man of your caliber here”
“You flatter me, Cherry. Though to be honest with you, this would be my first assignment as an Agent. I’m somewhat of a recent addition to the ranks” I shrugged noncommittally, indifferent to her praise of my skills and newfound station.
She laid a hand on her chest and flashed her pearly teeth, “Is that so? Well I’ve got a dozen bottles of cherry wine in the cellar that I’ve been saving just for special occasions. Would you care to have a few glasses with me? To celebrate joining our unofficial family?”
‘Cherry wine huh? I’ve never had that before. Could be interesting’ And Celestia never expressly forbade me from drinking while I was on the job. I could all but see her disapproving stare in my mind’s eye… wait. She could technically be eavesdropping through that magical seal on my sword hilt right now.
I risked it anyway, “Who would I be to deny my generous host?” Then I recalled an important detail, “But what of Miss Strongheart? I know you told Applejack that her cousin was out in the fields earning his keep here, but what of her? How does she occupy her time these days?”
“She occasionally helps me around the house doing trivial women’s work, but mostly she favors staying out of sight and availing herself of my library selection” The woman informed me, “She should be browsing one Miss Daisy’s Cornfield in her room now, awaiting Braeburn’s return from the fields”
I gave her a quizzical look, “You let them share a room together?” I figured it was pointless to inquire into whether it was a two bed setup or one, given Miss Strongheart’s recent acquisition in her womb.
“They’re inseparable, those two. They’re like a couple of cherries on the same stem! I envy them sometimes…” She glanced at me with a measuring tint to her expression, “I haven’t the heart to keep them apart, in spite of the impropriety. It would be a violation of my personal principles”
“I won’t ask you to do anything that goes against your morals, Cherry” So long as the morals themselves are reasonable, “I would like to wet my whistle though. Lead on, if you would?” I gestured at the hall with my hand, and the woman was receptive to the cue.
As I closed the door behind me, I cast a quick spell on it that caused it to glow reddish for a second as the film of magic settled over it. When that was over with, I casually tossed my things into the room across from AJ’s. It was not a mystery that Cherry wanted to know what I did to her doorway, based on the probing moue she had on her face.
“It’s a barrier spell with some extra functions weaved into the matrix of the spell” I elucidated, “Its primary purpose is obviously as a barrier to keep Applejack confined to her quarters, and its secondary purpose is to send an alerting pulse that will mentally notify me when she makes contact with the door. So if she attempts to turn the knob, or Heaven forbid, kick the door down… I’ll know about it” I winked, “Your houseguests will be sufficiently protected from the violent approach, I promise you”
“A crafty precaution” She acknowledged, before wrinkling her forehead, “But what if she tries to leave by the window again like she did last time?”
I wasn’t worried, having accounted for that possibility beforehand, “With all the boxes and other obstacles barring her way, she’s bound to make some noise if she goes for the window” I tapped the auricle of my left ear, “The spell is sensitive to that as well, and I’m as swift in my reactions as they come. Applejack won’t be confronting Braeburn on her own terms anytime today, not until she cools off”
She accepted this insurance policy without objection. Once we were back in the kitchen, Miss Jubilee bid me to retake the chair I was using before Applejack had her episode of emotional outburst. She sauntered to a dimly lit corner of the kitchen area and revealed a wooden hinged hatch in the ground that I hadn’t noticed before, likely since it blended in seamlessly with the floorboards and because the handle matched the dark green coloration of its surroundings. She grasped at the grainy ring of the trapdoor and exposed a dark aperture in the floor where I presumed her wine cellar was with a curt yank. She lit a lantern hanging from the wall with a matchstick and descended the steps, watching her footing on the narrow rungs of the ladder deliberately. When she remerged, she had a black glass wine bottle in one hand with a crimson fluid contained inside that was darker than deoxygenated blood.
She blew the dust off the glass of the label, which was that of a lone cherry tree on top of a parabolic hill lush with vegetation, “This vintage was a good year for me. Marks the first anniversary of my ownership of this Ranch. We might as well make this an early dinner while we’re at it. I suppose we can use it as an excuse to discuss what we’re to do with the political fugitives I’m sheltering” She retrieved two wine glasses from a cupboard and popped the cork, pouring in the liquid, “How do you feel about cherry pie?”
“I would love… to taste your cherry pie” I earnestly piped up with ardor that could rival Soarin’s, not caring how much it seemed like a double entendre (Which she might probably misconstrue for something untoward). I hadn’t had a fruit pie since I bunked with the Apple Family in their farmhouse, and a man could only appreciate apple pies for so long… even one as proudly American as me.
“Comin’ right up, sugah” She smirked at me, “You really must forgo the headwear at the table though. In this region, we settler folk consider it to be poor manners from our house guests”
“Shame on me” I removed my (technically Big Mac’s) hat and hung it on the pointed edge of the table since the hat rack was out of eyesight, “Sometimes I forget these things”
She tittered as she put on cooking mitts and pulled out a cherry pie that she must’ve made earlier and had been keeping warm in her four chambered cast iron oven, “It’s nothing to chew your nails over, Zenith. Though it is rather apparent that you’re from the urbanized regions further north, which coupled with your lack of accent is a clear tell. Do you come from Concordia perhaps? The adamantine way you compose yourself wouldn’t be out of place there” She ventured a guess.
“What is it with you orchard owners automatically presuming me to be a city boy?” I groused aloud, “I am from the suburbs. I am neither a country nor a city person as far as my background goes” I held my thumb and index finger centimeters apart, “I’m right in the sweet spot. The best of both and worst of none” Although there was a few from the county I called home who could make a convincing argument for the opposite.
“I see” She vocalized with genuine interest as she extracted the sizable pasty. The pie was a hearty fourteen inches across and was baked to perfection. The crust was a golden brown and even from this distance I could discern that it was the right balance between firm and flaky. The latticework in the center of the pie crisscrossed a thickened mixture of syrupy cherries that I’m sure were the only thing my eyes reflected if one were to examine my gaze.
The appetizing smell permeated the air and my stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly in anticipation, “I know some part of you is a cherry lover at least” She laughed as she set it on the tabletop, hearing my bodily gurgling, “I’ve never seen a man so eager for pie since I took Braeburn in and gave him and Strongheart sanctuary”
“It’s been years since I’ve had cherry pie” I quietly confessed to her.
“Truly!?” She was aghast, “Well I cannot in good conscience let that atrocity continue a minute more!” She plucked a plate from a stack in the middle of the table and produced a serving knife in the other hand. With it she cut the pie into sixths and plopped a lovely looking slice onto the plate intended for me, “Eat up, Agent. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried one of my pies”
‘That’s a immodest claim, but I’m too hungry to dispute it right now’ I grabbed my fork and stabbed at the tip of the slice before scooping it up into my awaiting maw. The taste was… momentarily indescribable to me. It was like soothing classical music on a bright summer day, with the warm light of the sun soaking into my skin as I kicked back without a care in the world.
I resisted the urge to moan my satisfaction, but Jubilee could still discern how fulfilling that single bite of her cherry stock was, “Glad to see you enjoying yourself, Zenith”
“God” I breathed as I wolfed down the rest, “I haven’t had a dish that delectable in what feels like ages!” I pressed a hand to my chest and hummed with pleasure, “I think I might be in love with your skill for making pasties, Cherry” I wasn’t sure if I was joking or not.
She blushed at the exclamatory plaudit, “That’s only half of the equation, Zenith. You should wash it down with this” To punctuate her words, she cupped her glass between her middle and ring finger and swirled it in an advertising manner.
“You’re right” I snatched the glass by the stem and raised it upwards towards her in a toast, “To newly forged friendships!”
“To the beginning of a brand new and beautiful relationship” She declared along with me, clinking her glass against mine with a musical ring that I was pretty sure only leaden wine glasses could emit.
I gave the contents of the glass an experimental sniff, appraising its heady scent, “Hmm… a fruity bouquet with a hint of oak from the cask it fermented in” I tipped the wine glass back, letting the liquid slosh onto my tongue and turn that faint smell into a potent taste, “A bold blend of sour with sweetness in the undertones. Classy” I wasn’t big on wines in general, but this cherry wine managed to catch my interest.
“A connoisseur!” She gushed with a note of admiration, “You become more interesting by the minute, Zenith. Where did you learn to discern the flavor properties in wine like that?”
“From my father, mostly” I told her, “He was never a heavy drinker, by any definition, but he knew how to assess his libations. That knowledge naturally passed down to me via the verbal tradition” I may have also picked his brain on the subject. My guileless and inexperienced mind reasoned that any liquids that came in so many creative varieties of bottling had to be worth looking into. It’s a shame that the reality was on the disappointing side.
“He sounds like he was quite the man” She remarked, “You had a close relationship with your father?”
“The closest” I replied without any hesitation. My chest twinged a bit at the memory of family, but I suppressed it, “He was my first and greatest role model, growing up. He was incredibly hardworking, morally upright, had a sharp, witty sense of humor, put his beloved family above himself, and instilled me with his wisdom. I wouldn’t be half the man I was today without his guiding influence in my life” I spoke from the heart. What would he say about the life I was leading currently? Would he be proud of what I had done and the reasons for why I had done it? I pushed the uncomfortable thoughts away. Now was not the time for reminiscing, but for familiarizing myself with my company.
“I am envious of you then” Cherry uttered, taking a ladylike sip of her wine, “My Pa always had his hands full managing this precious ranch of ours, so we were never able to spend as much time together to develop the closeness you describe having with your father. And with his unfortunate passing after a losing battle with an illness that resisted even the Doc’s magically based treatments, the opportunity for that intimacy faded along with his health” She then looked on the brightside, “He did teach me the precarious art of business management with an undertaking of this size though, so there is that. What did your father do for a living?”
“He worked out business deals for a reputable and prestigious pharmaceutical company that dealt mainly in over the counter prescription drugs” I answered, skimming over the specifics, “Though the company itself frequently alternated its name on so many occasions and so randomly with its thematic labeling that I nicknamed it Capricious Incorporated. My father’s routine juggling in face to face meetings with so many people from rival companies or producers with differing desires and concerns while simultaneously hammering out a compromise that pleased both parties is partly how I learned to get a decent read on people and utilize that in my own capacity for negotiating agreements” Though the people here are by and large more agreeable than those in the heartland.
‘And I’m liable to be using that skill a lot in the coming days’ I mused.
Then she crossed an unspoken line, “Are you two still in touch?”
In spite of my efforts, my mood sank, “Once… I could talk to him about anything at anytime. My present circumstances prevent me from communicating with any of my family members now” I’ve given them my goodbyes though, so why did it still sting to recall their faces?
She was abashed, “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that. Do they live across continents? I’m sure you could convince one of the airship captains in Stratopolis to deliver a written letter along with their cargo on their next ocean crossing”
“They could cross an ocean of stars, and they’d never be able to deliver that letter” I muttered under my breath, “You don’t understand, Cherry, and I must politely request of you that we change the subject to something less familial”
The shamed tinge to her cheeks grew hotter (Though that could have just been the alcohol in the wine taking effect), “Of course. Where should we start?”
“How is it that Braeburn and Strongheart braved the desert between Appleloosa and Dodge Junction without anyone spotting them?” My tone shifted professionally to the business at hand.
“By the skin of their teeth, it would seem” She shook her head, “Poor dears had depleted the last of their water skins when that dust storm hit. Normally the desert storms here aren’t so bad, but this one was ominous in its severity. If they had been caught out in the open when it struck instead of within my orchards, their flesh would have been sheared off of their bones and their lungs would have been desiccated from the sandy dust”
“Fortunately that wasn’t the case” But it did leave one question, “This dust storm, how is it that one cannot tell that the storm passed through here? The orchard itself looks as healthy and vibrant as it ideally should be” I pointed out.
She bristled with pride, “That’s one of the secret benefits bequeathed upon an orchard imbued with Agrarian magic. The orchard is enchanted to resist even the worst weather conditions while still bearing fruit. Dust is absorbed into the root system and converted into soil. The remaining dust residue was easily handled by arming my field hands with brooms and dustpans. They worked tirelessly to tidy the place up” She giggled, “They love this orchard almost as much as I do”
I accepted this tentatively, marveling at how much she must pay them to ‘love’ this place like she did, “The couple crossed how many miles of open desert to reach Dodge Junction?”
She tapped a finger to her chin as she calculated the distance, “The expanse lying between here and Appleloosa has got to be at least a hundred leagues of dust, sand, and hardpan. Though with the harsh sun bearing down on them and the arid conditions with nary a well of water in sight… it must have felt like a thousand miles to those poor dears”
‘This isn’t a positive sign’ I brooded, ‘It means that they were desperate enough to put their respective homes in the rearview that they would venture into the barren desert to accomplish that goal’
“Have they hinted at what their plans are?” I asked her, “Surely they didn’t intend to overstay their welcome here?”
“If they did, they were very tight lipped about it, but it was obvious that they were relieved that I insisted they stay a good long while under my care” She chewed her lower lip, “They were tense at first though, jumping at the smallest shadows and wondering if anyone came from the south looking for them” She looked at me in acute fear, “Do you think they were being hunted?”
I considered it, “It’s very possible they were. Tell me, Cherry. How much have you been apprised about the identity of Miss Strongheart?”
She bobbed her shoulders, “I know that she’s betrothed to somebody important in her tribe, as you’ve told me yourself. But not much else”
Then it was time to rectify that, “She’s the daughter of their Chieftain, which I’m assuming is the equivalent to our Royalty. Her absence will be linked to settlers, and they know it, since Braeburn is evidently not with that community”
“Oh my…” She gawked, shriveling back into her chair, “Suddenly their latest reasons for being incensed makes sense” Her forehead wrinkled further, “But how can that be? Strongheart hasn’t said much since she arrived, but she dismissed herself as being all that imperative, claiming to be yearning to start life anew with her love”
I mirrored her shrug, “That could be the nervousness of fleeing from her tribe, or from the ensuing hunt in their getaway, or the cruelty of desert wastes gnawing at their fortitude. Either way, she had no reason to be upfront with you about her real identity” Which would only have been additional ammunition for Applejack to berate her cousin with if she were awake for this conversation.
Yet Celestia knew for a fact that it was her taking shelter in the Orchard since Braeburn accompanied her. Her sources and clairvoyant assessment of their relationship (even Applejack knew nothing of this) must have been expertly positioned to make this kind of conjecture. Albeit I doubt she could have predicted Strongheart’s pregnancy. But did the newly made mother know?
“Who else did the Doc disclose Strongheart’s… condition to?” I might have to buy people’s silence, or ensure it through other means.
“Just me! I swear it” She answered hastily, sounding fearful of what I might do to those who were in on the secret, “Doctor Holiday is one of the very few people in town who knows of my association with the Crown, and he has an excellent sense of discretion. Not even Strongheart knows of the precious life quickening in her womb”
I reduced my wine glass to half volume, “And it will have to stay that way, for the time being. Her betrothed will not take kindly to the news that she has already consummated a relationship with some other man. I don’t know a thing about how the Buffalo Braves view the institution of marriage, but fidelity is a concept that crosses most cultural borders”
I idly watched the liquid in my wine glass swirl and paint the walls of the glass as I spun it, “Speaking of… I must know something. You won’t violate your principles and keep Braeburn and his amour apart from the same bed, but you will report housing them to the authorities. Can you give me your reasons for the disparity, if you would?”
She refilled her wine glass, eager to empty the whole bottle, “My principles never get in the way of my duty to the Crown, Zenith. What Bareburn is doing for his love is admirable, but unbelievably foolish. If the situation in the south comes to a head because this woman’s disappearance was the straw that broke the camel’s back… people could die”
She extended every digit on her free hand, “There’s roughly five thousand settlers scattered around the mesa region hugging the plains where the Buffalo Braves roam about, following the herds after which they named themselves. The largest concentration of them are in the town of Appleloosa at a third of that number” Her eyes became slits as she tapped the table with those fingers three times, “There’s anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand Buffalo Braves making a home for themselves in those plains, many of whom are hunters trained from birth in the art of the kill” Those fingernails now took on a fresh meaning.
“They cannot be coordinated enough to amass that number into a war host though” I argued, “The overall tribe consists of multiple villages, just as scattered as the settler towns. The outlaws raiding them seemingly at random are proof of that, elsewise they’d mount an effective defense of their home. How populated is the main village, where the Chieftain resides?”
“Haven’t the foggiest” She shrugged, almost flippantly, “They don’t have to all be working in unison in order to crush the settler folk however. I had heard about the first clash between the Appleloosans and the Braves over the right to plant an apple orchard over what the natives deemed as sacred stampeding grounds for the herds” She clicked her tongue, “Poor folks were nearly overwhelmed when things got ugly”
With their numbers, I could imagine that was almost certainly the case, “Did anyone die?”
“Lot of injuries, and a few maiming’s that could have gotten gruesome if it weren’t for the conciliatory efforts of Braeburn and Strongheart” She hummed, “Applejack tells this tale better than I ever will, but while she was fanning at the flames and defending the settlers’ claim, her cousin wanted the two sides to reach an agreement and thankfully… so did Strongheart. Braeburn pleaded with Sheriff Silverstar while Strongheart likewise urged her father to call off the attack. After a cease of the hostilities was painstakingly brought about and the leadership of the two sides met in the middle, the settlers agreed to chop down a section of their trees as to clear a path for the Buffalo Braves to channels their herds through so they could water them at a nearby river. In exchange, the land the settlers were on was recognized as sovereign Arcanian territory that the Braves would not interfere in so long as peace was preserved”
That more or less matched up to my perception of the events, “Is that it?”
“The Buffalo Braves of the main village also humbly requested that the settlers provide them with apple pies as trade goods to swap with the other villages” She hooted with laughter, “I always get a kick out of picturing that. Can you visualize those uncivilized people chowing down on apple pies?”
I crooked my head disapprovingly, “Cherry, just because the Buffalo Braves subscribe themselves to a hunter-gatherer’s way of life does not make them any less civilized than we are. Otherwise, no agreements would have been realized in the first place and Appleloosa would likely be a ghost town with a bloody past”
She blushed heavily (again, this could be attributed to the wine), “You’re absolutely right, Zenith. Sometimes I say things under the influence of the drink that have no right to pass through my lips. I need only look at the refined politeness of Strongheart to see how wrong I am to call them uncivilized, as my Pa once did when he told me and my sister spook stories about the men with buffalo heads coming to snatch us away in the night if we misbehaved”
Without waiting for my permission, she related many of these spook stories to me in detail, occasionally stopping in her narratives to imbibe some more wine in increasingly less ladylike swigs. The stories covered all sorts of material, from snarks to wailing, spectral phantoms that would scream in your ears when you slept unless you paid them the proper rites. It was mildly entertaining at first, until five minutes ticked into ten, which turned into thirty. Before I knew it, a whole hour had melted away listening to Miss Jubilee relate folklore about the incorporeal, half of which wasn’t even true since I had met incorporeal beings that were certified ghosts before passing into the beyond. I had never leaked it to anyone, but I still possessed fragments of their memories and the lives they led before Celestia’s spat with the Night Terror over the mastership of the world abruptly ended them. Luna still did not know about their grisly, unspeakable fate afterwards, and I did not plan on notifying her of that at any time.
“Ya‘ver had one of those sturies told to you as a tot by your pa?” She asked me in a moderately tipsy slur, “I don’ know why, but they always fascinated me as a child. Ther’sh plenty of books in my library that reference them”
“My father was religious… not superstitious” I deadpanned, “He taught me to fear God, not monsters arbitrarily conjured from the depths of one’s imagination” And the real monsters skulking about in the shadows could be dealt with handily if they were to materialize themselves before me.
There was hardly any light coming through the windows now, signaling the beginning of dusk. The creak of the hinges as the entry door swung open echoed throughout the relatively empty house, followed by a gentle closing instead of a typical neglectful slam, indicating that whoever it was that was responsible was careful not to draw too much attention to themselves. The mystery person’s boot spurs clinked along their path in a similar way to mine, though the clink was distinct enough to be recognizable to me in the future. When the figure veiled by shadows stepped into the light of the kitchen, it was revealed to be the lucky (or very unlucky) man himself, Braeburn.
The man himself looked drowsy from a lengthy day in the fields, but there was an easygoing smile on his face that seemed like it could withstand a lot of stress before wilting. The brim of his brown Stetson hat had a unique upward curve to it that reflected the cocky vibes his presence gave off. Below that, sandy blonde hair tumbled over the upper half of his downcast, chartreuse green eyes. His garments consisted of a long sleeved button up work shirt of subdued yellow that was checkered in white lines and damp from sweat. Over that he wore a sleeveless leather vest with breast pockets. Dirtied jeans covered his legs and were anchored in place by a belt with a bright red apple (doubtlessly his namesake fruit) stamped onto the silver metal buckle. His hands were gloved and one of them rested inside the lining of his belt by the thumb as he walked with a subtle swagger in his step. The man’s low heeled cowboy boots were only calf high, but appeared sturdy in spite of their age and signs of repeated wear.
“Evenin’, Miss Jubilee” He casually greeted the woman (who was swaying a tad in her chair from the wine) in the southern drawl he had in common with his cousins, “Sorry if ah’m a mite late for dinner. One a’ the cogs for the cherry conveyer belt snapped a couple a’ teeth an’ I had to go into town to buy a replacement for it”
“Evenin’ handsome!” She chirped with a drunken glow to her face, “That’s alright, you’re jesht in time! The cherry pie was on the verge of gettin’ cold” She tipped her wine glass in my direction, “He knows what I’m talking about, dont’cha sugah?”
At her gesturing, he finally noticed me sitting nearby at the table and tipped his hat respectfully, “Howdy there stranger! Don’t recall seein’ you round here before. You a friend of Miss Jubilee?” He inquired, removing his gloves one at a time.
He was being decorous, but there was a scrutinizing edge to his voice that alerted me not to mince my next words, “You could say that, given how innately friendly she is. Though I do believe she’s had quite the fill of wine at the moment to boost that friendliness” I misdirected his attention back to Cherry, who giggled in intoxication at having all eyes fixed on her.
“I reckon ya got a point there” He stuck his hand out to me, which I proceeded to shake, noting the smooth roughness to the flesh of his palm, “Ah’m Braeburn, one of the field hands mah boss has on staff. The woman herself was kind enough to lend us a room with a roof over our heads”
His slightly rigid posture relaxed as we clasped hands, and I knew that he believed he no longer had cause to suspect that a plot was brewing in which he would be a central character. For a man on the run, he was awfully open about the fact that he was sharing a guest room with somebody else. He was either overly confident about the safety of his sanctuary, or wasn’t too fast on the draw in keeping his mouth shut about certain potentially valuable pieces of information.
“Zenith,” I gave him my own moniker, “from up north. I’m prospective aid for business here at the orchard and beyond. And this wonderful dinner is doubling as an interview with which to apprise Miss Jubilee of my talents. Though the loquacious woman is out-trading me in the amusing stories department”
Despite having one too many glasses of wine, Cherry was still coherent enough to catch my drift, “A’course! Zenith here is a very promisin’ candidate indeed! Stay a while and help me grill him good Braeburn! I don’ think he’s tense enough!” She relapsed into her uncultivated southern accent as she jested, much to my consternation.
Inserting that I was from the north eroded whatever leftover wariness he retained, “That’s mighty tempting. But I think I’ll jus’ take a slice of pie to go and turn in for the night” He grinned wryly and with his right palm facing upwards, gesticulated to himself with a lowering motion, “As ya can probably tell, I’m in need of a hot soak with soap”
“Well don’t let us keep you! Get yourself a slice of pie, another for your roommate, and get a move on!” I exclaimed jocosely. Meanwhile I was taking my own measure of Applejack’s cousin’s character. He gave me the impression of being an agreeable guy, but people could become fiercely and irrationally protective of their loved ones if they thought they were in danger. I of all people could understand that.
His brow furrowed, “A thoughtful suggestion but… naw. Mah roommate prefers the taste of apples” His grin stretched a little wider, “If’n you know what I mean”
‘If I didn’t already know who he was sharing that room with, I’d be inclined to think some very scandalous things about Braeburn’ I mused with exiguous amounts of sleazy humor.
“I’m sure they do” I replied neutrally, “I’ll take care of Miss Jubilee here. She’s not currently fit to properly conclude this interview of ours” I indicated to the woman, who occasionally squeaked out a light hiccup that sounded completely adorable coming from her, which was in stark contrast to her age.
“I am very much fit to concluth thish interview!” She contested in a barely comprehensible garble, reaching for her glass and failing, knocking it over in the process and spilling the darkish fluid over the mahogany, “And I say that you’re fired!” She clapped a hand to her face, “No… I mean hired!” She vivaciously corrected herself, in high spirits in spite of her foolishness.
I sank into the cushion of the Victorianesque chair, “I rest my case” I sighed with genuine exasperation.
Why was it that I had to put up with so many women who were into alcohol? Daring overdid her intemperance, Octavia could hide her drink infused courage, Lyra gulled me into cutting loose at Berry’s bar (I still can’t remember what happened after I went bottom’s up with the infamous Berry Blaster), and now Cherry Jubilee here looks like she couldn’t walk in a straight line after only a few glasses of wine. So much for the vaunted fortitude of the Agrarian liver.
Braeburn observed all of this with that same, stupid grin, “I can see ya got yer hands full here pardner” He cut himself a slice of pie and appropriated a plate with sumac designs sketched into the rim, “Anyhow, you’re right. I need to get a move on afore the twilight hours descend” He rose from the table and tipped his brown leather banded hat to the both of us in parting, “Seeya in the mornin’ boss. Mister Zenith. G’night” With his farewells wished to us, he exited the kitchen and went up the stairs with his early dinner in tow.
Once I confirmed that he was out of my hearing range, I turned to Jubilee, “So I guess I’m in your employ now? Or will that be an unadulterated lie?”
Jubilee’s formerly happy expression faded with Braeburn’s passing, “We’ll talk about thish in the mornin’, Zenith” She waved me over almost desperately, “Help me up the stairs and to my bedroom, pleash. It’s right down the center hallway”
“Of course, Cherry” I acquiesced instantly, moving over to her and helping her out of her seat with firm hands clamped on her midsection. I wouldn’t say that she was light as a feather, but Jubilee’s meager plumpness scarcely had an adverse effect on her weight.
She massaged her temples and groaned on the way there, “I love the drink, but it doesn’t love me it sheems”
A loose floorboard on the stairs creaked as our combined weight strained it, “Such is the toll of excessive inebriation. It was a refreshing wine though”
She glanced at me incredulously, “Your face ishn’t so much as flushed! Jush what are ya made of that makesh you so impervious?”
“My abnormally immense alcohol tolerance means that conventional drinks can’t impair my complexion, much less my judgment” I chortled, remembering how that wasn’t always the case.
Once, even the faintest whiff of alcohol would impart a redness to my cheeks that was twice the brightness that Cherry was sporting. It was one of the unusual side effects of having my uncommon heritage. Now however, only the black witch’s brew that Berry Punch somehow contrived could cause me to skip the tipsy phase and go straight to the hammering hangover phase.
Speaking of which, “You probably should have balanced your wine intake with water, Cherry” I advised her, “Tomorrow morning wouldn’t smart so much otherwise”
“Pah!” She vocalized dismissively, “Ya don’ think a leehry woman like me wouldn’t stock a bafroom cabinet full of hangover cure vials, would ya?”
The lines forming the gap of my lips became flat, “I suppose I wouldn’t now” We were before the doorway now, “I’ll see you in the morning, Cherry. We’ve work yet to do. And I don’t just mean your original houseguests”
Cherry nodded, or maybe her head was just heavy in her alcoholic haze, “It’s a damn shame that Braeburn is taken with the natif girl. An’ it’s a worsh one that Applejack is taken with you” She murmured low, and I wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for my heightened senses.
I scoffed, “You’re imagining things, Cherry. Applejack and I are just…” I trailed off, unsure as to how our relationship could be objectively classified.
Were we only friends? We worked together on her farm, and that gave me plenty of time to get to know the country girl and respect her as an individual. We got along cordially, and efficiently handled the market throngs like a popular restaurant handled its midday lunch rush, with dynamic poise and grace. But nagging at the rear of my mind was the time where Rarity goaded Applejack into sneaking into my bed after Pinkie’s mandatory surprise welcoming party (of which I was the one doing the surprising) and pretend like it was the morning after the drunken debauchery, pivoting on the premise that my memory would be clouded by the drinking contest I had with Rainbow Dash (Whenever I was in need of a cackle, I just pictured her face when she believed that her cherished apple cider was lost to her). The apple farmer’s cheeks were so rosy when I feigned ignorance to her playing along with the deception, compounded by whispering huskily in her ear about my carnal capacity and nipping at the lobe. I assumed she was merely embarrassed that I turned the tables on her so easily, but maybe it was deeper than that. I frowned when I recalled the disappointed way she looked at me when I told her that I was hesitant with the idea of marrying someone due to internal insecurities that would stay known only to me. I felt a chill creep up my spine in contempt of the warm air inside of Miss Jubilee’s home.
Cherry smirked sharkishly at my newly withdrawn attitude, suddenly sufficiently sober enough to tease me, “I may not be the youngest gal in these parts anymore, but I’ve done my share of swoonin’ to still recognize that foolhardy burnin’ yearnin’ in the back of her eyes. She fancies you… even if she can’t admit it to herself”
My nose scrunched as I tried (and failed) to make sense of this, “But… why? Behind Pinkie Pie, Applejack is the second most neglected member of our circle of friends time wise. We bandy words about when it’s best to be honest every so often, but generally our interaction is kept to a minimum”
Not that our seldom get-togethers were either of our faults. My agenda was characterized by training with shadow opponents in the glade beneath my cloud home, reading esoteric texts about far off countries and their customs, and my affectionate obligations towards the women in my life… while Applejack had her orchard, her business, and family to keep her occupied. But now that I was devoting the energy to meditate on it, I cannot cite any instances where I saw Applejack spending extra time with a man (other than her brother) besides business transactions in the town. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was the only exception to that rule. Did some subconscious part of her latch onto me as a target for potential matchmaking? If that was so, then I couldn’t fathom why. She was literally the Element of Honesty and simple acts of stating untruths made her physically sick to her stomach, whereas I could lie until my tongue became charcoal and not feel regret afterwards, typically because I was of the opinion that I had a solid reason to lie.
On the flip side of all that; Applejack and I did have many qualities in common too. Both of us could be incredibly stubborn when we set our minds on something and would disregard alternate suggestions even if it was for our own well being. We both understood the value of a hard work ethic and agreed that your yields matched the magnitude of your toiling in the fields. I’d also shared the fact that I would never be able to see my parents in this life ever again, and it was difficult to disprove that our personal bond strengthened as she spoke about how we were alike in that misfortune. Perhaps there was more betwixt us than I initially gave it credit for.
“Who can say, Zenith? Us females are mysterious creatures, and our hearts are as fickle to us as they must be to you” She made light of her gender’s frustrating quirks.
“I do know this though. If she doesn’t make a move on you soon…” She circled a painted fingernail on my chest sensuously, “I just might” Her half lidded green eyes glinted mischievously as they bored into mine.
I cleared my throat and pulled my hat over my face to avoid her provocative gaze, “Once again you flatter me, Cherry. But that’s the alcohol doing the talking, not you. Even if it isn’t… let’s put business before pleasure first, okay?”
“Delayed gratification only makes the satisfaction all the sweeter, sugah” She hummed in affirmation as she opened the door partway and made a show of slowly sliding herself behind it while maintaining eye contact with me, “Nighty night, Zenith” She left me standing in the hall reforming my perceptions of the woman for the third occasion that day.
I shuffled in the direction of the right wing and stopped by the door to Applejack’s room. The spell guarding the door had picked up no precipitous activity, even though the spell I had used to incapacitate the tough Agrarian woman had worn off by now. I put my ear to the door and listened carefully to what was on the other end, hearing nothing out of the ordinary besides the hushed breathing of a snoozing woman, meaning that Applejack was legitimately asleep on her bed. I took a step back and nodded tersely to myself. If her earlier attitude had bled into her mind, she was likely dreaming about the many different methods at her disposal for ripping her cousin a new one for his brashness. I did not envy the harrowing task of speaking with her when she awoke tomorrow and physically expressed her displeasure at my knocking her out, when all she wanted to do was have a discussion with her cousin about him knocking a woman up.
Contented that dealing with Applejack’s drama was put on hold for now, I slinked into my own room crosswise to hers. The room was dim in the encroaching blackness of the night, with Luna’s moon providing little in the way of illumination for this region of Arcania. The silhouette of a lamp on the dresser was the first thing that popped out to me, so I stumbled over several objects shrouded in shadow to get to it as my eyes adjusted to the poor lighting conditions. The lamp was one of those types where in order to activate it; you had to yank on a metal pull chain in a downward motion. I did so, receiving a grating sound as I worked the mechanism. Jubilee’s deceptively rudimentary home was of the modern persuasion, so electricity flowed through an insulated cord running up the vase and into an old fashioned light bulb that was rated at about sixty watts, if the level of illumination it beamed was any indication.
I repined as I noted that the filaments in the light bulb were shaped in such a manner that they resembled cherries. The orangey rays of light lit up the room and gave me insight into its décor, which unsurprisingly paid homage to the endless fields of fruit growing outside the window. There was a pair of cherries on the wall to the left of the bed, on the door leading to the hallway, and on the foot of the bed. There was even a picture of a cherry tree in bloom above the headboard! I resisted an urge to grumble unkindly about the egocentrism transpiring in the homes of Agrarian farmers. Did each of them dedicate themselves so zealous to honoring the object of their livelihoods? It was like a businessman or entrepreneur back home pinning a frame of the first dollar they made in a special place of honor… wait, scratch that. There were examples of people who actually did that.
Other than the surfeit cherry decorations, Miss Jubilee’s guest room had all the comforts I needed to feel at home, or as close to it as I would ever get here. I reclaimed the adventure pack that I had unconcernedly thrown in through the doorway (since impacts didn’t do anything to jumble the contents inside) and set it beside my bed before stripping myself of my duster, hidden blades, shirt, pants, boots, and gun belt (Which I inserted into the drawer of my nightstand where it was out of sight, as a discreet precaution). The hat I positioned over the lamp. It was mildly amusing for me to note that cowboy hats made even inanimate objects seem that much cooler.
I then expended about ten seconds mumbling curses as I rifled aimlessly through my pack and pulled out some lavish nightwear that Rarity had made for me and insisted I wear to bed while on the road, guilt tripping me into obeying by sniffling and asserting that I wouldn’t want to spurn all of her hard efforts just for the misplaced sake of my manly pride or some nonsense like that. My pajama’s (though Rarity preferred the term loungewear) consisted of a two buttoned satin nightshirt that depicted an eventide scene where the sun was sinking beneath the horizon, the line of which was just below my Adam’s apple along the collar. The velvety pants continued that scene over a moonlit ocean, its light gleaming in white streams as the sea waves crested and waned.
I missed the days when I could sleep in the buff without being judged, but Rarity made these clothes comfortable enough that it was a petty complaint. I cannot count the number of times that Starswirl and I slept under the stars with damp clothing from either the sweat or fording a raging river in the Dreamy Vale. Sometimes we went to sleep after suffering a bloody encounter with the Acolytes or their hired cronies. There was no shortage of excitement to be experienced in the bygone valley.
My head was slowly sucked into the downy feather pillow as I drew the quilted sheets over my body, my mass creating an indentation in the springy mattress of the bed. As an inveterate habit, I pored over my next course of action (other than getting some sleep that was), factoring in the unfolding events as they came to me. Braeburn and his lover had fled from their respective homes and endured no less than three hundred miles of scorching, arid desert to get away from the hostilities beginning to brew between their peoples. Braeburn might have been cleverer than I conjectured, but I was reasonably sure that he did not suspect my true reasons for being here. Once he did though, I did not expect that he’d willingly go back without some convincing… of which Applejack could do in spades. I would have to limit it so that Braeburn was rendered physically, if not mentally, intact.
That left the Buffalo Brave girl, Strongheart, who I had not met yet and was essentially a wild card. All I knew about her was what Cherry had told me, that she was an avid reader and hungry for knowledge of the outside world, which I could use as an incentive for her to play ball. She could shed some valuable insight into the ways of her people and how they might plan to wage war on the settlers as retribution for their losses, which the settlers were innocent of (As far as I knew, anyhow). The question of how I’d deal with the desperados would have to wait until I was further south. I would have to rely on Miss Jubilee to provide us the means for traveling to Appleloosa without arousing any undue notice on us. Appeased with the products of my rumination, I let my mind drift until the gentle embrace of sleep overtook me and my eyes flittered shut.
⁂
I came to in that blank expanse called the Conception Canvas and breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t technically holding. After that dream that wasn’t a dream on the train ride to Dodge Junction, I was a tad wary of what I might encounter in my sleep tonight. Looking around, the scenery was its default environment of classic nothingness. Despite the desire to replace the blandness with something that had some flair, my creative tanks were running low on fuel. So I conjured up a leather reclining chair and was recumbent upon it. In my right hand was a glass of Cointreau, since the taste was reminiscent of the orange peels that I loved to chew on as a kid.
“Greeting, Zenith. How dost thy quest fare?” Luna’s voice whispered to me from all around, like she was the wind and I was caught in her gust.
‘Here to check in on me, is she?’ While the implied lack of trust was a nuisance, I knew that this was probably the optimal method for keeping me on track.
“Princess Luna” I gave a curt forward incline of my head to express my respects, “My quest fares well. Applejack and I have arrived at Dodge Junction without external incident and made contact with Agent Jubilee. Though there are some complications that could potentially stymie my progress in ensuring a state of peace between the southern settlers and Buffalo Braves”
Luna materialized before me in a turbulent swirl of shadow and screeching bats, “Thou utter the truth? Tell us what form of ‘snag’ you have come across that has hindered you so” She emphasized with air quotes. It was always adorable to see the Princess get with the common vernacular, owing to that impassive tone of hers that was nearly as inscrutable as mine.
I sipped at my dream liqueur, “It’s a minor detail, all things taken into account, but this small detail has unknowable ramifications for my mission”
The Princess conjured an exact replica of her night court throne and seated the royal posterior on it, “Cease with thine dancing around the issue, we art in a foul mood tonight”
That much was clear, “What’s wrong, Luna?”
She scowled, “It’s Discord. That treacherous trickster duped us into believing he was at his station reducing the stacks of paperwork that the latest tax enactments for thine projects have spawned” She rubbed at her temples, “Now the problematic task has fallen to us, and we art currently engaged in this whilst simultaneously communicating with you. To believe our old nemesis had the nerve to stitch together such a shoddy likeness of himself to misdirect us!” She insinuated that her intelligence had been insulted.
“Discord is not of the soundest mind, nor judgment at the best of times” I listed in deadpan, “But that does not make him stupid. Nor was he deceiving you with fully mischievous intent” I drained the remainder of my Cointreau, “I was calling in a favor from him yesterday, which required his attention and his personal presence”
Luna’s eyes narrowed, “What manner of favor did he grant you?”
A cocktail table rose out of the blackness beside me and I placed the emptied glass on it, “Remember our shared adventures in dreamland? How many of our opponents would use weapons that spit ‘hellfire and brimstone’ as you first described it?”
“Verily” She replied in the affirmative, “Those were the advanced firearms that we pray the Gryphondrians never scrounge up the intelligence to innovate. Such killing potential should not wind up in the hands of potential enemies”
Now I was the one doing the scowling, “Clarify that last statement for me, please?”
Luna shook her head, “It can wait until thy business in the south has been concluded”
I snorted, accepting this for now, “Discord and I combined our brands of magic to corporealize a weapon with which to counteract these gun toting brigands operating in the south”
Luna did not approve of this unknown deal, “Be wary, Zenith. The boons that Discord bestows are not without their pitfalls”
“First Celestia and now you!” I exclaimed with exasperation, “It wasn’t some poisoned gift wrapped with a pretty bow, Princess” I retorted, “It was a favor, and Discord is reformed. It wouldn’t kill you to show him some trust in him every now and again, would it?”
She wouldn’t change her mind on this, “You do not have the history with him that my sister and I have had, Zenith”
“I don’t like him any more than you do, Luna. But I believe in second chances more than I believe in holding a grudge” I said quietly, “I didn’t just call in a favor with him, you know. I spent a virtual week inside of a dream world where I trained with my latest weapon, so I wouldn’t have to learn how to use it the hard way. I learned a little bit about who he was before he became the eccentric man you know him for today”
“And you trusted him by his word?” Luna scoffed derisively, “Perhaps you are not as wise as my dear sister credits you for”
I ignored that jab, “He had no reason to lie to me. In fact, if I gleaned anything worthwhile from his past, it’s that he may have come into contact with one of the shards housing the fragments of the Great Dissonance”
This got Luna’s attention, “What makes you so sure about this?” She asked in a guarded tone.
“Did you ever wonder why he is a self styled avatar of Chaos?” I answered with my own question, “We may never know who the fateful islander was that picked up what he thought was a jet black rock that had washed up on the shore, but I do know that Discord is the man whose consciousness emerged from it”
Luna sat bolt upright, “If this is the case, then he is even more dangerous! We ought to have the watch on him doubled… nay! Tripled!”
I held up a hand to mollify her, “Hold on, hold on! I understand that there is a possibility that he may have been influenced by whatever he found in that fragment, but I don’t think that he should be deemed a malicious threat”
“And why not?” Luna snapped at me, “How could you of all people support him? Your very purpose in our world is to rid us of the threat the Great Dissonance represents to us all!”
My expression darkened, “You don’t need to remind me of my duties, Selene” If Luna was affected by the invocation of her birth name, she hid it expertly, “Tell me something, and forgive me if this seems on the philosophical side… but is it better to be born righteous? Or to become righteous through great effort?” I quoted a variation of Paarthurnax’s wisdom. That was one cool dragon… and not just because he dwelled at the vertex of the tallest snowcapped mountain in Tamriel.
This query stumped the Princess, who did not respond right away. So I picked up the slack, “Personally I think the end result is the same for both, but there is a higher merit to the latter. Discord is a strange individual, and misunderstood as well…” I looked at her sidelong, “Does that ring any bells?”
Luna frowned at the comparison, “We are nothing like him!” She insisted, “We may have been driven by bitterness and jealously towards our sister when we became the Night Terror, but we only had-”
“The best of intentions for everyone?” I finished for her, causing her to flinch for the first time, “There’s a saying involving a road to hell which is paved with those. Believe it or not, Discord had those too when he usurped rulership over Arcania”
“He made our subjects miserable!” She shouted, getting to her feet, “Under him, nothing functioned as it should have! The Sun and Moon rose and fell at his whim! The spells of the Stellar Magi failed, the weather resisted each of the Valkyrian’s attempts to bring it under control, and the Agrarians cultivated monstrosities whose fruits were either unpalatable or had adverse effects! There was nothing redeemable to be found in the Arcania that Discord wrought!”
“And I do believe that he grasped that by the end of his reign. Chaos by its very nature resists having control asserted over it. What Discord was trying to achieve when he ‘borrowed’ management of Arcania was to improve everyone’s humdrum routine lifestyles by introducing a small degree of flair and excitement into their lives. But by generalizing the spread and effects of the chaos, people grew miserable in lieu of being joyful, so Discord sought to micromanage it and tailor it to everybody’s specific preferences. If he had the time necessary to complete such a monumental undertaking, history could have taken a very different turn for Arcania. Instead he tasted the rainbow of harmony and was set in stone. If he felt that his subjects deserved the effort required to add some spice to their lives, he would have resisted a lot harder than he did when you returned to reclaim your thrones. Otherwise he would not have yielded rulership of Arcania without putting you and your sister through the grinder” I explicated to the Princess, including what I speculated from his side of the story.
But I might as well have been talking to myself for all the good it did. Luna’s face was flat and unreadable, though her mercurial eyes spoke volumes that her countenance did not.
“We were never pleased with your similarities to the Lord of Chaos” Luna began, “When we first infiltrated thy dreams to take a closer measure of thy character, we were alarmed that you shared his proclivity for randomized change, even copying his gestures for it” She exhaled tiredly, “But in time, we came to appreciate the inherent beauty to be found in the constructs of your mind, even in its more chaotic manifestations. They were… fun to experience” She admitted somewhat bashfully.
I was hopeful, “And we can always enjoy those dreamscapes whenever our schedules permit. So does this mean you’ll lay off in antagonizing Discord? I don’t care for his bothersome personality, the same as most of us do… but Fluttershy vouches for him, and I value her judgment of others… even those as unbalanced as he is” Even if she has some difficulty acknowledging that some people are set in their obstinate ways.
“We are not done making our point, Zenith” Luna chided me, “Your interpretation of chaos had elements of rationality embedded into it. There was a method to the madness… whereas Discord brought arbitrary change and forced it upon others who had no desire to be a part of his experimentation. If he really wished to make chaos a positive aspect in our subjects’ lives, then he should have taken an individual approach to it. We do not fully trust him, nor do I feel we ever will. Perhaps it is our unfortunate history that prevents us from taking that step, but our interaction with that irritating man is thankfully limited to a few governmental functions and official balls with the nobles. You would have been a superior chaotic avatar” She murmured that last part.
I kneaded the flesh above the bridge of my nose, “Suit yourself, Princess. But we should not discount the likelihood that Discord’s very existence detracts from the Great Dissonance’s power” Heck, he might have even reduced the number of shards I’d have to isolate and contain.
“Or he is an extension of the Great Dissonance itself” Luna verbally parried, “I will be keeping my eye on him, regardless of this conversation”
“That seems like an exercise in unnecessary stress” I warned her, “Discord will only use that as an opportunity to troll you” As he’s already done, and with a slipshod dummy no less! Poor Luna… she’s going to bite off more than she can chew with him.
“Thy abundant confidence in our ability to adapt to shifting circumstances is heartening” The Princess dryly quipped, “We still retain a few surreptitious spells for cloaking our self from undue eyes. He will not be aware of our presence, anymore than the mouse is aware of a hawk observing it from above”
Interesting analogy, but I had the impression that Discord was one of the few people who looked up.
“Discord is more capable than any mouse” I told her, “Do not provoke his ire more than what is necessary to discover that there’s truth to my words. Buried somewhere in that crazed skull of his exists a sliver of humanity, which is adequate enough to covet companionship… even friendship. Fluttershy saw this potential within him and acted as his rehabilitator when no one else would, even if it might be to her own detriment” Her immense kindness is truly inspiring.
Luna let out a neutral huff, “What type of firearm did he craft for you?” She inquired, changing the subject.
I let it slide, knowing how dogged Luna could be with much of her deeply held opinions, “Here” I conjured its dream equivalent and tossed it to her, “It’s called a revolver. Though this version is powerful enough to earn it the Magnum designation. The ammunition is loaded into a revolving cylinder, hence the name. This one seems to chamber a .44 Magnum caliber cartridge, which is the diameter of the bullet being chambered. However, it’s significantly deadlier than a conventional .44 round, which is beefy to begin with, having both a faster bullet velocity and greater mass being discharged. If I were to fire this at a human being and score even a glancing hit on their extremities, that limb would shear clean off. Its capabilities exceed that function, but I won’t overwhelm you with such ballistic banalities” I listed its specifications, even though Luna didn’t possess the context to make sense of it. She had only seen representations of it in my mind, and feasibly the firearms that the men to the East had contrived.
Luna’s forehead wrinkled as she made out one of the details on the side of the barrel, “Is this… our sister? Why is she depicted in such a lewd bodily position?”
“Discord thought it would be amusing” Which was only half of the truth, since some deeply suppressed part of me thought it was amusing too. I respect and maybe even feel a notion of devotion to the venerable woman, but I could still have a lark, even if it came at her expense.
The Mistress of the Night ground her teeth together, “And you did not berate him for belittling our sibling in such a disrespectful way?”
“Disrespectful from your and likely his point of view perhaps” I replied, “But to me, it demonstrates that your sister can be the epitome of sensual allure. If she wanted to be, she could be this world’s version of the Goddess Aphrodite… in terms of sex appeal anyhow”
She was skeptical, “What could you possibly know of our sister’s voluptuary physicality?” And mayhaps was even a little jealous of how openly I extoled her sister’s appearance, if I wasn’t mistaken.
“More than you’d think” I riposted, “Did you know that your sister can be mind-blowingly seductive if she puts her back into it? Literally. Her posturing to me after Discord put something in her tea just to screw with me almost had me in paroxysms, and I was raised to be resistant to those kind of temptations!” I vociferated. Although whatever incense Celestia was burning did a disturbing job of chipping away at my inhibitions. If I hadn’t flushed the tanks of my magical reserves to turn myself intangible and escape her clutches, I shudder to envision what would have ensued. I imagine a drawn out process along the lines of death by one on one Snu-snu. I might die happy, but I’d still die.
“Discord did what?” Luna rumbled dangerously, apparently not minding the revelation that her sister could up the seductive charm in the most unanticipated of ways. Did she know of this beforehand perchance?
I wagged a hand in the air, “He’s already been punished sufficiently for it, I assure you. In the manner of mountains of paperwork and restricted magic to deal with it” I still wanted to slap him with a fish, but Celestia didn’t understand the Veggie Tales reference and therefore turned it down. Maybe one of these days I’d feed him a face full of trout.
Luna derided this disciplinary action, “We would not have been so lenient. Were it up to us to decide his punishment, he would wear an enchanted millstone around his neck that would impart a shock every time his thoughts strayed towards surfeit chaos”
“Harsh” I remarked, “But I can see where you’re coming from” Doubt it would discourage him though. If anything, he might actually enjoy such a thing.
She levitated the Magnum back over to me, even though such an action was meaningless here, “Do not let the killing potential of this weapon cloud your judgment, Zenith. The invention of firearms and their myriad uses on the battlefield has only served to augment the Gryphondrian nation’s arrogance, which is quite an accomplishment. Take it from us”
I received the ornately engraved revolver anyway, “Fanning the flames of my curiosity will not help me focus on my mission, Luna”
She was unrepentant, “You will have plenty of time to douse those flames when we send you to Gryphondria as one of our emissaries by the first month of the new year”
Okay, now she had officially made it worse, “You know what? I’m not even going to allow that to bother me” My Jimmies had been rustled, and I was discontent for it.
“Excellent” Luna said in a tone that was practically a smirk, “Now we request that you apprise us of the unexpected snag hindering your task of ensuring that war doth not occur between the settlers and the braves”
“Right” I groused, still not over having my curiosity get cock-blocked, “Applejack and I made it to Cherry Jubilee’s Ranch without incident. The Agent in question was very inviting of us and sat us down in her kitchen for some tea as we discussed the guests she was harboring in her upstairs guest room. She told us about the circumstances surrounding her finding them taking shelter in her orchard from a dangerous dust storm that had blown through there recently. Then she dropped a bombshell on us”
Luna’s face lowered, “Prithee. We do not know this word. What is a bombshell?”
“A shocking revelation” I defined for her, avoiding the morbid reasoning behind its etymology, “This one takes its form in that the daughter of the Buffalo Brave’s Chieftain is early into the first stages of pregnancy, and it’s heavily suspected to be Braeburn’s child… though neither of them know it yet” At least, that’s how I hoped it was. The situation was complicated enough as it was without their emotional noise being added to the equation.
Luna hid her surprise well, with it only manifesting as a slight twitch on her lower lip, “We see…” She uttered, “This could indeed change things”
I lifted an eyebrow, “How so?”
“My sister wanted you to bring Strongheart back to her people as a sign of goodwill, with the ulterior motive of convincing her to speak against the mounting hostility towards the settlers, who we believe are innocent of these killings and kidnappings”
“Can we be perfectly sure of the settler’s innocence though?” I asked, playing the devil’s advocate for a moment, “Whoever these outlaws are, they must be basing themselves near settler towns and dressing to seem the part. How else could the Braves accuse them of these violent acts?”
“Sound logic” Luna acknowledged, “But faulty. We have eyes and ears in each of the active towns in the frontier lands. None have reported any mass groups of armed men passing through. It might be that they are making their domicile somewhere out in the desert wastes. Though it’s reasonable to expect that they’ll occasionally send a man into one of the towns to retrieve supplies to sustain themselves and their hostages. It would challenging to detect them that way, as strangers passing through are a common occurrence”
“Alright then” I absorbed this, “So how does Strongheart’s pregnancy alter things? In your opinion, that is?”
“Our sister would still want you to go ahead with the original plan” Luna anticipated, before cracking a thin smile, “But she is not the only figure of authority in this land. We would have you hear what we wish you to do”
I motioned for her to go on.
“Strongheart is betrothed to another in her tribe” Luna stated that which I already knew, “But if the child being knitted in her womb was sired by Braeburn, then they must end this arrangement with haste”
“Wouldn’t that just cause further friction within the Buffalo Brave’s ranks? Especially if I’m present to argue for this?” I could handle myself around bloodthirsty men. But I’d rather not have to lethally defend myself if I didn’t have to, and the only way to stop men with the bloodlust in them was to kill them.
“Perhaps” Luna conceded without worry, “But the symbolic value of a wedding between Braeburn and Strongheart could be crucial in maintaining peace between settlers and natives in the long run. And Strongheart’s father, Chief Thunderfeet, is a staunch traditionalist. If he learns that his grandchild is a product of the union between Arcanian and Buffalo Tribesmen, he will agree to an annulment of her previous betrothal or bring dishonor to the memory of his ancestors”
“And if he’s pissed at finding out that his daughter’s purity was ‘defiled’ by an Arcanian? Or if her betrothed learns about this? They’ll be absolutely enraged” I posited to her, “I can only see that ending with blood being spilled” That is, if Applejack doesn’t save them both the trouble of bashing Braeburn’s skull in first.
“Thou shalt be close by and on hand to ensure that this scenario doth not happen” Luna stated casually. I was unsure if that implied assessment of my abilities should have been flattering or portentous.
“Regardless of whatever course of action you choose to pursue, the ultimate goal remains distinct…” The Princess intoned, “Prevent loss of life between native and settler. Find who is responsible for the atrocities being done to the Buffalo Braves and deal with them appropriately. We suggest dragging them before the Chieftain with their lips loosened so as the clear the settlers’ name”
“I’ll keep that in mind” I replied honestly, “Before I wake though, I would like to consult you on something sensitive. As in… between us”
For a moment Luna was perplexed, “What concerns do you have for our appraisal, Zenith?”
I scratched idly at my chin, “How versed are you in dream related matters?”
The unamused expression I received from her was my answer.
I rumbled with my throat as an aside, “Right… stupid question. I need your input about a dream I had earlier on the train ride to Magiville from the Krystal Kingdom. Were you conducting your dream magic at the time?”
Luna shook her head, “We only actively monitor the dreams of other whilst at night, for that is when the majority are asleep. So no, we could not inform you if there was anything out of the ordinary about thy slumber”
“Hmm…” I vocalized tentatively, debating on whether I should bother following through with this and settling on just doing it, “I had a dream that afternoon, a very peculiar dream”
“All of the dreams attributed to you are peculiar, Zenith” Luna remarked jokingly, having seen and even participated in many of them herself.
“Laugh it up Luna,” I said, irked at how dismissive she was being, “but this was no ordinary or even extraordinary dream. This was… extremely different”
She motioned for me to go on.
“You see… in this dream of mine, I was another person. Not myself as I usually am” I explained carefully, “But it is still me in control… for the most part anyhow. The same goes for my thoughts and emotions”
“Thou keepeth emotions underneath that stoic exterior? Color us surprised” Luna remarked playfully.
“Not helping, Princess” I hissed, completely serious, “So I’m this person whose body conforms to my will like a well worn glove. There are instances of thoughts and inner commentary that isn’t me… but isn’t atypical to my character either. I was also in a world that’s more or less the same as the one I originated from, though with substantial disparities politically and socially. The government is domineering and overly controlling of every aspect to its citizens’ lives. There are innumerable cameras, devices that visually monitor areas within their field of view, mounted everywhere. If the person on the viewing end sees anything that they think goes contrary to the government in any way, they flag them for their superiors and the offending party tends to ‘disappear’, only to wind up in some government owned facility to be reeducated and indoctrinated in the ways of the state. They either come out changed… or in a body bag” If the government even gives them the respect of a proper burial over a cremation, that is. That world had some screwed up dark secrets.
“A troubling society to be sure” Luna commented, “Though what makes you confident that this is more than a mere product of fancy?”
That Luna could speculate that all of the negative details from that dream could be born from my mind was vaguely affronting, but I could understand why she might believe that.
“It was more visceral than any of my prior dreams, like I was actually there in the flesh… or someone else’s flesh I should be saying” I corrected myself, “What bothers me the most though… is that there is continuity to this dream. I’m reminded through others that I had done something that left ripples in the world. Something that I swear I had done in another dream… on the very night before I met you and your sister” The softness of Octavia’s girlishly adorned sofa still echoed in my mind, along with how ticked off Daring was with me for spending the night at her place. I feel kind of like a jackass for not considering how jealous she might get given her blossoming affections towards me, but it was that or otherwise I never would have been able to pursue my relationship with the alluring, coffee loving musician whom I cherished highly.
I resumed my expounding, “Every so often, one of my opinions about a detail in the world or on my avatar would clash with the inborn sentiments of the person that I’m controlling, resulting in a pinchy sensation in my chest. In rare incidents, there’s bleed over from our personalities and it’s impossible to be certain who holds the reins then. The name of the person eludes me, and I was too focused on the instinctual objective at hand to uncover what it is. But I felt his thoughts occasionally echoing in our head, I felt his satisfaction when I personally ended the life of a man who had murdered his father under orders from the government, there was even some lust that he suppressed when encountering a fellow runner whom he was on tolerably familiar terms with” Though the woman was kind of cute in my opinion as well, “What we definitely shared however, was a desire to stick it to the man, so to speak” And boy did we. With our message to the public, there was bound to be some major political waves.
Luna digested this for a minute before making a request, “May we examine you?”
I consented to let her look into this with a nod. Luna shuffled closer to me before hovering her hands just over where my temples were. Though she casts no spell (so far as I could tell), I feel something akin to her aura probing at my own intrinsic nature. Naturally, being the way I was, there was automatic and persistent resistance on my part as I pushed back opposite to her influence. Luna made an inarticulate grunt and politely asked that I lower my defenses so she could accomplish whatever she was about to do. I acquiesced, seeing no point in making a fuss out of it. It was an indescribably queer feeling to have her magic pulsing throughout my quintessence. The closest I could liken it to was being submerged in electrostatic, ice cold water without the wetness to accompany it. The fibers of my being were plucked one by one until one of them produced a dissonance that was more akin to an intuitive impression than a sound.
Luna frowned as she finished conducting whatever deep scan of me that was necessary to discern what the issue was, “This is… unprecedented. Your spirit has a drifting anchorage to this astral plane, Zenith”
I crooked my head and sent her a dry look, “Can you put that in simpler descriptors, Luna? The parlances of your subtler magicks are still somewhat of an enigma to me”
She expelled air through her nostrils in an aggravated snort and made hand gestures to aid her in getting her point across, “Your corporeal body permanently lingers in this world, but your incorporeal being… your essence… is able to detach and contemplate the immeasurable vastness that I now know exists beyond the cosmic veil because of you. Based on what you’ve imparted to me, your soul seems to gravitate towards company most similar to yourself in mannerisms, latching onto other beings living in these separate worlds. These dreams you speak of… are not specifically dreams. You are…” She paused as she thought of a fitting name for it, “Void Walking”
‘First a Starwalker… Now a Voidwalker. And I used to bemoan my life being ordinary’ I mused. I couldn’t complain about that being true today.
“Okay… I can… I can get used to this, I guess” I reassured myself. My spirit was only departing my body and co-inhabiting it with someone else’s body in another world, no biggie. I probably should avoid informing her that Discord is a deciding factor in the reason why I would be in for a whole heap of these not dreams in the future. She hated him sufficiently by now. No need for me to loan her additional kindling for that fire.
“We envy thy composure when faced with such unsettling news” Luna told me, perhaps to cheer me up, “You are without doubt the most unique individual to grace our world, and other worlds too it appears. I used to question the wisdom of the watchers above when you came to us. This portentous, wisecracking individual who was suppressing so much from our higher senses so effortlessly. We distrusted you then…” She was moderately shamefaced.
I didn’t hold it against her, “You made the right call, Luna. Trust is to be earned, not given freely without performing a background check, which is what you did” “And you have more than earned my trust, Zenith” She affirmed with a heartwarming tone, “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve learned a few things from my time with you. You’ve shown us that our adherence to our usual regimen is too rigid. We must adapt to the changing circumstances as they present themselves, as you do. It is not often we can say that we are caught off guard by your unorthodox tactics in the ring of honor”
“I still feel a bit guilty about backhanding you with a feint” I admitted, remembering that fast paced and furious bout (Which all of them were). Every Royal Guard present sucked in their breath and went tense as wooden planks as my underhanded blow knocked the sovereign of the night off of her feet with my blade leveled at her throat before she could recover. Though to be fair… our positions were often reversed. She did have a millennium worth of experience over me, after all.
Luna laughed and dismissed it, “It was a duel, and anything goes. The victor of the match must employ whatever advantage they have to secure their victory. Honor means next to nothing on an actual battlefield, which you no doubt understand as I do, having fought the Acolytes of Chaos inside the rotten den they slithered out of to wreak havoc upon the land” There was an unexpected amount of leftover venom in her voice, even though that cult had been defunct for centuries now.
“That organization is dead… Selene” I declared, using her birth name again, “I saw to it alongside Maelstrom and her men, all of whom fought like Lions” With their valiant assistance, the Acolytes never stood the ghost of a chance.
“We remember Maelstrom dearly” Luna recalled fondly, “She had bravery in her that went above and beyond her responsibility as a leader of soldiers. She opposed those politicians in the midst of her own people in how they should be treating those who literally dwelled beneath them, even though she received little else but scorn and ridicule from the callous Senate, whose members were either milksops or self inflated narcissists. She was a woman who would butt heads with her own father, the most respected soldier and Commander that the Valkyrians had in those days, and would continue to do so with her hotheaded brother once he assumed the mantle”
“Did you know that she spoke of you, often in fact?” She asked out of the left field.
“By name?” I reacted, dumbfounded. My identity was not for Maelstrom to reveal!
“No… she hoarded the pleasure of knowing who you were to herself, regardless of how hard we pried for it” Luna put my fears to rest, “When we inquired into what inspired her to fight for justice, even if it brought her into conflict with her own blood. She made reference to a man with eyes as red as blood who had a profound impact on her, despite not knowing him for a prolonged period of time and with him initially being her foil in the town of Mirrimare. He helped her to realize that living up to her father’s expectations of her was a fruitless endeavor, and that her real loyalties should be to the creed of the Skyborn, which stressed integrity and virtue even if the world was unwelcoming to such values. Looking back, it should have been obvious to us who this figure was… crimson eyes are ultimately a rare feature amongst our people” She recognized in hindsight.
“She guided us in a foreign country where Starswirl could not” The Princess went on, “Showing us the lay of the land while simultaneously keeping tabs on her brother’s movements. When the moment was opportune, she led us to the mount where the heads of the three clans were face to face with the Windigo menace” There was a flash of reminiscent excitement in her eyes that I had come to associate with battle lust, “The struggle with the Windigoes was fierce, as we had interrupted their feeding process and those creatures did not take kindly to being denied. But with our newfound power and the strength of our combined magic, the icy spirits were vanquished and the auxiliary figureheads of the clans were saved. They were immensely grateful for-” Her face flushed, “We beg your forgiveness. Judging by thy expression, this is a tale that thou hast acquainted thyself with”
“No, no. Don’t apologize” I chuckled, “You have a gift for weaving a tale I’ve already read about in such a way that I want to hear it all over”
She opened her mouth to respond but must have sensed something, for her mood dropped slightly, “Our time for discussion is at its conclusion. Dawn approaches… and with it, new trials”
Her words proved true, as the blank canvas began to splinter and crack as lurid streams of light burst through the gaps in ever increasing intensity. In milliseconds there was enough of it to drown out my view of the Princess.
“Remember our council regarding the star-crossed lovers!” Luna called out to me, her voice sounding distant, “There is more than one way to shear a sheep!”
“It’s to skin a cat, Luna!” I called back to her, undergoing an odd need to correct her. I couldn’t discern her response as the remnants of the black mosaic splintered into innumerable pieces.
⁂
The first rays of daylight struck me in the face like a mace from the heavens, and I unleashed a groan to match the intensity of my displeasure. I flung the sheets off of me and got up to stretch, letting out a yawn wide enough to swallow several flies in the process. If I had to guess, I’d approximate the time of day to be around six or seven in the morning. The muted crowing of a rooster at some nearby farm only reinforced this.
Without further ado, I got to stripping down and putting on my dressings in anticipation for today. I inelegantly stuffed Rarity’s elegant nightwear into my adventure pack before reaching into the drawer where I had stowed my gun belt and strapped it on next to my other accoutrements, taking care to twist it around in such a way as to hide the shiny chrome bullets studding the false leather loops lining the majority of the right side. I doubted that it was meant to kill werewolves or the like (‘Do they even have that breed of monster here?’), at least concerning the color of the casing, but they looked neat. I also idly wondered how Discord managed to get the false leather to secrete its own natural oils, for the belt was never without its sheen.
As my waking mind was in the middle of getting back up and in running condition, an important reminder buzzed itself onto my mental viewing screen. My magical senses reached out and scanned the guest room adjacent to my quarters. The spells I had cast yesterday were still in effect, though their magical fuel reserves were only half and hour away from depletion. I could have tinkered with the spell matrices to siphon off of the ambient magical energy in the environment, but those enchantments were always tedious and time consuming to put in place, so I forwent them. My scans came back negative, with no signs of immediate activity having been recorded over the previous night. In other words, all was quiet on the western front.
This meant that Applejack had not stirred yet, which was both cause for relief and concern. The stunning spells I had cast on her had worn off by now, so the chances of her waking before I did were significant. I must have underestimated how tired Applejack must’ve been from the trip here, for when I cautiously opened the door to check in on her, I could see her slumbering form atop the mattress, her every breath causing the sheets to rise and fall. I didn’t recall tucking the cowgirl in before, so I could deduce that she had woken up while I was sleeping, realized the folly of making trouble when everyone was in dreamland, and went back to sleep herself. I could only hope that her ire had adequately cooled to avoid murdering her cousin the second she laid eyes on him. With how pigheaded I knew the woman could be from past experience, I wasn’t exactly holding my breath.
Grabbing my hat from the top of the lamp, I casually flipped it into the air to land on my head as I strode out of the door and into the hallway. A faint gurgle came from my stomach as it notified me that I was feeling peckish. I could hear activity in the house, so it was clear to me that I was a late riser. The smell of bacon being cooked on a stovetop assaulted my nostrils before I had set foot on the steps leading to the bottom of the stairway, worsening my hunger by a sizable margin. I subconsciously increased my pace and hightailed it to the kitchen. Standing in front of the stove and monitoring the progress of the bacon was Cherry Jubilee, who was humming a delightful tune to herself as she worked. It evoked memories of when my maternal grandmother used to whip up a scrumptious breakfast just for me when I visited for the summer. There was an unfastened cardboard package sitting on the counter where it was convenient for her, so I knew that she was cooking in bulk.
‘A wealthy businesswoman like herself and yet she’s still considerate enough to selflessly provide for the guests living under her roof.’ She had me intrigued, to say the least. She would be registered on my ‘Persons of Interest’ list for certain.
No one else was in the kitchen and the table showed no signs of usage, so Braeburn had either had an early start to his workday or was not yet awake himself. I moved into the range of Cherry’s peripherals and she acknowledged my presence with a nod. She had traded her old dress from yesterday for a rancher’s outfit consisting of a white shirt with a red corduroy vest with cherries embroidered into the cloth.
“Well goooood morning, Zenith!” She chirped, enthusiastically elongating the positive word, “Hope y’all slept fine!”
“I sure did” I averred as I took the same spot at the table as I did the day before, “Learned a few things while I was at it too”
“It’s not often that dreams are a learning experience!” She twisted her neck to smile at me, “Though for once, I can say the same mahself. I had a lovely idea come to me last night. It ought to help out with your plans to return our mutual friends to Appleloosa while still coming off as legitimate to anyone poking their nose in where it don’t belong… like those wretched Flim Flam brothers” She muttered darkly.
This got my heed immediately, “I’d like to hear the details of this plan of yours” The presence of the Flim Flam brothers here in Dodge Junction would have to wait. It was auspicious that my companion wasn’t up and about yet. I doubt Applejack would be too thrilled to hear about them either.
Cherry deemed the crisp state of the bacon to be sufficient and slid a few slices onto four plates already loaded to the edges with eggs prepared sunny side up along with corned beef hash. I was practically salivating as I beheld this amazing old school breakfast bounty, and from the smug look on Cherry’s face, she knew it. I’d yet to see hide or hair of Strongheart, so intent was she on remaining in her room, so I interpreted this to mean that Braeburn was not yet out in the fields. Either Cherry’s workers clocked in later than I did during my stint at Sweet Apple Acres, or she was purposely holding him back.
“Here you are, sugah” She said, carrying all four platters and sliding mine over to me, “Eat up. You’ll be needing your strength for the journey to Appleloosa”
I wrapped a dining napkin around my neck like a proper gentleman, “Journey? What about your other guests? I can’t leave here empty handed”
“If all goes well,” She finished setting the table before taking her own chair, “you won’t be. Has Applejack awoken?”
“No” I used my fork to begin cutting into the eggs, “For someone who is usually whacking away at her apple trees before the crack of dawn, she’s very sleepy this morning” Almost suspiciously so, “Why do you ask me this?”
“Because she’ll play a pivotal role in discouraging Braeburn to refuse accompanying you to Appleloosa on a wagon train escorting livestock” She explained between bites of bacon.
I chomped into the egg, using the napkin to wipe the yolk dribbling down my cheek, “What does herding have to do with my objective here?”
“A pretense for my employees to protect my assets, is what it is” She answered, biting daintily into some hash, “Not a ten minute’s ride from here is another ranch belonging to a business associate of mine named Tagalong Thorpe. He’s a kindly man, but despite his years he never developed the wisdom to discern that most of his ‘friends’ are anything but friends. Otherwise, he’d drop his ill advised, one sided dealings with the Flim Flam brothers like a bad habit”
She paused to swallow before resuming her speech, “You look like you recognize the name of those distasteful con artists”
“I do” I confirmed, “Albeit I don’t know them personally. Applejack ranted once or twice about them after a few bottles of hard apple cider though. It’s impressive how creative she can get with her curses while still keeping them kid friendly as to not corrupt her sister or get her curious about the anatomy of the human body before Cheerilee can touch upon that subject in depth” I still remember how awkward my formal and informal education about that was.
Jubilee laughed, “Oh, I can imagine that with enough of her inhibitions removed, she’d put salty seadogs to shame with her tongue!”
“Indeed” I asseverated, “I was bumfuzzled as to who these people she ranted about were before she told me this story about when they tried to take over her family’s farm during the opening days of cider selling season. She made reference to this event taking place after an incident of personal weakness that she had no desire to talk about” Which I assumed was the one that happened here, “As efficient a cider making unit as the Apple family based at the fringes of Magiville was, they just simply did not have the stores of cider necessary to meet the town’s demands. Then ‘Outta the blue, these fellers came ridin’ in on some fancy wheeled contraption spittin’ steam and fillin’ the air with the grindin’ of gears, spewin’ some nonsense about their automated machine bein’ able to mass produce all the cider our customers could ever drink’ as she put it”
Jubilee tittered, “And here I was thinking you could never emulate the rough and rugged Agrarian dialect!”
I shared her mirth, “It helps to have a keen ear for voices. Anyway, the Apples are standoffish towards these uninvited newcomers, which isn’t made any warmer thanks to the threat the brothers’ machine meant to their cider business. The Apples stand proudly and declare that their handmade cider will never be outshone by anything squelched out of the cold, unfeeling udders of a machine. The brothers notice the dissatisfaction of their customer base and take advantage of the cowgirl’s hubris to issue them a rigged business arrangement”
I trailed off for a second to receive the proffered cup of cherry juice from my generous hostess and depleted its contents in a single gulp, “The Flim Flam brothers initially wanted to ‘partner up’ with Apple family by turning them into their supplier while they created the cider with machine. The catch to this deal is that the future quantities of cider are to be sold under the Flim Flam label and the Apples would only receive twenty five percent of the profits. As a fellow businesswoman, you probably understand that this uneven share of the revenues is unacceptable for long term business viability, and Applejack tells them this” I do not believe the Apples would ever accept being relegated to mere stock suppliers to begin with.
I set aside what’s left of my breakfast as I commit to the rest of the tale, “Since the Apples wouldn’t join them, the Flim Flam brothers alternated to beating them instead, and spend most of the next day doing so with their machine, outmatching the meager production of the small but tight knit family. When Applejack discovers that the conniving brothers had been skimming from their apple trees to make their product without their approval, she forbids them from selling their cider at all and commands them to get out. Which miffs both their customers and their rivals alike, though for differing reasons” Rainbow Dash was especially disappointed, with fate denying her so much as a sip of cider at every turn. It was actually quite funny to hear the disheartened despair in her voice, though I obviously kept this to myself.
Jubilee watched me raptly, “Retorting that the Apples are afraid of a little fair competition, the brothers goad Applejack into accepting a bet with high stakes. If she and her kin could produce a greater number of cider barrels than they could in the span of an hour, they would leave town and never attempt to sell apple themed products again. However, if the Apples lost… they would have to fork over a portion of their orchard and give the Flim Flam brothers exclusive rights to the cider selling biz. The matriarch of the Apple family was steamed that her granddaughter would risk a significant amount of their orchard for the sake of one-upmanship, but was also confident in their superiority versus some clanking work of metal and shrill whistles”
“So the competition was set. The Apples were on one end,” I tapped twice on the tabletop in emphasis, “and Flim Flams on the other. To further prove that they were willing to go through with the bet, the Apples graciously allowed the brothers an exception to use a section of their orchard for the purposes of the event. Applejack would knock down the fruits from the trees, young Apple bloom would collect the fallen goodies, Granny Smith would sort the quality apples from the inadequate ones, and Macintosh would have the dual task of powering the press and casking the cider” I said with admiration for the stolid man.
Macintosh was truthfully remarkably talented at multitasking, “The family ironically went to work like a well oiled machine, producing a single cask of cider within ten minutes. Unfortunately, in that timeframe, the Flim Flam brothers had rolled out three casks of ciders, and that was with their machine switched on mid settings. Applejack’s circle of friends saw this and could no longer stand waiting on the sidelines, so they voiced their readiness to chip in. Flim and Flam wanted to proclaim this a violation of the rules so they could win by default, but Twilight pointed out that the rules of the bet stated that it was Applejack and her family against the brothers and they were honorary family members, to which Applejack tearfully concurred”
I grinned at Twilight’s moment of cleverness, “Evelyn, that is the mayor, validated this loophole and the competition got exciting. Twilight’s administrative skills manifested themselves here are she assigned Fluttershy the task of knocking loose extra apples, Pinkie the task of collecting those extra apples, Rarity the task of sorting those apples with her eye for quality, and Rainbow the task of adding her energy to support Macintosh’s efforts. Twilight herself freed Macintosh from the responsibility of the casking with her magic, which was guaranteed optimal efficiency in that niche. Sensing the threat that the increase in laborers represented, the brothers made their first, and fatal mistake. They foolishly set their machine to max production and in doing so, overrode the installed automatic quality assurance mechanisms that ensured that the machine produced acceptable quality cider. The vacuum device on the machine began to indiscriminately suck up everything along with the apples; twigs, branches, leaves, and even rocks!”
Jubilee winced at the idea, since she was about to sip from her glass of cherry juice as I imparted that to her, engendering her to change her mind and put the glass down, “Sorry, I should have timed that better. But this went about as well as you’d predict. The brothers from out of town won, though not by a significantly large number of caskets. Applejack, bless her honest soul, admitted that the brothers won fair and square and relented to them their cider selling rights. But… the story isn’t over yet. By sacrificing quality in order to multiple quantity, the customers who had been eagerly awaiting to indulge their cider related vices had one taste of the foul drinks that were laced with a helping of nature and spat it out. Needless to say, the decision to boycott Flim Flam apple related products in the town of Magiville was unanimous… so they would find no future profits to be made there, even if they placed quality over quantity again”
“Once more demonstrating how business savvy she was, Applejack reminded the brothers of the longstanding costs associated with maintaining an acreage of orchard that size and how their bank accounts would suffer for it if they could not squeeze a single bit from it. The brothers grumbled and attempted to sell it back to her at an increased price to sate their greed, but Applejack scoffed at the two shysters and turned her back on them. Knowing that they had lost this fight through and through, they returned it to her family at no charge and booked it out of town to swindle some other place out of their hard earned coins” The best part of the end result was that the Apples finally had enough cider to satisfy everyone, even Rainbow.
“Unluckily for us, they chose to do it here” Jubilee moaned, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised”
“I observed some men loading their crates of fertilizer onto the train as we came in” I elected to share with her, “Their loads seemed to be overstuffed, as one of the crates tumbled from a man’s arms and made a solid noise unbecoming of a crate that supposedly filled with fertilizers”
“That is odd” Jubilee acknowledged with a frown, before shaking her noggin, “But it’s probably nothing. Using magic to enhance the soil that nature provides us with is folly anyhow, though I would expect no less from those two money grubbing dunderheads. That crate was likely their refuse from a failed enchantment that they’d intend to sell at market regardless”
I wasn’t quite convinced that it was nothing, but let it go for now, “I wouldn’t put that past them. So have these unspoken arrangements with this Thorpe person been finalized? Or do I need to speak with the man first?”
Cherry dabbed at her grease stained lips with a napkin, “Oh I had one of my ranch hands deliver the message to him already, though talking to him in person wouldn’t be amiss”
“What does this plan of yours entail anyhow?” I investigated, “While I enjoy suspense as much as the next person, I revel having knowledge of what I’m getting into more so”
“As I’ve told you, you’re going on a journey to Appleloosa. But it won’t be via your typical train…” She waited, “if’n you catch my meaning”
I did not, “Need some context here, Cherry”
She breathed out a sigh, “Time for a little storytelling of my own. When Appleloosa had its first altercation with the Buffalo Braves, they began to experience some severe food shortages, as the Braves started forcibly burning down portions of their apple groves to free up the stampeding trail they used in the far past. Many people here in Dodge Junction had family members living in that town, and the natives frequently harassed and preyed on the train lines to that region. So we settled for the old fashion method of shipping them supplies by way of a wagon train” She clucked with her tongue, “The trip lasts about a week, and that’s without the distractions and difficulties that are known to plague wagon columns. It was a darn shame too, for by the time they got there, the issue had been solved and peace declared between settler and native”
“And history is set to repeat itself, it seems” I groused flatly, “So how does this wagon train thing aid me in spiriting Braeburn back to his hometown?”
“I was getting to that, sugah” She admonished me, “With their friends and family in jeopardy once again, the folks of Dodge Junction are organizing another wagon train to bolster Appleloosa’s fortitude. Tagalong Thorpe had vociferously stated that he was going to contribute a fair amount of his cattle to this drive, and he’s often a man of his word”
She smiled a jaunty smile, “I happen to have my hands dipped in a lot of cookie jars. In fact, half of Thorpe’s cattle are legally my cattle, and so somebody has to accompany the wagon train to ensure that my investment reaches the town safely. Why, I imagine that it would require a few people under my employ to accomplish this. For instance, yourself… and Braeburn”
“I like the way you think, Cherry” I applauded her, “But will Braeburn agree to this assignment?”
“He’s been savoring my cherry pie long enough that he’s indebted to me, although I would only stoop to extorting a favor from him as a last resort” She sounded abashed, “Bless his earnest, hardworking heart. He’s much like his cousin in that regard. But Braeburn can be pretty thick in the skull at times. He won’t suspect the real meaning behind this…” Her eyes drifted questioningly towards mine, “His beloved however, might”
“She does not necessitate coaxing” I put forward, “The second she finds out that her man is pulled back into the danger zone, she’ll either attempt to sway him from his perceived duties to you and his town, or she’ll stick by his side”
She closed her eyes, “Us liking the other’s reasoning is mutual, Zenith” She nodded slowly, “And I’ve seen how she dotes on him when she thinks I’m not looking too. She won’t run the other way. The only prerequisite is clinching Braeburn’s cooperation”
“Then we are of a single mind” I levitated my plate over to the sink after forking the remainder of the food into my gullet, “Leave the coaxing part to myself and my companion. Where is he now?”
“Spending the next hour with his romantic partner as per my commands, doin’ Celestia knows what, before he has his breakfast and officially hops to it” Jubilee answered, “He wanted to finish harvesting the southwest tracts of my orchard, but I saw that he was plumb tuckered from doing that the night before, so I allotted him another hour to rest. I can’t come up with additional excuses to anchor him in the house without making either of them suspicious though, so you should be quick in getting him on board with the plan. The wagons will depart from the staging grounds south of the train station at ten o’clock tonight!”
‘Never been part of a wagon train before. Ought to be charmingly rustic’ I thought up the end words in Fancypant’s voice, which should have illustrated how I was secretly, and classily, excited for this.
I was about to speak when my senses were suddenly and violently assaulted, inducing me to jolt back in my seat and hold a hand to my head.
“What’s wrong!?” Jubilee exclaimed, her features contorted in anxious fear. From the recognition on her face, she had a good guess as to who it was.
“It’s Applejack. She’s-…arrgh” I groaned as another strike viciously electrified my senses, “She’s awake, and raging like a bull inside of a china shop from the feel of it. I need to run some damage control before she breaks loose. I’ll be back in a few minutes!”
I rushed out of the kitchen, leaving a flustered Cherry behind as I flew up the stairs three steps at a time. I prayed that the hasty sound of my footfalls weren’t detectable from down the wing where Braeburn and Strongheart were shacked up, but had no time to reflect on it. I severed the spell from my senses, essentially deactivating it as Applejack’s next ram caused hairline fractures in the wood of the door. With my spell no longer reinforcing the door’s integrity, it wouldn’t be more than two or three impacts away from being pried off of its hinges. So gathering up my courage, I timed the cowgirl’s next charge on the door and flung it wide just as she was about to make contact. The startled woman that passed through the entrance had too much momentum in her step to cease her reckless charge and ended up plowing into the hallway wall. She let out an ‘Oof!’ and rebounded into my arms.
“Morning, Applejack” I greeted her with a tranquil voice, “I’ve got news you should hea-”
She cut me off by whacking the back of her head into my nose before pulling out of my grip as I stumbled back. I felt a warm liquid dribbling down my left nostril and experimentally swabbed at it with an index finger. My finger came away bloody, and I stared at it mutely for a moment, remembering that I was still squishy enough to bleed when struck sufficiently. A few feet from me, and glaring at me with a fury I’d rarely seen in the past, was a red faced Applejack, who was breathing heavily from the exertion of repeatedly colliding with a magically barricaded door.
Despite the injury to my person, I wasn’t even mad. If anything, I was impressed that she had it in her.
‘I probably deserved that’ I mentally inferred, ‘I did cast the spell that knocked her out’ There were debts to be settled here.
I wiped my nose dry with a sleeve to stem the blood flow, “Not bad, AJ. It’s not everyday that someone manages to literally bloody my nose. Did you get it out of your system? Cause we’ve got a few things we have to do before ten o’clock rolls around”
Applejack apparently hadn’t purged her system of anger, as she wordlessly sprinted forward at me with purposes that could only be described as belligerent, vocalizing a battle cry that would have been discouraging for the unversed. I saw the haymaker coming from a country mile off and intercepted it by inserting my forearm at the fulcrum point of her swing.
“You only get one free shot, Applejack. Now stand down and cool your jets,” I reiterated firmly, “or you’ll get a taste of why the Acolyte’s assassins all failed to deep six me” I warned her.
Ever the iron willed one, Applejack ignored this advice and attempted another punch, this one aimed at my midsection. I spun around it while wrapping my leg underneath hers, applying force to the back of her shirt collar with an elbow, and tripping her up. She fell face forward, growled in discontent, and scrambled onto her feet for a second go at me. I parried a straight cross punch downward and caught her the follow up attack by her wrist, allowing me to push her away from me and close the gap. I averted a jab to my ribs by parrying to the side, exposing her own ribs to a retaliatory slap that wouldn’t hurt her, but keep her on her toes. I had the urge to lecture her on her mistakes as we sparred (possibly instilled in me by Luna, who did the same whenever we dueled), but didn’t want to chance cementing her umbrage with me. I was no mentor anyway.
The next three offensive moves were met with similar results as I utilized either blocks, parries, sidesteps, or a combination of two of those three to foil her. Applejack put a lot of oomph into her swings, pivoting with her hips to impart the most power to her strikes. But the downside to that was that she displayed a paltry measure of finesse, committing all she had to her attacks while leaving herself open in the process. She seemed to be a brute force kind of gal with single mindedness combat wise, and needed allies to protect her flanks or else she would be vulnerable. It made sense, as she typically had her friends to back her up when events got gritty. But that was not the case presently, and it showed as I embarrassed her regularly.
Growing frustrated, she switched up her strategy by mixing kicks with punches, each with all of her considerable Agrarian muscle thrown behind them. She was admittedly swifter than I credited her with being a minute ago, but that mattered little in the tight spaces of the hallway. Blocking Applejack’s kicks were like withstanding bucks from an irate donkey. They had the impetus behind them necessary to budge me from my solid stance, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to absorb her unfocused flurry of blows without giving into the impulse to return some of my own to her pressure points. I adjusted my fighting stances as I saw fit and maneuvered strategically to prevent this tantrum of hers from spilling into the other wings. We never strayed longer than ten feet from our original starting position.
The apple farmer may have been ferociously assaulting me, but in her mind she had an acceptable reason for it, so I tolerated this exercise in stress relief for now. In some ways I admired how she didn’t hesitate to act when she perceived the need to do so, though her judgment could have benefitted from some polishing. I saw an opportunity to end this scuffle as Applejack unwisely launched herself into a flying kick directed at my face. I seized her by the thigh of her outstretched leg and used her own momentum against her, rotating in place and slamming her into the floorboards, effectively neutralizing the livid cowgirl. The action jumbled the contents on a hallway table a couple yards from us, throwing several faded family photographs out of alignment.
‘Finish her!’ My inner commentary commanded in an imitation of Shao Kahn’s voice.
‘Shut up brain’ Though it did enunciate a pertinent argument.
With the woman dazed, I flipped her over so her stomach was kissing the ground. I tore at the length of rope that she left coiled on her belt and bound her hands behind her back after wrestling with her for their ownership, “Stop struggling” I adjured with aggravation evident in my tone, “I will truss you up like a Thanksgiving turkey if I have to!”
I had her securely pinned in place with a knot that clamped her wrists together that I had researched in my off time. With half of my weight immobilizing her legs with one knee and the other half on her spine, she was hard pressed to wiggle her way free. Never the less, it did not stop her from trying, and the way her recumbent body wiggled when under duress was almost sensual. A recessed aspect of me had a forbidden thought that this whole thing was pretty kinky, but I shoved that in the iron maiden of self restraint as soon as it manifested.
She screeched with futility as she struggled with her bindings, “Damn you, Zenith! Why’d you get in mah way!?” She demanded, her cheek smushed to the wood grains of the floor.
“Because you were in mine” I retorted, “If I allowed you to have words with your cousin in public about how he’s been conducting his love life, you’d put our mission here at risk. Thanks to Miss Jubilee, I have a hunch that he and Strongheart are very likely being hunted by parties with less noble intentions than ours. Causing a scene like you were about to do might have tipped any who were listening off, and I would not tolerate that. You forced my hand, Applejack”
She was still, “I’m stunned that ya’d turn on me like that”
I couldn’t hold back a witticism from escaping my mouth, “I believe that was the point” I deadpanned.
It took her a moment to comprehend that, and when she did she was not amused, “This ain’t no joke ya consarned lout! You had no right to interfere! It was Apple family business!”
So I wasn’t considered extended family to her like her other friends? I was hurt by that, though not grievously, “And what about the Crown’s business? Is that somehow not as important? Because there are some five thousand settlers down south who’d disagree with you once the natives found out their Chieftain’s daughter was in the ‘enemy’s’ clutches because you couldn’t restrain yourself for ten damn minutes”
At that she slackened in her bindings, “I hadn’t thought of that” She admitted in a softer tone, “But I need to speak with mah cuz, Zenith. One way or another”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m all for you speaking with your cousin, though for reasons of my own” I offered as consolation.
She was skeptical of this, “Why’d ya suddenly change yer mind?”
“After putting you to bed, Jubilee and I bandied words over a glass of wine or two” I filled her in on last night’s discussion, “She apprised me on the circumstances surrounding her guests and gave me a clearer picture overall. I met your cousin himself, as a matter of fact”
“Did you sense an enchantment on him or anythin’?” She randomly asked me.
“What?” I wasn’t expecting that, “No. Braeburn is under no enchantment but his own! What possessed you to think that?”
Even though we were inches apart, Applejack refused to look me in the eye, “I don’ trust that Strongheart. I still haven’t gotten over her kidnappin’ Bloomberg!”
I did not think of AJ as someone who would retain a grudge, especially over a misunderstanding that happened a while ago.
“You mean that one apple tree you uprooted so you could plant it in Appleloosa? You realize that the natives had their rationale for doing that, don’t you?” I shot back, “They may not see themselves as Arcanians, but the Princesses do, so they have legal precedent in matters of property zoning near their lands. That orchard was obstructing a route the natives used to herd their namesake buffalos, and they did not take kindly to it. Besides, it all worked out, didn’t it?”
She huffed, “Maybe, but that don’t make a cowpatty’s worth of significance now, does it? The natives and settlers are both grindin’ axes, and Appleloosa is goin’ to be the town to take the brunt of the natives’ fury… again”
“That’s why we have to mitigate the damage by returning Strongheart to her people” I argued, “But the only way we’re going to smoothly accomplish that is by getting your cousin to board a wagon train heading for Appleloosa tonight at ten”
“I doubt he’d wanna leave his precious Strongheart to go back to the place where he belongs” Applejack criticized with a healthy amount of sarcasm.
“He will if Jubilee tells him to as his semiofficial boss” I countered, “He’s working here to earn his keep, yes? What if earning his keep constituted keeping an eye on some cattle that Miss Jubilee technically owns that will be traveling south with the wagon train?”
She took this with a pinch of salt, “That sounds like a roundabout way of lyin’ to him, Zenith. If Braeburn is goin’ on that wagon train to return to Appleloosa and his townsfolk, he needs ta do it with a clear conscience”
“And that’s where you come in” I shifted some of my weight off of her, “You’re going to be the one to give him that clear conscience. Jubilee has him cooped up for another hour before starting his workday. I mean to lock you two in a room together to have your family chat, while also guaranteeing that he will be on that wagon train with us tonight”
“You want me to persuade him?” I nodded to her, “I s’pose I could do that. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m still madder than a rabid hound at you Zenith!”
She just wouldn’t let it go, “What do you want from me, AJ? Flowers and a box of apologetic chocolates?”
The woman mulled it over in her head before coming up with an idea, “All this roughhousin’ has me feelin’ a little bruised. You can start apologizin’ to me by givin’ me a back massage later, kinda like those masseuses that Rares occasionally gushes about after a trip to the spa”
For the second time today, Applejack had stumped me, “A massage? Sure, why not? It’s not unreasonable” It would be doubtlessly be like kneading a brick wall, but I had the finger strength.
“And then I want ya to promise to help me and mah brother at our farm once the snows melt, for a week” She attached to the agreement, almost smugly.
‘Oh… hell no!’ I did not want to go through another grueling week at the Acres again! I wasn’t cut out for enduring grueling manual labor for extended periods of time.
“I don’t think I’ll be here after the snows clear, Applejack” I leveled with her, “The Princesses have an additional assignment for me after we stop the hostilities between the natives and the settlers” An assignment that they’d left me to stew in the dark over, but I had my hunches about the destination that it would bring me to.
She sensed that I was telling her the truth, “As soon as you get back from that then. You not bein’ around to help out on the farm has left an absence… one that even Granny felt”
“It’s nice to know that someone, somewhere sees me as a workhorse instead of a person with their own busy agenda” I drolly commented, judging her to be calm enough to restore her freedom of movement. I stood up and undid Applejack’s bindings before giving her a hand up, which she accepted as she got to her feet.
“You know I don’t jus’ see you as a useful set of hands on the farm, Zenith” She assured me, “Though you are definitely an asset to Sweet Apple Acres. But truth be told, the others miss ya too. Granny Smith confessed that your company and sharp sense of humor was most refreshing, Apple bloom adores you an’ I think her friends are of the same opinion, even Big Mac once confided to me that he missed the chats and occasional music sessions you two used to have”
That was a shocker, ‘Even Mac? I’m touched’
I processed this mutely after she had related it to me. To be honest, the closest substitute I had for the life that I used to share with my family… was with Applejack’s family. The bonds of kinship uniting the people living in that farmhouse brought an internal warmth to me that I didn’t know I had been missing until I felt it again. Rural life just didn’t suit me though, and I hadn’t the heart to turn down Applejack’s implied proposal then and there.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, AJ” I deflected, “But in the meantime, we have a task to carry out. Come along”
The cowgirl obeyed and we found ourselves back in the kitchen we were in the previous afternoon, older and hopefully a tad wiser than before. Miss Jubilee had left the still steaming food at the table for Applejack and Braeburn. She herself was occupied with the dirtied dishes of food that she and I had consumed. They were flecks and chunks from remnants of bacon and eggs that had to be rinsed off and sanitized before they could be shelved, and I felt contrite for not offering to do that myself, like the gentleman that my parents taught me to be. But there was naught I could do about that now.
“Thought I heard a ruckus up there. The two of you have a disagreement?” The orchard owner inquired as she scrubbed at the oil streaked dishes with an old fashioned soapy sea sponge. The fact that she had plumbing that could pump out water through a normal faucet was an eye popper out here in the desert. Then again, she was richer than the majority of the inhabitants of Dodge Junction, so such amenities were to be expected.
“We worked it out” I shrugged, “Isn’t that right, Jackie?”
“Don’ call me that, Zenith!” She reproached me, before smiling sheepishly at Cherry, “I wasn’t behavin’ as I should’ave yesterday, Miss Jubilee. An’ for that, I apologize. Mah Granny raised me to be better than that”
“You gave me quite the fright, Applejack. But I understand that your feelings about your cousin’s recently acquired… paternal status,” She phrased carefully, “may have affected your percipience. You’re forgiven”
She paused in her dish washing and turned to us, “Speaking of whom, Braeburn ought to be down before long. So if you don’t have a scheme for cornering him to conduct your ‘convincing’, I’d suggest coming up with one soon”
“Think you could do it, AJ?” I consulted with her.
“A’course I can! And if he resists… well,” She mashed her fist into her palm, “I’ll kindly remind him who was the stronger of the two of us when we was kids at our family reunions”
That’s all the confirmation I had to hear, “Then we need only lock the two of you in a room together that I can soundproof to keep our ‘other guest’ unaware” I tapped a finger to my chin, “But how do we lure him into that room without alerting him to our intent?”
“I can help with that one” Jubilee interposed, “When any of my workers clocks in, the first thing they do is visit the storage shed next to the dried fruit silo to equip themselves. It’s just right for your purposes. It’s private, isolated, and since all of my workers have already gotten to it, it’s empty”
I graciously bowed my head to her, “You have my gratitude for presenting such marvelous ideas as we require them, Cherry”
She twisted away to hide what had to be a blush, “Aw, you’re too sweet on me, Agent Zenith. I’m just doing my duty as a fellow Agent of the Crown”
I noticed in my peripherals that Applejacks was trading bemused glances between us. Her brow furrowed as she tried and failed to determine how our relationship was on such familiar terms so speedily.
“Well, once Braeburn eats his fill and makes his way to the tool shed, we will be waiting for him” I motioned at the table to Applejack, “You’ll have to take that to go, in case he’s down sooner than we predict”
My instructions snapped Applejack out of her internal musings as she absently obeyed, picking up the cooling plate of food along with the silverware to eat it with.
“You best clear the air between you two” Cherry opined, “I’d hate to be a wedge in your relationship before it even blossoms”
I exhaled hopelessly, “Of all the problems facing me, that’s the only one that makes me truly nervous”
Cherry laughed, “You’re a perplexing man, Zenith, if us women and our feelings are a bigger bane to you than matters of the state”
“In my defense, the other issues I face aren’t as temperamental in comparison” I quipped in return, “Nor are they as liable to give me prolonged hell should I drop the ball”
She waved her sponge hand at me dismissively, “You’ll be fine, sugah. It’s tough for us women to stay mad at the object of our affections for longer than a week”
“My relief is palpable” I snarked, “I will be sure to bring AJ’s kitchenware back to you once we are done outside”
“Speak to me after you do, Zenith” Cherry bid me as I was walking out of the kitchen, “I’ve got something to show you that I was informed by letter that you might appreciate”
“Will do!” I called back, making my way out the door and onto the gravel of the artificial opening inside of the orchard.
The vaunted orchard hands, consisting of both men and women (though the gender skew oddly favored men by two thirds, but when factoring Jubilee’s tastes into the equation, it made an alarming amount of sense), shuffled about outside as they pushed wheelbarrows laden with ripened cherries of all colors, loading crates of packaged products onto carts to await shipping by train, and other duties as they meandered about the grounds. They all wore hats of varying styles, and I had a feeling that they wore them even when the hot rays of the sun weren’t shining down on everything. I set off in search of this dried fruit silo where the tool shed would be located, discovering it by the northeastern end of the clearing. I arrived to see that the cowgirl standing by the door of the shed had already devoured the contents of her plate, which was both impressive and sort of revolting, given how generous Cherry was with her portions.
I was appalled by her voraciousness, “Damn, Applejack… did you even give yourself time to savor that?” It was only a second later that I realized how richly ironic this was coming from me, as my family often asked the same of me when I all but inhaled my food.
It was an opinion we had in common, “After watchin’ you demolish what Cadence and Pinkie had to offer you after your mystery trip into the unknown, you’re in no position to poke any fun at me” She commented with a light pout, hoarding the plate close to her chest.
“Fair enough” I stretched out my hand, “Here, let me take that for you”
Applejack yielded the plate and silverware without complaint, “So you an’ Miss Jubilee…”
“Just fast friends, Applejack (‘For now, at least’)” I cut her off, “We’re both Agents for the Arcanian Crown, and I can’t help but feel like we share a camaraderie because of that”
“Friends you say?” Applejack was incredulous, “Never seen ya use that word so quickly before”
“Hardy har” I retorted, “It’s a word I use lightly in this situation, AJ. I’ve known her for all of twenty four hours”
“And yet you’re chummier than two peas in a pod” Applejack observed, “Is bein’ an Agent all that special to you? The Princess has only recently named you that, if I recall”
“Special Agent Zenith does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” I queried, rolling the title on my tongue like it was a piece of delectable hard candy, “Why so cynical, Applejack? Is the concept that I’m taking my friendship tutoring to heart so unforeseen?” There was mock hurt in my voice.
“N-no no, ah’m glad ya are!” She was abashed, “Heaven knows you’ve vexed us all with your aloofness. The real question is, why the sudden change of heart?”
I grinned rakishly at her, “You’re wise to remain suspicious. Part of it is genuine; the other part is an act. If I’m going to be an Agent that deals with sensitive diplomatic matters, then faking what I honestly feel about my relationships to pivotal figures in matters of intrigue is critical to staying ahead of the pack” I may have been new to the game, but not to the rules.
Her eyebrows knitted nearer to each other, “It’s a… ruse then? But that’s lyin’, Zenith!”
‘This again?’ Why couldn’t she just accept that perfect honesty was just as inimical as habitual lying?
I inhaled calmly and pinched the bridge of my nose with a free hand to avoid a migraine, “You are obviously not meant for dealing with the finer intricacies of diplomatic intrigue then, Applejack. That is why I am the appointed Agent, and you my faithful companion”
She seemed like she wanted to gainsay that, but we both spotted the silhouette of Braeburn in the distance approaching us. He was watching the ground as he walked, so before that blessing could change I ushered her inside and cast the sound proofing spell on the walls encapsulating the interior of the shed, which were lined with all kinds of equipment specifically designed for tending to a cherry orchard. I slid the plate and silverware into one of the widened unoccupied folds of Big Mac’s oilskin duster and leaned against the doorway leading into the shed, acting casually as Braeburn plugged the gap between us.
“Howdy, Zenith!” He chirped in greeting, clad in the selfsame clothing as yesterday (they were likely his sole set of clothes from living life on the lam), “Lovely mornin’, ain’t it?”
I hated small talk, “Indeed it is. Most mornings here in Arcania are, thanks be to the Dawnbringer” I praised Celestia half sincerely.
“Darn tootin!” He spouted with reverential fervor, “My boss is sober, my girlf-… I mean, my friend and I feel like our future is bright, and ah’m just in a happy mood today!”
He was exultant from the look of it, the poor fool.
“You gonna be joinin’ me out in the orchard today?” He questioned, brushing past me and placing a gloved hand on the door latch, “Miss Jubilee expects punctuality from all of her hands, and by no means do I wish to disappoint her! Owe her too much as it is” He chuckled.
“Not exactly” I answered, “And I’m afraid you won’t be doing any orchard work this morning”
He was midway through with the swing of the door when the second component of my implied meaning registered in his brain. But by then it was way too late for him.
“Hello, cousin” Applejack crooned in a low, dangerous tone from the darkened depths that would chill your blood, “You an’ me need to have a little chat”
I could all but see the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as he froze like a deer in the headlights. Before he could turn face to get the hell out of there, I shoved him inside and magicked the door shut, locking it for the duration of five or so minutes, which should have been abundant for Applejack to converse with her cousin. His frantic pounding at the door was muffled by the spell, so nobody without my keen sense of hearing would notice the muted, terrified shouts of the man trapped within. I didn’t envy him. Applejack could be scary when she put an effort into it.
“Best of luck to ya!” I saluted at the doorway with my hat, before sauntering off to Jubilee’s house to return the dish that Applejack did a remarkable job of cleaning in her own way.
Jubilee was waiting in the kitchen as ever, though she had evidently completed scrubbing the dishes and left them to dry on a rack beside the sink. I reached into my duster and removed the oily serving device and accompanying silverware. I made a tiny mental note to wipe out the grease lacing the pocket of my borrowed duster before it became grimy.
“Thank you” She said as I handed over the plate, “Are Braeburn and Applejack getting reacquainted?”
“Vigorously, I’d bet” I speculated in the affirmative, “Is his significant other still boxing herself in upstairs?” I was in no rush to meet her until it was mandatory for me.
“She has done nothing but seclude herself in her room since she arrived with him” She shook her head pityingly, “I can sympathize that she prefers to stay out of sight, in case the people looking for her come sniffing around, but the lack of social contact beyond myself and Braeburn isn’t wholesome”
It wasn’t an opinion that I concurred with, but I wouldn’t argue it with her, “So what was this thing that you were going to show me?”
Jubilee’s eyes lit up with barely suppressed excitement, “Oh, I just know that you’re going to love it!” Her hand shot out and grabbed at my own, bent on guiding me there herself. The abrupt physical contact was a bit jolting for me, but I swallowed the instinctive urge to toss her off.
She extracted two wooden cylinders from her outfit and pressed them into my hands, “Here. These newfangled doodads are labeled as flashbangs. Every Agent received them once they were put into production”
“We should thank the guy who made that possible” I suggested, diverted by this. I pocketed the devices for a later date.
Cherry swiped a glance at me, “What makes you think a man invented this?”
“Just a hunch” I told her.
We ambled along a dirt and gravel path behind her home, our footfalls shifting some of the dust that must have been leftover from the storm she mentioned. Not twenty feet from the house was a set of stables, and I wanted to slap myself for not comprehending what Jubilee meant earlier. Coming from the interior of the stables were the telltale huffs and snorts of equines.
“Miss Jubilee” One of the stable boys tipped his hat to her in respect.
She smiled, “At ease, Mister Farrier. How are my precious babies doing?”
Some of the immaculately brushed horses noticed the arrival of their mistress and nickered and whinnied in excitation. The orchard owner and her four legged friends must have had a close connection. It wasn’t far fetched for her to possess her own herd of horses. An independent lady had to employ a casual ride whenever she felt like escaping the confinements of her home. It was just that this particular independent lady had multiple rides to avail herself of whenever the necessity arose.
“Groomed and trimmed. As you can probably tell, they’re happy to see you, Miss Jubilee” The man grinned, adjusting one of the straps of his overalls, “Felicity and Mary were gettin’ a bit rowdy. Might need to take ‘em out to stretch their legs later”
“And our other guests?” She prompted, “Those magnificent creatures from the Royal Stables themselves?” She swept away any doubts I had left about my ‘surprise’.
“They are behavin’ themselves better than some of my kids!” He guffawed, only partly serious, “I must admit, I was afraid to lay a hand on them, with how intimidatin’ one of ‘em looks, but they are the most responsive breed of courser I have had the pleasure of lookin’ after”
He motioned for us to follow him, “C’mon! Come say hello to North Wind and Dusk Breeze!”
We trailed behind him, our way illuminated by cutouts in the ceiling of the stable that acted as skylights of a sort. At the end of the stables were a couple of stalls about twelve by twelve feet in dimensions, which was more than enough space for a large horse to move around without feeling too cramped. The enclosures were sealed shut through a simple sliding lock whose pattern repeated at the top and bottom of the gate just opposite of the hinges. Pacing about the floor of the stall on the right was what I’d swear was a carbon copy of Night Wind, though the fringes of his mane were tinged with flecks of navy blue and orange, which was accentuated by his midnight black coat. Beside his stall was a stallion currently in the process of chowing on a healthy mixture of grains, hay, and vegetables that were available in a trough that was subdivided into solid foods and water.
In spite of the pungent smell of horse, there was no stench of manure percolating in the air, which meant that Mister Farrier was either so competent at his job that he foresaw their tails lifting to do their business and intercepted them with a sanitized bucket, or that the digestive system of horses in this world was scarily economical with cutting down on waste. Back when I was adventuring with Night Wind and Starswirl, I never did get the chance to study my steed’s bathroom habits (Believe it or not, he would politely excuse himself and go for a trip to the woods to relieve himself, which wasn’t that often. The horse that is… not the wizard. His bathroom manners weren’t as refined). I assumed the stallion with the unique blend of colors in his mane was Dusk Breeze. He shared his ancestor’s slimmer build, and probably his temerity as well. He wasn’t as tall though, being a hand and a half shorter at the withers. Though being relatively unknowledgeable about the growth cycles of equines, I had no idea if he was done growing yet, so I couldn’t claim to be certain with authority. His ears flicked towards us as our footsteps became audible and he stopped doing his perimeter sweep to edge his head over the fencing of the enclosure. His similarities to Night Wind never ceased to astound me; even his eyes were the same twinkling brown! I overtook Cherry and Mister Farrier and stopped just shy of the horse who looked so much like my loyal, long since passed steed. I stuck out my hand slowly for him to sniff at; the hot air from his exhales washing over my skin as he familiarized himself with me. He did this twice before nuzzling at me with his nostrils, deeming me safe with the gesture.
Having established an incipient bond, I began to gently stroke at the white strip of his muzzle, “Hello, Dusk Breeze” I whispered his name, causing his ears to perk in recognition, “In another time, on another land mass, I rode with your ancestor against all kinds of threats to the common people. He never once lost his nerve,” That instance where we were surrounded by thousands of Grimworts notwithstanding, “and he never backed down from the challenge, in spite of the danger to himself. I don’t automatically expect the same results from you, but I want you to know that you are the one of the latest in a proud bloodline stretching to before the founding of the United Kingdom of Arcania”
He was as receptive to chatter as his ancestor, pushing his muzzle into my hand and whickering. I smirked once my brain somehow interpreted that (With the aid of magic, I’ve postulated). He had more pride in him than Night Wind ever did, stating that a stallion with a royal pedigree like himself had to have gotten his skills from somewhere.
“He seems to like you” Farrier remarked, having caught up with Jubilee, “He wasn’t so fast to trust me” He grumbled offhand, mildly envious.
“Indeed” Jubilee concurred with his assessment, “You seem to have a natural way with that creature, Zenith”
“I learned from the best animal caretaker in the Kingdom” I explained, thinking devotedly of Fluttershy, “One of her tips when working with most perceptive herbivores was to present yourself to be as unthreatening as possible” And the demure woman would know a thing or two about that, “Then you can either approach the animal yourself, or let them come to you. The latter demonstrates that the animal has put some measure of trust in you. The critical phase for fellas like this guy here is to let them sniff you, so they can recognize your scent for future reference. After that you should be on their good side for the foreseeable future”
I chortled, a joke of my own coming into my head, “It’s fortunate I haven’t wrestled with any cougars lately,” I glanced sidelong and pointedly to Cherry, “otherwise he would instantly shy from me”
I don’t think she was privy to my hidden meaning, “I don’t see how you would. We don’t get many cougars around here. There’s not enough wildlife out in the desert wastes for them to prey on”
“It’s a tough life out in the desert” Mister Farrier added.
I did not respond to that hackneyed phrase with words. Instead I moved on from Dusk Breeze to focus on his sibling, who was too busy indulging his gut to pay us any mind.
His elder brother, and reputedly the better of the two from Celestia’s lips, was without doubt the big brother. He stood a lofty eighteen hands high at the withers, or about six feet, meaning that his profile could be spotted a mile off when compared to other breeds. North Wind must have inherited the draft horse genes, because he was enormous. Even in the low lighting of the stables, I could spy thick cords of muscles that rippled underneath his dark grey coat as he rotated in place to take heed of my presence. He had many of the traits associated with the stout build of a medieval destrier, only he was bulkier than average. His neck was arched and as well muscled as the rest of him. He had a wide, muscly jaw and a highly symmetrical width between his eyes, granting him a decent field of vision. His sturdy hindquarters were powerful, and I was certain that as one of the Royal Steeds he was trained to stop, spin, make sudden turns or sprint forward on a dime. Also worthy of note were the pristine condition of his teeth, which were whiter and shinier than many of the field hands around here had. If he were decked out in full caparison or combat barding, I’m positive that North Wind would cut a truly majestic figure.
Unlike his younger sibling, this one wasn’t as eager for my attention, with him neutrally sizing me up with two quarter lidded eyes the color of an icy lake before reverting back to his eats. I did not know what it was about this solemn creature that fascinated me so (mayhaps North Wind reminded me of myself in some respects), but I was intransigent on making this stallion my next mode of living transportation.
“Applejack can acquaint herself with Dusk Breeze when we set forth for the south” I announced, before pointing at North Wind, “That one shall be my steed”
The aforementioned horse sent me a bored stare that lasted two seconds before he snorted and walked towards me, seemingly consigned to his fate.
“Don’t give me that dejected look” I craned my head to the side as I jocosely sneered at him, “You and I are going to accomplish great things together, you’ll see”
North Wind’s expression remained cool, his jaw undulating as he masticated his last mouthful of food. With a final swallow, he motioned with his head to a set of hooks on the wall that were holding up an ornate black leather saddle, possibly the one he came with when he was sent here from the Royal Stables.
The edges of my lips curled upwards as I comprehended the message, “Glad to know you’re as eager as I am” I addressed the stable boy-man, “Let’s get him saddled and ready to ride”
“Right now, Sir?” Mister Farrier squawked, “But I haven’t had the chance to wash him yet!”
I didn’t mind, “It’s fine. I’ve gotten accustomed to the smell of horse sweat” Night Wind got plenty of exercise during his tenure as my means of expeditious conveyance, and I’m sure he got even more than that with Starswirl and the Princesses clutching his reins.
The stable hand reluctantly obeyed and unlatched the gate keeping North Wind penned. The horse did not leave his enclosure the moment it swung open and patiently bided his time for Mister Farrier to lift his saddle off of the rack and strap it onto his broad withers. He measured my leg length with a fleeting gander and adjusted the stirrups accordingly. The setup lasted about a minute and a half, during which he viewed the saddle from behind to check that the gullet was see through, fit a bridle onto his head with a band of golden stars that composed the crown wrapping just under his ears, and was attentive to my steed’s body language as he did this. If North Wind started to fidget, or paw impatiently at the hay strewn floor of the enclosure, the stable hand would loosen a strap or two. Being a man of experience though, this did not occur that frequently.
Once he was done fitting North Wind for riding, he stood beside him and clapped his hand on the saddle, “There ya go! All ready for a jaunt about the orchard grounds!”
“I’m not going on a joyride, Mister Farrier” I corrected him, before looking to Miss Jubilee, “Would you kindly instruct me on how I might find the ranch of this Thorpe associate of yours?”
“I can do you one better, Zenith” She smirked at me, “I can show you there myself”
I could only raise an eyebrow at this, “Isn’t your presence going to be missed? What if your employees need your input on something?”
“P’shaw!” She eloquently dismissed my pertinent concerns, “That’s what I hired my managers for! Don’t mistake me; I do like getting my hands dirty and involving myself in my orchard’s internal operations. But after this long, I’m confident that my staff is competent enough to do things without me holding them by the hand like some nanny”
She sidled up to me and her expression became friendlier, “Besides… it’ll be an opportunity for us to spend time together on matters of vital importance, doncha agree?”
“And Braeburn? Or his roommate? What about them?” I continued to give voice to my doubts.
She wasn’t bothered, “Applejack is occupying him adequately, I imagine. And my other guest won’t be downstairs until lunch is served, and that’s if she deigns to vacate her room” She slid on some riding gloves that I didn’t notice her carrying before, “We ought to be back well before then”
“If you insist” I pretended to demur in acceptation. I wasn’t that opposed to having her along with me when I spoke with Thorpe, since he would trust someone he knew over someone he had just met.
She was pleased with this, “Mister Farrier. Would you saddle Felicity for me? I’m going out riding for a spell”
He complied, and while he was doing so, I guided North Wind out of his enclosure by the reins. I halted him directly under one of the skylights of the stable and examined the saddle. I wasn’t wrong to surmise that it came with him directly from the royal source. The dark coloration of the leather might not feel too wonderful after sitting out in the sun too long, but aesthetics wise it ticked every box. Hand engraved metallic plates depicting items such as scrolls, swords, and silver filigrees lined the trim and lent it an air of elegance reminiscent of history. The clasps adorning the straps had five pointed stars embossed into the age resistant, smooth material, alongside flowing scenes of nature and acorns suspended from branches. The seat of the saddle was cushiony, and as I hefted myself onto it, I found that it was plush for making endurance riding that much easier to put up with. The horn on the pommel of the western styled saddle was fashioned in the shape of Celestia’s and Luna’s dual Sun and Moon emblem intertwined in each other.
I must admit that being back in the saddle was a… comfortably familiar experience. I may have been new to horsemanship once, and would not consider myself beyond the level of an intermediate, but my skills as an equestrian were sufficient to direct North Wind forward with a click of my tongue. I’d have to ride him for a while to determine how he responds to subtle commands of the spurs on my boots. But I felt that with how responsive his ancestor was, he wouldn’t be that different. Looking to my side, I could see that the stable hand had did as his boss bid him and saddled Felicity, who was a palfrey mare with a palomino coat. I’m not sure why, but her silhouette reminded me of Daybreak, which then led to guilt as I had abandoned the injured creature in order to save Starswirl from being captured by the aggressive Skyborn. I’d never given much thought as to what her fate was, but a part of me hoped that she survived and was treated fairly under an owner that would not put in a tight situation like that ever again. It had me pondering as to what kind of creature I would be seated on if the opposite had occurred, and I was forced to abandon Night Wind.
Simply entertaining the idea had my heart in fits, and I realized with grim certainty that this world had changed me into something sappier. Perchance it was a positive transformation, as I had been repeatedly described as ‘without emotion’ (rather unfairly I might add) in my past by people who wouldn’t bother to go the extra mile to know me. Or perhaps I had just discovered one of the few things that tugged at my heartstrings.
“You two look larger than life together” Cherry’s voice broke me out of my musings as she pulled up beside me on Felicity, “Are you ready to head on out?”
I nodded, “Lead on”
Mister Farrier unbarred the wooden main doors of the stables and light from outside flooded in through the opening. Cherry wasted no time as she whipped the reins and had Felicity immediately take off in a gallop. I copied the motion via a verbal ‘hyah!’, and soon the wind was streaming in my face as I played follow the leader with the audacious orchard owner. We rocketed into the clearing in front of her home, catching the eyes of some of the orchard hands, the more curious of whom gave us a few seconds of their attention before returning to their laboring.
Cherry seemed to be challenging me to a race, as she had been constantly pushing her steed to increase the distance between us twofold as we galloped down one of the winding paths that connected Cherry Hill Ranch to the rest of the Dodge Junction countryside. Not wanting to be left in her literal dust, I literally spurred my horse onwards, putting him through his paces. I learned about my future steed with every second that passed. North Wind was a big and burly stallion, and yet he rode with better grace than I remember Night Wind could muster even when he was at a relaxed pace. What Night Wind was bereft in refinement though, he made up for in zeal, which I sincerely wished his stately descendant had inherited.
The split tail end of my duster that was draped over North Wind’s hindquarters when we exited the stable was now flapping excitedly, like a banner that was caught in a draft. I perceived a surge of exhilaration as we sped past row upon row of verdant cherry trees, and held it close like a dear old friend. As we broke through the tree line, I learned that we had taken a northerly bearing downgrade the hill. The trappings of civilization in the form of Dodge Junction were situated to our left, so far off that the buildings composing it were like miniature doll houses, with black ant like specks darting in and out of them.
North Wind had managed to overtake Felicity, having the longer stride, the energy, and the endurance to sprint circles around the smaller mare.
“Aren’t we in a hurry today!?” I shouted over the shrill rush of air once we were abreast.
As she laughed with joy, I understood why she had worn that practical rancher’s outfit instead of a dress. She had been planning to attach herself to me this day, mayhaps to act the part of an Agent as she was. The gal may have been getting on in years, but she wasn’t so decrepit that she couldn’t put her best foot forward and aid me in setting events in motion that would determine the fate of the southern settlers. I hadn’t seen that many settlers myself, as Dodge Junction was nestled right where Arcania could be defined as desert. I contemplated how similar the Arcanian frontier was to the American one that I read several books and watched countless movies about. To me, the trials of the pioneers moving west to achieve their dream of manifest destiny showcased true grit, and the resolve of the American spirit versus grueling odds. I guess my first real taste of that would be keeping the peace between settlers and natives.
I eased North Wind off the throttle and allowed Cherry to be in the lead, as she knew the directions to this other ranch and I did not. Roughly twelve minutes of scattering dust and sand in a cloud to our rears, the orchard owner and I came within sight of another ranch. Unlike Jubilee’s place of business though, this ranch was dedicated to the raising of cattle. In fact, we saw the wide open ranges of the fenced in fields before we ever spied the buildings. The land here must have been arable, for there was a smattering of grain crops that must have been meant to sustain the hundreds of steers and heifers that were grazing at the straw colored grass and whipping their tails at pesky flies. I wasn’t knowledgeable on cow breeds, but the lengthy, curved bones protruding from the bull’s heads unmistakably marked them as Longhorns. I refrained from breathing in too deeply as we probed the grounds, as this place smelled very much like a cattle ranch, if you know my meaning. Miss Jubilee, on the other hand, didn’t have so much as a cringe on her face, so used was she to the aroma of domesticated bovines.
Occasionally I descried that there were cattlemen here and there running buckets of food and water to the feeding troughs, fixing fences that had structurally degraded, or individually herding a cow to a building that seemed conspicuously like a slaughterhouse. Curiously, none of the cows had signs of branding on them, which would have distinguished them apart from cattle belonging to adjacent operations dealing in livestock. I passed it off as another moment of ‘It’s Arcania, crimes like cattle rustling are all but unheard of here’.
‘And yet, crime is the exact reason why I have been sent down here’ I thought, basking in the irony of the situation.
The ranch house belonging to the owner was one of the few spots here where there were trees to shelter one from the severity of the sun. It wasn’t as sizable as Jubilee’s lodge style home, but it had all the comforts of home that I recognized in the Apple’s home; including a rocking chair with an elderly person swaying on it. The aforementioned person was an elderly man that I would estimate was on the eve of entering his twilight years, or about his early sixties. He had stringy shoulder length cinereal hair streaming in curly waterfalls from his head. He bore some similarities visually to Wild Bill Hickok, if he wasn’t shot in the back, hung up his famed Colt revolvers, had lived to see old age, and shaved off his rugged mustache while he was at it.
“Where’s the foreman!? He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago! I won’t have any malingerin’ on my ranch!” He called out to one of his nearby workers, who was carrying two pails filled to the brim with dairy milk, all of it freshly squeezed from some heifer’s swollen udders.
“Don’t rightly know, Mister Thorpe” The sweat laced man answered, “But I remember one of the guys sayin’ he was thinkin’ of goin’ over to the Flim Flam brothers to work for them”
Thorpe, as he was identified, relaxed visibly, “Ah. Then… that’s all right with me. The Flim Flam brothers are probably just borrowin’ his services for a while!”
His boss didn’t see it, but I made out the disgruntled pail man roll his eyes, not thinking too highly of his boss’s skill in judgment apparently. This did not matter however, as our arrival had finally been noticed by Thorpe, who smiled as he saw Jubilee over my shoulder. He struggled a tad to rise from his chair, exhibiting that he wasn’t as spritely as he once was in his youth. Since he was at least twice Jubilee’s age, and this town hadn’t been established for longer than a century, it was quite possible that Mister Thorpe had seen Dodge Junction when it was a developing boomtown.
“Well bless my bones!” He remarked as we dismounted from our horses and he descended from his porch, “If it isn’t little Miss Jubilee come to visit!”
He embraced her in a hug, friendly feller that he was, “How are ya, darlin?”
“Not quite so little anymore, I fear” She said with blithesomeness, mirroring his smile, “We’ve come to discuss tonight’s arrangements?”
“Ah yes,” He nodded, “The cattle. As your man told me before dawn, I’m to allow a couple of your hands to lend their aid in escorting a portion of our cattle to those poor folks in Appleloosa?”
Jubilee wordlessly responded in the affirmative with an intoning hum.
Thorpe’s expression darkened, “Those durn natives” He turned his head and spat into the dirt, “Excuse my poor manners, but the Princess should have ran them out of this fair country centuries ago. Now that the country’s citizens are movin’ south to make a home on land that legally belongs to them, the natives are up in arms about it! T’aint right”
“There are two Princesses, Sir. Princess Luna has been restored to the throne some years ago” I gently corrected him, inserting myself into this conversation, “And both of them would sooner have peace before resorting to spilling blood on their Kingdom’s soil”
I left out that Celestia adjudged the Buffalo Braves as pseudo Arcanians themselves. Lots of old people were notoriously set in their beliefs, and I wasn’t here to ineffectually argue politics with a simpering Wild Bill lookalike who couldn’t discern that his hirelings were jumping the fence for the proverbial competition, albeit I doubted that he sold whatever it was that the Flim Flam brothers were peddling.
The man’s eyebrows shot into his wide brimmed, black bowler hat as he appraised me, “Ain’t he a biggun?” He declared to himself. He then extended his hand towards me, which I shook, “What’s yer name, Mister?”
“Zenith” I introduced myself, “I’m going to be one of the men supervising the transfer of cattle when we form a wagon train bound for the south”
“I can see why she would entrust this task to you, Zenith! Ya look strong enough to pull the ears off a Manticore!”
“It’s Gundark” I amended his statement with a smirk, “Strength is not the only quality I possess though”
“I don’t doubt it” He replied, trying futilely to wrap his mind around what in Sam Hill a Gundark was.
“Surely you understand my precaution, Mister Thorpe” Jubilee pitched in, “Being in business for as protracted a time as you have, risky ventures such as this can’t hurt but come with some insurance”
“A’course, a’course! Whatever waters your crops!” He was as amenable as Cherry described him, “I have the hardiest livestock already picked out for the journey. Beefy bulls, the lot of them!” He gesticulated in a nebulous direction to his rear, “I have them in a separate pen. Care to inspect them yourselves?”
“Might as well” I bobbed my shoulders, “We didn’t come all this way just to chat”
“Excellent. I’ll show you to ‘em myself!” He exclaimed with energetic fervor.
After we had hitched our horses to a couple of posts, we walked with Mister Thorpe along one of the rows splitting the pastures where the cattle were lazing or otherwise chewing on parched grass. As it got closer to midday, the temperatures outside in the Dodge Junction region were just shy of sweat inducing, and wearing a black duster only compounded the issue. The hot, moisture-less air reminded me greatly of home, during record degree summertime heat waves. If this was what the winter periods in Southern Arcania were like, then I shudder at the concept of experiencing a summer here. As we strolled with the aged man, he regaled us with tales of his life as a nascent rancher. His family was among those in a wagon train seeking to begin a new life in the relatively unpopulated lands south of the capital of Concordia. They were among the homesteader group that split from those that were bound for a patch of fertile land next to the Neverfree that would eventually become Magiville. The splinter group trail blazed a path that went through Rambling Rock Ridge and past a river that was later discovered emptied directly into the aptly named Horseshoe Bay.
After taking his initial measure, I decided that Tagalong Thorpe was a nice man, which was why I was confused that Cherry wrote him off as a pushover who made poor business decisions. His ranch wasn’t overflowing with cattle; mind you, and I estimated it as accommodating only about three hundred cattle, which was paltry next to some of the feedlots I glimpsed on rare family drives to San Francisco. Still, he was doing well for himself. His coffers weren’t overflowing like I suspected Cherry’s did, but he was content with what he did have, and I respected that. He exemplified that humble American yen for a peaceful self sustained life.
Having been the owner and proprietor of this ranch for forty odd years, he was entirely adjusted to the ripe, tangy odor of cow manure, inhaling with his mouth instead of turning to small sips of putrid air through my nostrils like I was doing. I resolved to pore over his chosen livestock with Cherry’s second opinion to notify me if anything was wrong before returning to Cherry Hill Ranch to receive an update from Applejack and her hapless cousin. A few meters out from a fading orange barn was the lot where Thorpe was keeping what we came here for. The cattle here were all steers, and longhorns at that.
Again, I wasn’t that studied in bovine topics, but I did recall that longhorns were good for a cross-country cattle drive like the one we were about to embark upon after sundown. They had a better sense of intelligence than other breeds, and had a gentle disposition that kept them out of trouble with their handlers. The former of which was likely enhanced in this world, given how all animals had an intuition than their counterpart cousins from my home world notably lacked. I marveled at how diverse the longhorns’ coat coloration was, ranging from tan to a zebra like white and black pattern that would have a Dalmatian’s head spinning.
“Here we are!” Thorpe announced, “Have yourselves a gander! Are they not the healthiest, most robust bulls you ever did see?”
I leaned over to Cherry, “You’re an expert on this, right?”
“I don’t buy into things I know little about… unless they’re a safe bet, sugah” She whispered back to me, and somehow I knew she was poking fun at me with that same statement.
“Who else will be coming with us on the move to Appleloosa?” I asked Thorpe.
“I’m a tad shorthanded as of late,” Thorpe admitted without hint of shame, “but Dusty and Granite Base have volunteered for the duty, as they got extended family livin’ in Appleloosa themselves”
I made a show of scrutinizing each steer at a distance before speaking, “I’m satisfied with my findings. Everything seems to be in order for tonight” I concluded, “Thanks for your time, Mister Thorpe. We’ll get out of your hair now”
He was about to reply when one of his attendants rushed up to us, “Mister Thorpe! One of the Flim Flam brothers is here to see you!”
I didn’t even need to glance at Cherry to know that a disgusted mien passed over her face at those words. She really didn’t care for them much. I wondered what they did to her that earned her permanent disdain?
“I best see him then” Thorpe chirped, “I’ve been runnin’ awful low on that miracle grower stuff lately” He twisted his head at us, “Your horses are where he’s waitin’, so y’all might as well say hello to him too”
Jubilee mumbled unintelligibly but raised no fuss about it, and I was indifferent to this news. Thorpe dismissed the man who gave us the report and we made the short trek back to his house. In front of it was a canvas covered wagon with a logo depicting the Flim Flam brothers’ color scheme and overused words ‘Satisfaction Guaranteed!’. Seated on the conductor’s bench and clutching the reins of the four horse team was a gangly man with a twenties style boater hat with a blue band attached to the crown. Sickly green irises peered out at us from under that boater. His hair was a two toned red and white that reminded me a cinnamon swirl toothpaste that I once tried out for the heck of it (By the by, I was disappointed with my purchase, so this tangential thought was actually fitting). His clothes were like articles out of a barbershop quartet’s dressings, consisting of a blue and white striped vest with a black bowtie and tanned slacks. His features were clean shaven, but he wore this oily smirk that was just begging to be wiped of his face with a vigorous thwack. I did not fail to notice Cherry instinctively taking shelter behind me as we came closer.
“Howdy do, Mister Thorpe!?” He energetically exclaimed to ranchman, “I’ve got a shipment of fertilizers here with your name on it! It’s at a bargain too! Only a hundred bits per bag! That’s a real discount there, pardner!” He had a classic carnie’s voice, which was equal quantities amusing and repellent when he attempted to get with the local vernacular.
“Hoo whee!” Thorpe hooted, the wool from this con man’s shoddy act drawn completely over his eyes, “It was over two hundred bits for half a bag the last occasion y’all came ‘round!” He seemed wisely suspicious for the first I had seen him, “Why is it so inexpensive this time?”
“Profits have been…” The man smiled in a shifty, malign way that I immediately distrusted, “…extremely favorable these days. Me and Flam felt a show of generosity wouldn’t go unappreciated by our customer base”
“Ah” Thorpe nodded, “You wouldn’t be wrong there”
And like that, his wisdom evaporated like fog in the sunlight.
The man’s cloying smile became a leer as he laid his eyes on my companion, “Miss Jubilee! What a pleasant surprise it is to see you here! Was thinking you had secluded yourself to your orchard permanently, what with how you’ve been so pointedly ignoring us”
“You overstepped your bounds with me Flim Skim” Cherry all but hissed at him, “You and your brother Skam both”
“Did he do something to hurt you?” I inquired, wanting some context.
Cherry couldn’t meet my gaze, “I… I don’t wish to talk about it. Let’s say that I made the mistake of inviting them into my home once and leave it at that”
That had me balling my hands into fists, “If they touched you…”
She was aghast, “No, no! Celestia, no! Those two couldn’t tempt a woman into bed with them if they paid her! Though it didn’t stop ‘em from persistently trying” She mumbled the last part.
‘I haven’t known this insipid man for more than a minute and I already want to throttle him’ I groused.
Jubilee’s hand caressed mine briefly, as a token of gratitude for expressing my concern for her wellbeing. It was unlikely that she knew that I wasn’t like that solely for her sake, but that I had an aversion to men who forced themselves on women in any aggressive or untoward manner. Mutual romance was fair game, but seduction with harmful ulterior motives was wrong… plain and simple.
“And who might you be?” Flim’s gaze turned to regard me hungrily, “You seem like a stout fella. Could use a man like you in one of our mulching facilities. We only operate locally for now, but work hard enough, and you might be able to join us in… expanding our business across the nation”
I scoffed, “Much as I would welcome the offer. I’m already employed by Miss Jubilee to supervise the transfer of her and Mister Thorpe’s livestock to Appleloosa, and I honor my commitments” I excused. That, and I’d sooner spit in that man’s hand than shake it.
Flim’s eyebrows rose, “Bringing cattle with you to Appleloosa, do you say? Best be careful with that chancy endeavor. The road down there is dangerous nowadays. Many travelers who risk the journey lose a lot more than the money in their pockets, especially with those Buffalo savages on the prowl”
The man’s opinion towards the Braves was crudely revealing about his personality, but I had yet to interact with any of them myself, so I let it slide.
Taking a page from the women’s playbook, I crossed my arms together and leaned to one side, favoring my left leg, “I have reason to believe that our chances are favorable, since we’ll be traveling in numbers” Which should ward off the entirety of any but the most determined attackers.
Flim said nothing to that, though I could have sworn that I spied a glint of anticipation in his eyes, as if he was marking that in his head for later.
“So how bout it, Thorpe?” Flim addressed the ranchman, getting back to the sale, “Our fertilizer has just the correct amounts of Flim-Flam certified magic in it to accelerate your crop growth threefold. You can even acquire those tomatoes you always wanted in a quarter of the time it takes!”
“You had me at hello!” Thorpe told him exuberantly, “I’ll purchase the whole wagon!”
“The wagon costs extra” Flim joked, wagging his eyebrows at him, “Though I’m sure we can work out a deal for that too, if’n you’re willing”
Thorpe chortled, but didn’t swallow the bait. Without further banter, he extended his hand for a shake to the crooked businessman in the venerated symbol of a deal well struck.
Flim copied it eagerly, “Marvelous! Another happy customer”
“Folks here once thought so lowly of your products in the past. I must confess, I was inclined to believe the discouragin’ tales from people passin’ through before I tried out one of your wares for myself” Thorpe was ashamed, “Please, you gotta tell me, what did you concoct to induce this fertilizer to be so potent?” Thorpe inquired, “An’ don’t insult me by stickin’ to that ‘It’s magic’ malarkey you Stellar Magi often resort to. My cattle have never ate better in their lives!”
“Hmm…. I’m not in the habit of disclosing closely guarded trade secrets unless there’s profit to be earned” Flim curled his fingers back to rub on the fabric of his vest, “But it might have to do with a special ingredient that we’ve started mixing into our batches recently. It just lends a… native flavor to it that makes all the difference”
That odd clairvoyant sense which I infrequently became aware of when there was something off that I could not explain began to murmur in my chest. I frowned, wanting to act on it, but there were no bloodthirsty Acolytes barging in on us that required dispatching. So I could do nothing proactive about it.
Flim let the greying ranchman wrap his mind around that while Thorpe’s unburdened ranch workers responded to his cueing them to unload the wagon while he swapped a cowhide purse heavy with bits with Mister Flim. I shared a look with Cherry and saw the same desire to create an absence in our present company. We came to the ranch, we evaluated the stock, and deemed them healthy. It was time to check in on the Apples and see if they had settled things in preparation for the departure tonight. We crept from the group sluggishly to avoid appearing too impatient to disappear. Unfortunately, our escape could not be flawless, as the observant Flim had reallocated his faculties from lustily counting coins to spot us edging away. He pursued us to the hitching posts where North Wind and Felicity were squeezing what they could of their bulk into the rapidly retreating shade of Thorpe’s slanted tin roof.
“Hey,” Flim spoke to Cherry as she mounted up, “before you book off without so much as a fond farewell to yours truly. Do you think you can answer a question of mine?”
“Ask, and then do me the favor of leavin’ me in peace” Cherry replied brusquely, accidentally slipping into her authentic accent once again.
“Alas, were it any other request, I would oblige in a heartbeat!” He mocked bowed, before he was serious, “I’ve heard the most interesting rumors in town about a duo of guests that you’ve taken in. They say they originated from further south, a man and a woman”
“People say all sorts of things. Your point?” Jubilee had commendable control over her self, with the only reaction that my trained eye could identify being a faint tremor in her cheeks.
Flim scrutinized her for an uncomfortably long moment, and then he showed her his pearly whites, “You two have a pleasant afternoon”
Cherry didn’t dignify him with a mirroring adieu, whipping the reins and sending Felicity scampering into the lanes between cattle fencing. I stayed behind to momentarily bore a hole in Flim’s skull with the force of my stare before doing the same. The return trip to Cherry Hill Ranch was not as upbeat as it was when we were leaving its premises. Jubilee was in a foul mood from Flim’s tacit implication concerning her guests and it reflected in her actions. Felicity must have broken her record for fastest personal gallop as Jubilee continually motivated her with her boots to sprint ahead. Even North Wind had to push himself to gain on them. I aimed to encourage the ranch woman that Flim was a creep that wasn’t worth her attentions, but it felt like it would be moot by now.
Mister Farrier was sweeping up straws of hay scattered on the stable floors when we made our entrance. Cherry was so distraught that she cut it a little close on the entry, nearly clipping the man (who yelped and ducked to the side) in her haste.
“What in tarnation!” The flustered man cursed, before glaring at the newly re-scattered hay from the shock wind of our arrival, “I was sweepin’ there! Aw… now I hafta do it all over” He moped.
Jubilee ignored him, jumping off from Felicity and exiting the stables with a darkened expression on her face.
Farrier switched his focus to me, “What’s got her in a tizzy?”
“The same thing that has me worried” I retorted, swinging one leg over North Wind’s hindquarters to alight to the floor, “We are definitely saving ourselves a few seats on that wagon train tonight”
“We?” Farrier squawked in misinterpretation, dropping his broom, “But I have so many duties here to perform! I-”
I clapped a hand on his shoulder, shutting him up, “Relax. You’re not coming with. Sexy people only”
He was divided between being relieved and insulted by that statement as I left him to chase after Jubilee. She was quick on her feet, and I only caught a glimpse of her accessing a backdoor into her home as I retired from the stable. As I got closer, I could pick up on a commotion emanating from inside. I opened the door she used and those indistinct noises became crisply audible.
“-m I gonna break the news to her?” Braeburn asked, desperation saturating his every word.
“Gently, roughly, with tact, bluntly” Applejack listed with a light sprinkle of sarcasm, “Ah’m pretty dang sure you know how to speak to yer own soon to be betrothed, cuz”
From the proximity of their voices, I could assume that they were in that grand ol’ kitchen that was our unofficial meeting room. Cherry was nowhere in sight, which was cause for concern, and yet I could not ignore the discourse betwixt cousins to search for her.
“You don’ understand, Applejack” Braeburn was pulling at his hair he was so stressed, “She came to me in the dead a’night and told me that her life was in danger. No matter how much I asked her to clarify what she meant, she refused. Sumthin’ about endangerin’ me too if I knew”
Applejack sighed in frustration, “Listen, cuz. You’re already in danger. So far as the Buffalo Braves are concerned, you kidnapped their Chieftain’s daughter and ditched town. Even if no one saw ya do it, the Natives will put two and two together and pin the blame on you. Ah’m certain that your fellow Appleloosans are receivin’ the punishment for your actions too”
He flinched at that, “I jus’ wanted to help her” Braeburn broke down, unleashing a rather unmanly sob, “I had never seen her so grief stricken before. It wrenched at my heart. I just had to help her get away from what was hurting her!”
“And what exactly was hurting her?” I chimed in, my composed baritone voice in stark contrast to Braeburn’s trembling one.
My intrusion into the conversation startled them both, though less so for Applejack, who was more accustomed to how quiet I could be despite being as large as her thickset brother.
When Braeburn how recovered he spoke, “Didn’t you hear me? Strongheart wouldn’t spill, for my own safety!”
“I did, actually” I enunciated, “But you can provide some context for us by describing the events leading up to you two running from your own respective peoples”
The man snorted, “It should be a single people. They’re not so different from us and we’re not so different from them. Us settlers have a greater focus on materialism, is all”
“I don’t make the denominations” I sat at the table beside AJ, “I’m merely here to prevent them from clashing, is all” I mimicked him.
Braeburn narrowed his eyes at me, “Who are you? Clearly it ain’t one of Miss Jubilee’s newest employees!”
“I didn’t mislead you, if that’s what you mean. I am going to be aiding Miss Jubilee here at the orchard and beyond that, as will you” I said with a smug grin, “As for any possible concerns you might have beneath that worn exterior of yours, that’s taken care of as well”
“Explain” He demanded.
I did so, “You’ve been granted a reprieve for eloping with the Chieftain’s daughter and for worsening the steadily degrading relations between settler and native”
He was skeptical, “On whose authority?”
“Mine own” I verbally parried, “This Royal Agent of the Crown knows the Crown’s will and speaks with the Crown’s voice” And if necessary, will exact the Crown’s vengeance on those who would dare to cross it.
His pupils shrunk, “I’m in that deep, huh?” He exhaled with mental exhaustion, covering his face with his palm, “How did you discover our whereabouts? I could’ave swore this place was sufficiently secure to bed down in for a few months”
I hitched an eyebrow, ‘He still can’t figure out who it was? Not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?’
“The Crown has eyes and ears everywhere” I sidestepped the question with an ambiguous response to spare him an emotional confrontation with Miss Jubilee, “I doubt you could skip country and not alert somebody, somewhere, to your intentions. Now enough of this,” I leaned forward and stared at him, “it’s time for you to talk. Let’s start with an easy one. What is the nature of your relationship with the Chieftain’s daughter?” I wasn’t being sincere about grilling him, but he needed to learn who was in charge.
He tentatively complied, “We’re… close… very close. After the people of Appleloosa and the main village of the Buffalo Braves reached an accord, each side appointed a go-between to act as a representative. Strongheart, naturally, was chosen over many in her tribe, as she embodies all of the values the Buffalo Braves hold dear. And surprisingly, the town voted for me to stand in for them at the negotiatin’ table”
“You must have proven yourself to your fellow townsmen to warrant their trust” I observed.
“T’weren’t nothin” He humbly debased himself, “Governor Denim tol’ me that I was the only Appleloosan to play devil’s advocate when it came to the orchard contention between our two settlements, so that might have had sumthin to do with it”
“Okay” I nodded, “So you both were elected as local ambassadors. I assume that meant you interacted on a regular basis?”
He smiled as he cycled through treasured memories, “More than was required, to be honest. She and I have a world in common, both of us wantin’ to expand our horizons until they consisted of less sand and dust. We’d often meet at a secret spot under the shade of a nearby butte, toss out a picnic sheet, lay down, and jus’ talk till the sun went to sleep” For some reason his facial flesh tinged crimson as he recalled one such session with his lady love, “We have this connection, ya know? She gets me and I get her”
I saw AJ scoff out of the corner of my eye, but she stayed silent. She had issues with her cousin falling for a Buffalo Brave woman, even if she wouldn’t concede it aloud. Due to the insular nature of the town she was born and raised in, I could overlook her slightly racist tendencies regarding this subject.
Braeburn cut me off before I could continue, “You ain’t going to harm Strongheart, are you?” He stood from his chair, “Cause I’ll be damned if I sit idly by while somebody abused her. Agent or no Agent!”
“Sit. Down” I commanded in that imposing tone that I was capable of when it really mattered. I was growing rather accustomed to this authoritative persona that was expected of me, which I etched a mental note to monitor in case it clouded my objective judgment.
All the fire sucked out of him from my intimidating glare (blood red irises combined with a normally piercing gaze are a hell of a browbeating combo), he plopped back into his rickety seat and deflated, “Yes, sir” He muttered in defeat.
Why did I feel like I had kicked a helpless puppy?
“Look, Braeburn, I didn’t bring your cousin with me simply to corner you when it was most convenient for me” Even though it did blatantly seem that way, “I brought her to reassure you that our motives are pure. That, and she has a decent, sensible head on her shoulders. I may have a funny method of showing it,” My eyes met hers, “but having her with me bolsters my confidence”
Applejack’s features flushed bright pink for a moment before she stifled it with a swig of cherry wine that must have been leftover from the previous night’s activities. She politely excused herself to the restroom, leaving her cousin and myself alone at the table.
Braeburn made note of her departure, his range of view flicking back and forth from her rapidly retreating backside and me, “That’s bizarre” He commented, “Cousin Applejack is too modest to let high praise perturb her. Are you and her…?” He left his inquiry unfinished, making circle motions with two index fingers to emphasize his point.
“Just good friends” I sincerely filled in for him, though I would have to review the terms of our platonic relationship with her in the near future.
I shook my head, “We’re deviating from the topic at hand here. So you and Strongheart are in love then?”
“Yes” He admitted in a subdued tone, before repeating it with gusto, “Yes! I love her with all mah heart!” He affirmed, as much as a pledge to himself as it was to me.
‘Well don’t that beat all’ I mused, ‘He’s telling the truth. But will he love the child he created with her too? That’s the real test’
There were no lies in those eyes, “I believe you. But do you also love the denizens of the town of Appleloosa?”
He was caught off guard, “Not in the selfsame fashion, but yes, I do”
Time for an armor piercer, “Then why did you selfishly abandon them to their fate?”
“Selfish!?” He bristled at the accusation, “All I did, I did for mah Strongheart! With no second thoughts to mahself!”
“So you tunnel visioned then?” I sharply retorted, “You grabbed the girl like the protective boyfriend you were, and selflessly devoted yourself to seeing her to safety, never once considering the impact that your actions might cause for the local politics”
“Not never!” He insisted, “Some times when we would stop for a breather in the desert, I would risk a look to my rear and think about what I was leavin’ behind. Mah town, mah friends, mah home; how I was gonna disappoint everybody who relied on me to settle disputes between settlers and natives over petty things. I sacrificed it all for her…” His demeanor became steely, “…and I would do it again if given another chance”
“Staunchly dedicated to your love? I respect that” I complimented, having a similar attitude.
“Then you must allow us to disappear!” Braeburn exclaimed, “If you’ve learned about us takin’ shelter here, who’s to say others haven’t learnt the same!? Strongheart’s suitor would have mah head on a platter if he mustered the brain cells to come find me!”
That was a no-no, “That I cannot do, even if I sympathize with your plight. There is more at stake here than the sanctity of your relationship, Braeburn” I switched subjects, “How was your chat with your cousin?”
His mood darkened, “Unpleasant. Ah’m not goin’ to sleep easy for a long while” He grimaced, and refused to elaborate on what Applejack did to him, “She gave me little choice but to return to Appleloosa with you on that wagon train tonight… but I won’t leave without Strongheart at mah side!” He stipulated.
“And nor will you, as I am coming with you of my own volition” A foreign voice interposed itself into our conversation.
I twisted my neck to see who it was, my suspicions confirmed as a lightly brown skinned woman dressed in a loaner outfit a couple sizes too big for her (not that Cherry was fat!) sauntered into the illumination of the kitchen windows. The main person of interest since my quest began wasn’t a simulacrum of Pocahontas like I envisioned she would be, being of a smaller height than even Jubilee stood at two inches over five feet. What she lacked in stature, she made up for in exotic beauty. Her eyes were a shade of chestnut brown with golden pigmentation on the edges that accentuated her firm but gentle gaze. Thin though she was, she had plenty of muscle where it counted, likely from the physical activity that her culture mandated from her. Her hair was long and of a lustrous brown coloration, with a triangular patterned band that sprouted two immature golden eagle feathers, sporting a two toned white with black tipped scheme. The native woman’s belly was flat, and would not display the first visible signs of her pregnancy for a few weeks at least.
I politely inclined my head to her, “Miss Strongheart. How convenient of you to join us”
“Would you rather I remain ignorant of your underhanded coercing of my love?” She replied, some spice in her words.
‘Yes’ I internally snarked for my own amusement, ‘Now get back in the kitchen and make me a sammich… wait, this is the kitchen. Damn…’
“Mind your tone, dear” Jubilee chimed in from over the native girl’s shoulder, “He only has your best interests at heart”
Strongheart seemed disgusted with her, stepping far from her like she had the plague, “As you led us to believe that you did? The list of people we can trust grows ever thinner” She spat.
Jubilee had the grace to look marginally ashamed, having been the one to sell her guests out to the government.
But her duties to the Crown were of primary importance relative to her secondary sentiments, so she regained her composure quickly, “And I legitimately do, my sweetling, but shutting yourselves inside the confines of my orchard will ultimately do more harm than anything else”
It occurred to me that while I was zeroing in on Braeburn, Jubilee must have been likewise pressuring Strongheart into retracing her steps south for the greater good. I desired to congratulate her on her prudent thinking, but saved the urge for later.
“And the same will be true should I do as you say” Strongheart riposted, “My people’s suffering will be compounded!”
“What in blue blazes are ya talkin’ about?” Applejack piped up, back from the bathroom. All that was missing was a flushing noise in the background.
“Applejack” Strongheart coolly acknowledged her presence, “I did not expect you to be here”
“With mah cousin pallin’ around with you?” Applejack bared her teeth, “If you learned anythin’ about apples from mah cousin, it’s that we take care to prevent one bad apple from spoilin’ the entire barrel”
“Still as arrogant as when we first met!” Strongheart sniped in retaliation, “You do not control another’s affections! Not even those of your own kin!”
“Ya seduced him with some kind of foul sorcery!” Applejack accused her, getting into her personal space and towering over her diminutive frame.
“As ignorant as well!” Strongheart barked at her, unafraid. Her cheeks were burning with anger.
Braeburn was pale, unable to choose between defending the honor of his close family member or his lover as their argument devolved into squabbling.
“Ladies!” I shouted above their bickering, saving him the trouble, “Cease this pointless hostility at once! Strongheart,” I directed at the flabbergasted native girl, “you will elucidate what you meant by endangering the lives of your kinsmen further, and not a word of it will leave this room afterwards” I leveled a strict glare at everybody present, “Is that clear?” My tone brooked no backtalk from anyone.
Each of them nodded their consent. Some did so grudgingly to a larger extent than others.
“The Princesses were not unwise to appoint you as an Agent, Zenith” Cherry commented, seemingly bedazzled, “When you speak… people listen, and obey”
I was not in the mood for her infatuation derived flattering, “Must be my dominant personality” I quipped before slamming my fist onto the table like it was a gavel, “Now sit down. All of you”
They complied, with Strongheart sitting beside her man, her adversary Applejack opposite to her. I was at the foot of the table, and Cherry was at the head yet again. Although when taking jurisdiction into account… I was the head of this particular house. Strongheart nestled her head into her love’s shoulder and Braeburn wrapped an arm around her lovingly and protectively. Applejack grit her teeth, but a black lower from me preemptively silenced her objections.
“As you were saying?” My eyes glowed red as I cued the native woman once everybody was seated, “Our privacy is guaranteed. I’ve cast a multilayered soundproofing spell on the room. Even the Princesses could not eavesdrop on us” I levitated the hilt of my Mage-blade outside the sphere as an added assurance. And though I misused the hell out of them, I usually followed my words to the letter.
“He’s a magic user?” Strongheart muttered to herself, before obliging me, “Would you swear on your life, light, and magic that your intentions with us are pure?”
I studied her cautiously, “If you so wish it, I shall grant it”
I was familiar with what she was requesting of me. It was a subspecies of incantation based magic, which was just as malleable as typically worded statements. But if the proclamation phrases were specific, like an oath for example, then it would become legally and literally binding for the one uttering it. With how impartial the power of this magically influenced oath was; it made sense that Strongheart would place her trust in me after I acquiesced.
I inhaled deeply, “I solemnly swear on my life, light, and magic that I mean you and your significant other no harm. I’m here to help end the bad blood between the southern settlers and the Buffalo Braves, and I will need both of you on my side to accomplish that”
I felt something beyond the sensation of touch surge through my core, before passing harmlessly into the ether from whence it came. Strongheart watched me carefully for a second or two before she was satisfied.
She sighed in relief, afore launching into her explication, “The man my father set me to marry, his name is Wild Bull. He’s the son of one of our nearby village’s beloved fighters, Standing Bull. So therefore he was a suitable match for me in my father’s eyes. Our people similarly respect his prowess in battle, and the majority of us believe he will succeed my father as Chieftain once he passes onto the next life, but he harbors a terrible secret from the rest of his kin”
I wasn’t certain if her pause was for the dramatic suspense, or the immensity of this secret stupefied her even after the fact.
“He consorts with men who would conspire to exterminate us” She choked out, “He has been in close contact with the men who have been raiding our other villages, kidnapping our brothers and sisters, and violently disposing of those who would resist them!”
She slammed her fists into the table, though not with the force that I had done it with earlier, “Honor demands that his treachery be punished accordingly” She was then disheartened, “But I am a woman, bound to be subservient to my father’s will and my husband’s, once I marry him. My role is to stanch the flow of blood, not be the cause of it”
“I will never treat you as anythin’ less than an equal” Braeburn vowed, ever the progressive, liberal minded thinker relative to his peers.
She caressed his cheek with her fingers, “I know, my love. You are the only man who holds my heart, yet this means nothing to my people. We are prohibited from marrying outside of our kind. Only a tribesman can claim a tribeswoman for a bride” She couldn’t meet his eyes for her next statement, “Our union is… unorthodox, forbidden even”
“I don’ care about none of that!” He cupped her face in his hand, “I only care about you, mah Sweetheart”
He kissed her right then, ardently and passionately on the lips. Cherry blushed hard enough to match some of the Prunus cerasus fruits flourishing outside, while Applejack struggled to avoid bursting a bulging vein on her forehead as her jaw twitched and flexed. I was indifferent to other couples’ public displays of fondness, but averted my sight anyway.
“How did you catch wind of this?” I inquired of her once they had ended their mutual lip-lock.
“Catch wind?” She expressed confusion, before the term registered in her head, “How did I discover this, you mean? He and some of his fellow warriors visited my father’s village some time ago to discuss the details of acquiring my hand in marriage. The men got drunk on fermented buffalo’s milk that night. He snuck into my tent, swaying with each step. He pompously divulged all of it to me. He would forsake his native cloth for a disguise to meet with someone in Appleloosa, an…” She wracked her brain for the proper term, “informant? Yes, an informant. He told this man about our tribes migrating patterns and where each village was likely to encamp themselves for a time in exchange for that which he desired above all else, which he would not explicitly reveal. This man spread the sensitive information to those responsible for our missing tribesmen, perhaps participating in the reaving himself!”
‘Called it’ I mentally fist pumped, ‘There was an insider in their ranks the whole time. But why would he sell his own people out? What did he aspire to gain?’ It was not conductive to the preservation of peace, whatever it was.
“He knew there was not a thing I could do about it” Strongheart quivered, out of sadness or rage was difficult to discern, “It would be my word versus his. My father may be the Chieftain, but we do not favor the word of those who have not proven themselves to be capable warriors regardless of who their father was, and I have not slain even our namesake buffalo on the traditional hunts. He threatened everyone dear to me if I ventured to defy him anyway” She shivered at the memory, “He then attempted to… claim me before our vows were spoken there in that tent, damning my virtue to maw of the uoomjeku. I struggled with him as he tore at my clothes, only managing to slip away after kneeing him in his manhood. I stole one of their horses and made my way to the only man who would defend me”
“So yer tattered clothes when you came to me in the twilight hours were because of…” Braeburn’s face was ashen, “Ah’m gonna kill him. If I see him, he’s dead!”
“No! Braeburn please. You cannot face him openly. He is one of our most talented fighters” Strongheart pleaded with him, “He would surely kill you… and my reason for continued living would die with you. You have a tender heart, and that is part of why I adore you so tremendously. I would have you live, to spite him with our love”
“Why would Wild Bull do this? What does he seek to gain by playing the informant for these cantankerous outlaws?” I questioned.
“I do not know” She admitted, “He has all he could want. He has the respect of his kinsmen, a notable father who many looked to for strength during times of famine or drought when the waters of the Great Snake River ran low, and his demands to lead full war parties against the settlers to collect scalps were becoming increasingly permitted”
It was then that I had my inkling to the causation, “How does a person become a Chieftain in your society, Strongheart?”
“When the current Chieftain, my father dies, our people congregate to vote on who will lead the Buffalo Braves in his stead. The precedent was that the son would inherit the mantle of leadership, but my mother died shortly after she brought me into this world, and a woman cannot be Chieftain. It is not our way” She was bitter about the patriarchal aspect of her tribe.
Shockingly, Applejack sided with her nemesis on this matter, “That’s total horse manure! A woman can lead as well as a man. Mah brother and I would even take turns managing our farm’s operations for monthly periods. I do just as thorough a job as he does!”
“Your people are not my people, Applejack. Though I am glad that your people as so… egalitarian? Yes, that’s the word” Strongheart addressed her softly for the first time since their reunion, “My tribesmen practically worship our worldly traditions as much as they do the Great Spirit which watches over us all”
‘It that a clue into the faith they follow?’ It sounded like it.
She resumed, “To be Chieftain, prominent men from each of our villages would compete with the other contenders for the mantle by indicating their deeds and acts of courage. As one might predict, the warfighters are chosen very frequently. For as long as our history extends into the past, each of our leaders have spilled blood, animal or otherwise, to demonstrate their bravery, before and after their investiture”
I snapped my fingers, “That’s it then! Whoever collects the greatest number of scalps would outshine their competitors and be a shoo-in for next Chieftain, and this Wild Bull is likely doing precisely that. It’s a classic power play, to ease his path towards Chieftain-hood”
“From what I have seen of Wild Bull, this is quite possibly true” She agreed, “But my father is still alive, and he would not rally the entirety of our people to march on the settlers until he had conclusive proof that they were endeavoring to undermine our people’s birthright to this land. He retains some measure of esteem for the men and women living in Appleloosa and will not touch them, but the adjacent settlements bordering the plains we call home are ‘subject to investigation’, as he had put it when I tried to reason with him to stop this madness altogether”
“And if your father were to… meet a premature demise?” I suggested to her.
“Murder my father?” To her it was unthinkable, “As powerful a warrior as Wild Bull is, my father could crush him with his dominant hand tied behind his back” She scoffed, “Wild Bull is not stupid enough to directly challenge my father to a fair fight”
I quirked an eyebrow in response to her last couple of words, and her complexion paled as she realized it too, “Is he plotting to murder my father through other methods? By the Spirit! How could I have abandoned him to his fate!? How could I be so naïve!?” She was frantic at this point. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess.
Braeburn comforted her as she sobbed into his chest, whispering encouragement in her ear. Applejack was actually feeling sympathetic for Strongheart’s inner turmoil, but was stumped on how to express it to the woman whose presence she merely tolerated at best. Her antagonistic armor was weakening though, and her cousin’s genuine displays of doting were the chisel that would shatter her prejudice.
Jubilee was leaning towards being proactive in stemming her fears, “So far the people of Appleloosa only have to deal with raids from your people. If your father was dead and the next Chieftain chosen, they would have launched an all out assault by now, doncha think?”
Strongheart looked as her with desperation and grief mixed in her eyes, “So there is hope?”
“There is always hope” I averred, “But hope alone will not set things to right. We must take action to counter the treachery of your betrothed and uncover the villains behind this plot to kidnap your people and direct the retaliatory ire onto the settlers”
“But the men doing this are armed with some kind of weapon that spits fire and lead” The native woman protested, “You cannot believe that you can match them, can you?”
I said nothing, instead settling on unholstering my huge ass revolver and laying it smoothly on the tabletop. Everybody’s eyes threated to pop out of their sockets as they beheld the spiritual descendant of the Gun that Won the West. Needless to say, it generated quite the uproar.
“An unholy Thunder-Horror!”
Braeburn tilted his head curiously, “Is that the… Princess engraved on it?”
“Well, I’ll be!”
Applejack was not amused, “Zenith… how long have you had that?”
I scooped it up again and holstered it, “To answer those in order: Yes it is, and since before we left the Krystal Kingdom”
Strongheart was indecisive about how she felt about this development. On one hand, this was the type of weapon that slaughtered and captured her people (though not as refined in its capacity for sending metal slugs flying downrange), but I had sworn on my very life and magic that I was here to put an end to all of that.
“I won’t match them, Strongheart” I monotoned, “I’ll surpass them. Comparing whatever they’re using to what I’m packing is like matching a common hunting bow to a ballista. There’s no arguing which is the heaviest hitter”
“How did you acquire that?” Cherry inquired, “Gryphondrian firearms are a rarity not seen outside of their own country until just recently. And whatever that one is, it’s a few steps up from the advanced designs the Crown briefed us on”
“You could say the manufacturer of mine is…” I grinned mischievously, “Discordian”
The orchard owner frowned, incapable of deciphering my hidden meaning. Applejack did, however, and from the withering glare she projected at me, she did not approve of this in the slightest.
I didn’t really crave her opinion on what I armed myself with, “AJ, I know I’m breathtakingly handsome, but that’s rude” I switched my attention to Strongheart, “You told us that as a woman, you could not challenge the traitorous Wild Bull openly. Is there a way that I perhaps could?”
She assessed my mettle with a glance, “Wild Bull did not earn his name idly. He is a ferocious combatant, and yields to no one once the battle madness is upon him. You are about his size, but not half of his bulk. You would be crushed if you went against him”
“I think you underestimate my chances” I casually retorted, ready for a scrap.
She hummed to herself, “There is no doubting your bravado, but even if you were the one to defeat him in a duel, only another member of our tribe can engage him in a sacred blood oath”
Color me intrigued, “What is a blood oath?” I prompted her.
She acceded, “A public death pledge, invoked between domestic enemies in our tribe. Claim is laid on another’s life in sight of men and the Great Spirit. It hasn’t been called for since before I was born. The last two participants died upon the other’s knife, embracing the other in death where they would not in life. It cannot be undone, as one or both of the invokers must die or forever be condemned in view of the Great Spirit. Such a fate is considered worse than death”
‘Like Nex Sacramentum’ I mentally contrasted the two.
“How does one become a member of the Buffalo Brave Tribe?” I naturally followed up with.
“I do not know” Strongheart’s head lowered despondently, “I know tales of lost men who were enchanted by our ancestors simple means of living and somehow became a part of it, but the details are hazy. There are solely two men in our tribe who can declare a person to be one of us, and that is my father and our shaman; who has been blind since before my father was not yet a man”
I shrugged indifferently, “I will have to charm them, I suppose” Failing that, I could just assassinate Wild Bull with stealth. But not before interrogating him for the information I craved.
“Wait” Applejack interrupted, “Ya can’t be seriously givin’ thought to killin’ somebody, are you?”
“Oh no” I replied conversationally, “First I’m going to pry the name of this informant from his lips… and then I’ll kill him”
My blasé demeanor when talking about the topic of ending someone’s life in cold blood had my audience silent, unable to process the implications of that. I remembered that I was no longer among company that dealt with death on a regular basis like it was when I was with Starswirl, or the Princesses. These were Arcanians to whom the concept of war and unadulterated antipathy were inconceivable and taboo. Even Braeburn, who had so adamantly expressed his intention to murder Wild Bull for nearly violating the woman he loved could not comprehend to what lengths I was willing to go to protect those I cared about. I had consigned myself to be a sin eater, so that these peaceful folk would not have to bloody their hands.
“Snakes alive!” An astonished Applejack commented, reclining into her chair with disbelief, “Jus’ when you think ya know someone, they up and surprise you with sumthin like that”
Cherry somehow found it in her to defend me, “Need I bring up that Zenith here is an Agent to their Royal Highnesses? He’s has the fortitude to do what it takes to get the job done. Even though the requirements aren’t enviable… he has the strength of character to see this through to its finish”
Strongheart came to my defense after her, “He swore a solemn vow before the Great Spirit to cease the ill will between settler and native. If that demands that the life of Wild Bull be terminated to do this, then the Great Spirit will guide his hand as if to strike at him itself. Wild Bull is the very picture of arrogance. He would sooner die than renounce his warrior’s ways”
‘A true warrior does not seek to incite violence. He defends others from its destructive effects’ I mused. This didn’t necessarily apply to me, but it was reassuring to have ideals.
Braeburn tugged upwards on his hat brim, “If mah Strongheart has faith that you’re our best bet, then ah’m with her”
All of us waited on Applejack, who was debating internally with herself.
“Shucks” She finally relented, “What kind of reliable gal would I be if I backed out now?”
That settled it then, “All of you, save for Miss Jubilee, pack your belongings. We egress tonight”
⁂
The wooden spokes of our wagon’s wheels creaked and cracked as it followed half a dozen similar wagons in front of it. I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead with one hand while holding the reins of North Wind and Dusk Breeze with the other, who were hitched to our cart. We were in the middle of the column, where it was technically the safest. Applejack, Braeburn, and a bonnet wearing Strongheart were sequestered in the rear and doing their damnedest to keep cool in the sweltering, dry heat of the desert. Luckily for us, Miss Jubilee had seen us off with two crates worth of organic cherry juice, which was as efficient of a lifesaver as a glass of iced tea. Strongheart and Braeburn didn’t waste ten minutes packing what few things they hauled with them during their elopement (Braeburn would later tell me that they used the horse Strongheart had stolen to navigate over three quarters of the distance before it gave out on them). The former of the two had to wear garments that covered her darker complexion, so as to not arouse suspicion around these settlers, who had an aversion to the harassment that her people were inflicting on their relatives in the south. Applejack was on interception duty, and would distract the nosier folks away from them by regaling them with tales of her orchards famous apples.
The cowgirl had a lot in common with these settlers, I had noticed. A vast chunk of her family tree (heh, apple puns) had migrated to these lands to forge a name for themselves. The soils, or lack of them, weren’t what Stellar Mage experts would deem conducive to the growth of crops, and yet the stubborn Agrarians always found a way to make it work. Of the three clans that inhabited this country, the Agrarians were closest analogues to the American frontiersmen, and for that reason I felt a small kinship with them myself. It was well nigh enough to cause me to forget about the aching for home lancing at my heart. I was positive that given time, I could adopt this world as my own in my heart of hearts, and a Trifect like me had an overabundance of time. Having a woman like Applejack as my friend would ease me into that, as would her five friends and the supplemental women in my life.
The desert to the south of Dodge Junction resembled monument valley, with a reddish hue to the siltstone composing the rocks of the buttes. This transitioned to less visually attractive desert as the days ground onwards. Our wagon train consisted of twenty two wagons, the vital cargos and supplies they carried, and the cattle that followed alongside being herded by the cowboys. Tagalong Thorpe had lent us two of his most loyal employees to aid us on this venture, albeit their hastily imparted names presently escaped me. They were competent cowpokes though (babysitting our herd of Longhorns for me and Braeburn), so their presence was a credit to our column’s collective skill pool.
The staging area for the initial operation was no rodeo stage show, and the folks riding with us were as bent on reaching Appleloosa as we were. They were as hardy as the pioneers their ancestors had been almost a century prior, and it reflected in their mannerisms. Some men brought their whole families, though there were no children as far as I could see. To avoid the rearmost wagons eating a mouthful of dust, our column would occasionally fan out and ride abreast in separate miniature columns if the roads would accommodate it. The appointed wagon master was a man in his thirties named Trail Mix. I advised against his decision to utilize the trail beside the train tracks to travel to Appleloosa, as it was incredibly risky in spite of the travel time we would save. My objections were overruled by the majority vote however (for they were impatient to get there), and I didn’t want anyone else to know a Royal Agent was in their ranks, so I stayed quiet and we tempted fate as a whole unit. I was confident that whatever was bold enough to attack a wagon train as sizable as ours would be discouraged if I got involved in its defense.
Our travels were about four days in at that point in time. With how determined these people were to relieve the citizens of Appleloosa combined with the ruggedness of the Agrarian spirit, we were averaging over forty miles a day. Relatively flat lands coupled with pre-blazed paths facilitated our movement across the desert wastes. Vegetation in these parts was sparse, and moisture even sparser. The greenest living things that stayed constant in the scenery were saguaro cacti that grew as tall as man and as spiky as the most ornery of them. Folks would have to employ swigs from their water skins and canteens every other minute to avoid dehydrating, and the shade of the canvas covered wagons was treated as a precious commodity unto itself. People would take turns driving their wagons forward in four hour shifts, with the shortest sticks designating the torturous midday shift. In contempt of my body’s protesting, I did not terribly mind the arid weather, being no stranger to it myself. If I ever overheated, I would cast a refrigerating spell on my skin to lower my body temperature until it was satisfactory. That was not often though, as my poncho did a commendable job of deflecting the sun’s rays thanks to its light blue coloration with white streaking bands of stars.
Speaking of, I had acquired my newest article of clothing when I saw a fancy cotton table sheet with tassels that I just had to modify. I paid Cherry a hefty sum for it (though not in bits, as I would have preferred), as the sheet had belonged to her parents and had sentimental values attached to it, but it was worth my expenditure. Crafting a poncho was as simple as the concept of a poncho itself. I levitated it aloft in my magic, rotated it, and folded it in half before using a shard of Dichotomy to slice a triangle in the middle portion where my neck would go. Once my custom tailoring (Rarity would bite her tongue off before describing it as that. Though I did pay heed to her free lessons in clothing alterations) task was complete, I attained myself a brand new poncho for my ever expanding wardrobe. I had apparently started a fashion trend when I first wore it on our journey over my duster. From there others in our wagon train had seen it, appreciated it, and sweetly begged their wives to modify and sew them their own. There were only a few among our wagon train population of over a hundred that sported a poncho, but those who did personally thanked me for introducing something so useful during both the scorching days and freezing nights to preserve their comfort.
As aforementioned, temperatures in the desert had extreme fluctuations depending on which celestial body held sway over the heavens. During the day, it was sweatsville for all of us, and the sensitive men and women moaned about it. At night, the reverse was true, and we would almost have to huddle together for warmth if there wasn’t a fire going by the time eventide was here. Additionally, we would form our wagons into a circular corral formation, not for defense as the inexperienced would assume offhand, but to prevent our cattle from wandering off in the night or being preyed on by coyotes. None the less, the defensive integrity of our column was essential, and I pressured Trail Mix until he caved in and assigned lookouts and pickets to warn us of danger. I also instructed him to construct Dakota fire pits (think a couple of holes in the ground with a campfire in one) after sundown to prevent the light from giving us away to any potential enemies. Since digging a Dakota fire pit was a hassle, I would go around our camp personally to dig them with my magic for folks too tired after a prolonged day of journeying to dig it themselves. This had the unintended side effect of raising my esteem amidst our little mobile community, and they would sometimes give us gifts of beef jerky and bottle beer as tokens of their gratitude. It was uneventful up till then, but I remained on my guard.
My caution was warranted, for on the sixth night, trouble found us. I was assisting on a wheel repair (adhesion spells are handy when you’re dealing with wood) with a thin man named Slim Jim when the latter excused himself to ‘water the plants’ as he euphemized with a chuckle. I recall idly asking him to be careful as I finalized the third of my six adhesion jobs. We had chosen a spot half a mile from the rails that was ensconced by rock and foliage in a sort of semi canyon, and the desert floor there was too thick to dig Dakota fire pits, so we had to adopt the regular ones that crackled and blazed in the silky moonlight. My companions were having a dinner of beans, rice and skinned prickly pears by one such campfire, minding themselves as was routine. By my bent knee was a pile of replacement spokes for the wagons in a wooden crate, which were subject to maintenance even in perfect conditions for traveling. The spokes for the rear wagon wheels were the length of walking sticks, which I assumed was for structural reinforcement. The column did not stop for a single wagon, and there were occasions where we nearly had to abandon people in the rear view, the ultimate goal of Appleloosa on everyone’s agenda. We were very fortunate that our losses up till then were limited to a couple of wagons, and not a couple of families. The other wagon folk selflessly offered what unoccupied space they had to create room for the hapless settlers.
Our wagons had been circled for about half an hour when I heard the shuffling footfalls of Slim Jim, who was returning from his bathroom break. I frowned when I realized that the rhythm of his footsteps was off. He was trudging as if he had an immense weight on his shoulders that was pulling at him. His silhouette emerged from the darkness unsteadily, and I had that sinking feeling in my gut that tonight would be memorable for the wrong reasons. He twisted weakly once he was less than ten feet from me so that I could see the eight arrow shafts sticking out of his backside, like he was some human porcupine.
“Slim… is that you?” I prompted in a worried tone.
“Buffalo Braves are attackin’ us” Were his last whispered words to me before he collapsed like a puppet with its strings snipped, dead.
I reacted quickly, grabbing one the wheel spokes from the crate, since the only other means of defense I had on me were my Tantō, my hidden blades, and my gun, which I would not use unless in grave need. If Slim Jim had been attacked within pissing distance, this likely meant that our pickets had been silently eliminated too. I cursed internally as I jogged past a cart and into the ring of wagons. I told Trail Mix and the others that the direct route was too dangerous, but they would not listen, and now we would pay a death toll for our passage.
“EVERYBODY UP!” I hollered to those that had fallen asleep, startling them from their slumber, “Get the women to the center of the circle. Barricade them in as best you can with our supplies” I directed towards one of Trail Mix’s entourage, who would relay his commands. Now he would relay mine.
“What in tarnation is the matter?” Questioned one of the sleepy men, rubbing his eyelids. There were notes from a harmonica drifting into the atmosphere, belying the danger that was a figurative stone’s throw away.
“We are under attack” I answered simply, “Someone fetch Trail Mix and inform him of that. You, you, and you” I pointed at three men who were wide awake, “Grab something to defend yourselves with. You’re with me”
The men obeyed and armed themselves with shovels and pickaxes before joining me to sound the alarm. Unease and slight bits of panic spread like wildfire throughout our camp in ripples from a tossed stone. The commotion my news brought about must have tipped off our attackers that the element of surprise was lost, as a shrill war cry that would cause ice to form in the veins of the uninitiated (which was virtually everyone here) echoed all around us. The movement of people in the camp transformed into a loosely organized frenzy as Trail Mix’s subordinates ushered the women into the center of the circle by the cattle like I had ordered them too and set to work on the barricades using crates and whatever else that was sturdy and on hand. The situation could have been better. The settlers by and large had no combat experience, no armor, and no actual weapons besides a few rusted crossbows to defend themselves with. I had no idea as to the numbers of our enemies, or if they intended to put us to the blade. Knowing my fortune lately, it was highly probably that they came with lethal purposes in mind.
The first clue to reinforce that notion was a couple of wagons that were set aflame by the charging natives. The fires engulfed the flammable canvas of the wagons and lit our surroundings up like the Fourth of July. A stream of Buffalo Brave warriors poured through the gaps of the wagons from our fore and to our rear like flowing water, and I barked out orders to contain them. The men were undoubtedly nervous, but seeing me so unfalteringly calm in the face of these odds must have inspired something in them, as they did not hesitate to follow my lead. If too many natives breached our wagon circle, we would be overrun, so I led a group of twenty five strong in a mad dash to meet the closest of the two pincers. The Buffalo Braves meant business. War paint had been smeared on their faces like a grotesque camouflage and their hair was done up in ways that were practical, yet simultaneously intimidating. They were shirtless for the most part, but that only showcased their muscle, and these men were no string beans in that department. These natives had to be as ripped as Big Macintosh at least!
One of them was headed my way with battle fever in his eyes and a tomahawk like hatchet brandished in his hands. I struck him on the forehead with the butt of my improvised staff and knocked him unconscious, scooping up his axe to insert in my belt. The principal section of my group had arrived and they were engaging the Buffalo Braves, who crashed upon them like waves on a rock. Despite the disadvantages in average muscle mass, my men were fighting for their lives, and that lent them a fortitude that I had first seen in Mirrimare, so many years in the past. I lost sight of my companions in the ensuing chaos, but knew that Applejack would watch over our mutual acquaintances just fine. Trail Mix had evidently formed an inner line of defense with what scant crossbowmen he had and was denying our enemy a way inside. They had erected crude barricades to take shelter from the arrows that were falling on us from above like droplets of rain, infrequently striking an unprotected man and wounding him. Each man that fell decreased our chances of coming out of this, so their incapacitation or slaying was felt by each of us.
But there was no time to concentrate on anything else but the fight, as our enemy was numerous and three of their warriors had rushed me. The first of which was dispatched when I had swept him off his feet with my staff and followed up with a swift conk to his skull. I blocked an axe from a second assailant with the durable wood of my staff and twisted, loosening the weapon from his grasp. I spun in place to impart kinetic energy to my staff and nailed this one in his solar plexus, sending him flying back to crumple in a heap. The third yelled at me and tried to stab me with a duo of flinty knives, I parried his blows easily and counterattacked with a rapid flurry of oscillating strikes with the edges of my staff, before finishing him off with a blow to his face. If he lived, he would be covered from head to toe in bruises for a month, if not, then oh well. As hard as they were fighting, my men were simply outmatched, and we had to pull back as more of our number were slain. A morbid reprieve was granted to us in the form of the victorious fighters pausing their assault to collect scalps.
“Zenith!” A voice shouted, “Duck!”
I did so, and a crossbolt zoomed over my head and embedded itself into the chest of a Brave who had snuck up on me while I was distracted. I looked up to see who was responsible for saving me from a potential injury or worse, and was mildly caught off guard by the fact that it was Braeburn. He reloaded a bolt into his weapon using a cranking mechanism that had little to no changes done to it since before the unification. I spotted a charging Brave bearing down on him and acted, choking up on the wood of my staff and swinging wide with it to strike that man in his ribs, engendering him to double over before I struck him again for good measure. His brazen charge had surprised the grass green Braeburn, who fell on his keister when he saw how close he was to biting the dust.
I extended my hand for him to accept, “On your feet, partner. This fight ain’t over by a long shot” I said as I got him up.
“R-r-right” He shakily replied.
Our remaining time for conversation was at an end, as a fresh wave of warriors had bypassed what leftover resistance my group was putting up and we were in its way. I tossed Braeburn my appropriated hatchet and charged my staff with magic. Like with electricity, wood wasn’t an optimal conductor for foreign magical energies like my own, but just the sheer amount of magic I was infusing into my staff overrode its inefficiency. My strikes now had the oomph necessary to drop my enemies with a single hit, and would often launch them into the air like ragdolls. Behind me were the women of our wagon train, who wailed in despair as they saw their loved ones being killed by the seemingly endless numbers of Buffalo Braves. My fury was building with every one of my adopted countrymen dying, and I was starting to let apathy seep into my actions. I caved in one native’s skull with a downward swing and with fragments of his skull plastered on the once immaculate wood, ended the life of another man by smashing his windpipe and flooding his airway with the bitter, metallic taste of blood. The Brave’s took note of my ferocity, but instead of giving me a wide berth, they took me on in greater volumes.
Hell, I didn’t care, “You aren’t getting past me” I snarled at them, my eyes like two smoldering coals, “Proceed at your own peril”
They did, and I adjusted my fighting style accordingly. I planted my staff into the ground and used it to hold myself up was I spin kicked several Braves in a wheel like motion. I didn’t hold back anymore, and I put an ostrich to shame as I bloodied my boots with native vital fluids. That dark part of me that I kept suppressed was beginning to worm its way out, and an unbidden smile had started to form on my face. I yearned for more of these damned Buffalo Braves to show up so I could send them back in body bags. That was if there was enough of them left to compose a body, anyhow. I went on the offensive, butchering a gory swatch through their ranks to plug one of the gaps. Brains were splattered, bones were splintered, and the bold war cries were expeditiously transforming into cries of agony as I single handedly turned the tides.
The only obstacle in my way that posed even the tiniest fraction of a threat was a man about my height who wore a headband dotted in several feathers with crimson tips. He was as muscled as an ox and wielded a combination of axe and knife that he skillfully used to butcher a man who only had a spade to oppose him with. He put all of his strength into his first lateral swipe of an attack as I came within reach, and I had no choice but to block it. My staff split in twain from the undue stress that I had forced it through, and I was left with a couple of sticks in its place. I had to roll to my right to avoid having an axe buried in my frontal lobe, but I sprang to my feet in recovery. He chuckled, presuming me almost beaten, and shouted a command in a foreign tongue to his surrounding men, who gave us some space to duke it out to the death. A still coherent aspect of my battle focused mind made note of this, and deduced from there that he must have been the leader of this war party.
“You are a dangerous opponent indeed” He observed, twirling his weapons in his hands, “Your scalp will make fine trophy to remember this victory!”
“Oh yeah?” I twirled my two sticks defiantly back at him, “Come and claim it”
He grinned maliciously and charged with an ululating screech. With room to maneuver, I sidestepped his hasty lunge and blindsided him with the flat end of my right stick to his cheekbone. I spun my left stick into a reverse grip as I used my muscle memory spell to summon my memories of watching a series of videos on how to properly use Escrima sticks and having it empower my movements. I spun in midair and kissed his face twice with both sticks, sending him reeling back. He spat out a globule of blood and growled like an angered animal. He renewed his assault with a modicum of caution this time, countering my footwork with his own. I could parry his axe and knife faster than he could my sticks however, and I was landing infinitely more blows to his person than he did to mine as I whaled on the pressure points of his gut.
He weakened over time, and each of his swings were a little more weighted than the last. His penultimate mistake in our duel was stupidly taking the bait of a feint and jabbing for my midsection with his knife. I knocked the weapon out of his hand with one of my sticks, did the same to his other as he tried to hack at me with his axe. With my opponent disarmed, I crisscrossed my sticks around his neck and impelled his face to meet my kneecap. As he wobbled from the stunning blow, I kicked at his jaw with a backflip, dislocating it and loosening several of his teeth in addition. He tumbled to his knees and went face first into the hardpan.
While I had triumphed over my opponent, his men were at work slaughtering the inner defensive line. Trail Mix’s crossbowmen were spread out too thin and therefore could not maintain the defensive integrity of the circle after the outer defenses were in shambles. I thought I spied a battle scarred Applejack and Braeburn fighting back to back against superior odds with a claymore (that she no doubt extracted from her space enchanted bag the millisecond I announced our enemy’s intrusion) and hand axe, but lost sight of them just as soon. The fire from the two wagons had jumped to three more, and the valuable supplies within were feeding the flames instead of the hungry mouths they were meant for. The cattle and horses were yowling and neighing in fright as the natives sought to capture them, and I resisted a smirk when North Wind bucked one of them to kingdom come. That smirk died though when I saw that the natives had dismantled enough of the women’s barricade that they had extracted one of their members, a woman with a familiar bonnet on her head. She was screaming at him in the tongue they shared, but he was too preoccupied raising his axe above his head to listen to her. Braeburn shrieked over the clamor of battle, bowling over men with no concern for his own health in his mad scramble to get to her. Time ground to a halt as his raised axe was at its apex, ready to fall at any moment.
I did the sensible thing and snatched the unconscious leader, unholstered my gun, aimed it at the smoke suffocated sky, and pulled the trigger.
The specially modified double action mechanism did its thing as the hammer cocked back before slamming down on the bullet in the chamber and ejecting it from my pistol with a mighty explosion of light and heat. The roar of my revolver was like the thundering crack that follows in the footsteps of lightning, and all were silenced by its voice. The native clutching Strongheart in his grasp gaped at me and lowered his weapon, comprehending my wordless threat. The tip of the gun barrel was in contact with their leader’s temple, and one wrong move would seal his fate as surely as the remainder of the settlers in this disaster of a wagon train relief effort. It must have become hot from the expulsion of the bullet, as the barrel had sizzled when pressed to his flesh. I realized with some irony that I was branding him, and we weren’t far removed from the cattle pens.
“Listen up and listen good!” I projected with my hearty reserves of lungpower, “If any of you so much as twitch wrong, this man will help me paint a mosaic of gore on the desert floor with his grey matter!” I gestured threateningly with my magnum, and I meant it too, “Now who amongst you scum has the authority to treat with me?”
There were Buffalo Braves grabbing for their bows, planning to free their leader from my grasp, but I manually cocked the hammer of my gun and they flinched. I shook my head at them and glared. I was in no mood for games.
The man who was about to unwittingly kill the daughter of his Chieftain spoke, “I. Speak. After. Wild Bull” He pronounced slowly and unsurely, unused to the common language of the settlers.
I glanced at the unconscious man on my arm, ‘This is convenient’
Strongheart saw an opportunity to be of aid and stood upright. She unloosed a string of harsh sounding words in the Buffalo Brave language at the man who had nearly ended her. He drew back in shock as his eyes became the size of passion fruits, and he questioned her with that same language. I put ‘invent a language parsing spell’ on my mental checklist for later, alternatively contenting myself to read their emotional expressions.
I dragged Wild Bull’s bulk through a crowd of hostile natives (while eyeballing them carefully and reacting stiffly when they thought me unwise) and Strongheart and the Brave who was second in command met me halfway.
“Strongheart, you okay?” I said to her out of concern, “Are you unharmed?”
“I am fine, Zenith” She replied, though her voice was tremulous, “Falling Leaves leads this war party now that Wild Bull…” She cast a disgusted peek at his unwillingly sleeping form, “…is incapable of leadership”
“Release. Wild Bull” Falling Leaves demanded, his hands gripping hard at the knife in his sash.
“Tell him that I will release Wild Bull to his custody after he withdraws his warriors, and not a moment beforehand” I instructed Strongheart, who relayed my terms to her kinsman. He muttered something in return that Strongheart had him repeat clearly.
“He says that these settlers are guilty of crimes against our people, and deserve to be put to the blade” She interpreted for me.
“He’s got his head stuck up his ass if he believes that” I retorted as an aside.
Strongheart transmitted those words to him anyway, and he bristled with anger, growling his response. The native girl actually blushed and refused to enlighten me to his meaning.
“I am tired of this negotiating” I sighed, “Tell him that he and his men can all die here, or depart with their leader and their lives intact. His choice”
Strongheart did so, and Falling Leaves grit his teeth as he looked to his men, who returned varying expressions of disappointment, rage, and even respect in the eyes of a scant few warriors. I had slain many of their number, and incapacitated several more in the course of their attack. The oldest fighters would back down if necessary, while the younger and foolish ones wanted to have a go at me themselves, not that it would do them any favors.
Falling Leaves snorted and grunted something nigh unintelligibly to Strongheart, who nodded, “He will relent, he says” She smiled sadly, “But I must be restored to our village and my father, where I will wed Wild Bull the night after this one”
“Now wait just a cotton pickin’ second!” Braeburn interjected, pushing his way past a couple of warriors who dwarfed him without fear, “If she’s goin’ back to her village, then ah’m comin’ with her!”
“The same goes fer me, too!” Applejack joined her voice to her cousin’s as she followed at his heels. The edge of her claymore was suspiciously absent of blood, and her body bore the scratches of uncountable near misses to add to her guilt. She could not bring herself to kill, even in a kill or be killed situation. Oh, AJ. What am I gonna do with you?
“No, Applejack” I gainsaid her, “You need to escort what’s left of these people safely to Appleloosa and apprise the local authorities as to what happened here. I suspect they’ll have to bolster the town defenses, for safety’s sake in nothing else”
I anticipated her stubbornness ahead of her, “Please, Applejack” I pleaded, “Do it for me?”
“Fine!” She spat, “But ya owe me a big one!”
“Yes I will” I agreed, “How is everyone? Where is Trail Mix?”
Her face contorted in a grimace, “He took an arrow to his throat… I don’t think he’ll make it to Appleloosa. The others are downright spooked, but alive. Those fellers that Tagalong assigned to us are also… gone”
Which did not prove true for so many of our company, who lay scattered around us in multiple variations of death poses.
“You murderin’ bastards!” One of the women shouted from the relative safety of the barricades, “The Princess will see you burn for this!”
“That is not for you to decide!” I shut her up, “I know that many of us have lost good people tonight, but that breed of resentment will lead to continued bloodshed down the line, which is unacceptable”
The woman glowered at me and grumbled darkly, but disappeared underneath the shelter of the barricades regardless.
“You… Are. Leader?” Falling Leaves inquired in his low rumbly baritone.
“I am now” I answered, “You and I have that in common it seems”
He hummed, understanding that. He uttered a command that had the lion’s share of his men slink into the shadows of the night, while a smaller group persisted to see that I held up my end of the bargain. I let go of Wild Bull (a strand of static passing from my fingertips into his body unnoticed) and stepped six paces in reverse, my hand resting on the grip of my pistol in case they tried something irredeemably stupid. Falling Leaves carried Wild Bull himself while his bodyguard surrounded Braeburn and Strongheart, with each of them remaining a healthy distance from me and my Thunder-Horror. I holstered my gun and walked to the pens where North Wind was rearing up slightly and nickering, his blood up from the Buffalo Brave’s merciless incursion. The wagon train was a mess, and the survivors were fighting to contain the fires once the natives had vacated, with Applejack taking the lead and coordinating their efforts. I saw her level a concerned stare at me in the corner of my vision as I mounted up. With an acknowledging smirk, I clapped my heels to North Wind’s ribs and set off after the retreating Buffalo Braves.
Turns out the Buffalo Braves had been tracking us for a while, as a whole slew of their horses were parked less than a mile off from our campsite. The men I was affixing myself to were wary of my presence, but knew that any attempts to violently remove me would be met with instantaneous mortality, so they tolerated me. Braeburn and Strongheart had latched themselves together, much to the disapproval of their captors. Falling Leaves lent them a horse that its previous owner no longer had use for and they seated themselves on it, with me there to guard their wellbeing. We rode side by side for over a day after that, the scenery transforming from the dust and solidified clay of the hardpan desert wastes to the dried grass of the river plains that these Buffalo men made their livelihoods in. Wild Bull’s state of unconsciousness lingered inexplicably, and his fellow natives could not wake him no matter what they did. I ate my meals separately from the natives and cast a proximity alert spell to wake me if they had the gall to try and murder me in my sleep. A truce might have been called, but my ability to trust them had taken a more damaging hit than any they managed to land on me in the corral skirmish.
We headed out to the edge of a river that meandered across the plains and pursued its flow. Somehow the natives discerned when to change course and we eventually came upon your stereotypical injun village nestled at the borders of desert and desert plains. Teepees and some wigwams dotted the ground in manifold specks with smaller specks moving in and out of those. The village was heavily populated, matching Magiville in concentration of peoples. Despite their numbers, the nomadic lifestyle they led ensured that their village’s defenses were inadequate to deal with the raiders they were only recently inflicted with.
“Behold. Our. Village” Falling Leaves spoke to me, some pride saturating his tone, “Is. It. Not. Wonderful?”
“Real special” I rolled my eyes, “Let us move on. I wish to speak with your Chieftain”
We did so, riding into the village and attracting the gazes of many a native woman, who drew themselves from their work of skinning buffalo hides, crafting utensils out of their bones, and wasting little of their namesake animal. They searched amongst us for their husbands, sons, or brothers. Heartbreak appeared in the expressions of those who could not find their significant others, and those expressions soured into hatred when they beheld the foreigners trespassing on their sacred grounds. Their reactions ranged from spitting in the dirt, making what I assumed were insulting gesticulations, and glaring emotionlessly at us. Their negative sentiments did a one eighty as they descried the figure of Strongheart atop one of the horses, and their whoops and hollers were both noisy and contagious in their fervor. Before five minutes had expired, the whole village was screaming its lungs out.
All this early evening racket had summoned the grand Chieftain of course, who exited his teepee with a stoic expression gracing his countenance. An elegant headdress stuffed with feathers from all kinds of birds flowed down his shoulders and gave him that majestic aura associated with his type. His build was the epitome of brute like, and even I would have second thoughts about challenging this man to an arm wrestling match. Wild Bull was dwarfed by this man, and a traitorous thought hatched in my brain that he was not wrong to circumvent the unenviable task of taking him head on. Beside him was a hunched over man with neck beads, a unique black feathered headdress distinct to the Chieftain’s bright one, and an embroidering pattern to his clothing that Rarity would have reveled the complexity of.
“Ah… my daughter has been found, this is an auspicious day!” He remarked in a booming, throaty voice, “And the men responsible for the foul deed are here as well? The Great Spirit smiles upon me”
“The Great Spirit would have you study deeper into this before presuming its glory” The old man abreast of him muttered, his whitened eyes seemingly fixated on me.
“Is this so, Shaman?” The Chief scratched at his chin, “Hmmm… Then perhaps I will stay their execution an additional moment or so. Falling Leaves! How is it that you come to us with less than half the number of men Wild Bull set out with?”
“I. Sorry” The man apologized, ashamed of himself, “<We attacked a column of settlers coming from the North to reinforce the one’s at Appleloosa. Wild Bull waited for an opportune moment to strike at them when they were weakest and took it. This man on the massive horse is unlike any warrior I have ever seen. His name is Zenith, or so he chooses to be referred to. He defeated Wild Bull in single combat and he threatened him with a Thunder-Horror if we did not withdraw! Your future son in law will not wake due to his encounter with him. You daughter was journeying with him and the other we have here, and she swears that they are her guardians>” He inclined his head submissively, “<I will banish myself from the village if my decision displeased you, O’ stalwart one>” My translation spell interpreted for me, projecting floating subtitles for my eyes to read. I had to spend a few hours eavesdropping on them with it before the deciphering of their language could be complete, but now it worked like a charm. It was interesting how he left out the part where he would have murdered his daughter had I not intervened with the Thunder-Horror, but evidently Buffalo Braves could be hypocritical too.
Chief Thunderfeet narrowed his eyes menacingly at me, “You have a Thunder-Horror in your possession? The weapon that has killed dozens of my stouthearted Braves and kidnapped innumerable others to be doomed to a worse fate?”
“Ya huh” I said in the affirmative. I could always fly off if they ganged up on me.
It was then that the Chief did the unexpected, “May I have a look at yours?”
I obliged, unholstering my pistol (and causing those closest to me to blanch in fear) and handing it to the Chieftain from up on North Wind’s saddle. He fiddled with it and examined its workings, and even the shaman was intrigued by the spinning sound the rotating cylinder made when spun.
“Stronger than a hundred spears” Thunderfeet remarked, once satisfied, “But louder than a thousand as well” He added, “It is hard to believe that this is what you milkskins are waging war on us with”
“With respect, Chieftain Thunderfeet” I adjusted the collar of my duster, “You are too hasty with your judgments. The settlers are innocent of any wrongdoings committed with ill will towards your people”
He snorted, “Then tell me, stranger who bested my potential son in law… who is responsible?”
“That is what I am here to ascertain on behalf of the Crown” I levitated my gun from the Chieftain’s clutches and back into my holster. The people encapsulating us hissed at my blatant act of irreverence.
“A magic caster…” The Chieftain rumbled in dismay, “The bane of my curiosities” His gaze settled on his daughter and Braeburn, who had desired to stay out of the spotlight from the reserved way they were behaving, “Strongheart. Come… embrace your father” He held out his arms in a fatherly gesture, a smile on his face for the first instance since I had met him.
She did so happily, running into his arms as if she were a young child again.
“Oh, my little Strongheart!” He exclaimed in uncharacteristic relief, “How I prayed to the Great Spirit for you to return to us, and it has made it so. Why did you disappear from home?” He asked her, his papa bear mode activated.
“It’s not a story for the public to hear of, father, though I have many things to tell that I should have told you long before that” She excused, excellently diverting his suspicions with her own pressing words.
“So be it” He exhaled with fake resignation, before addressing the crowd, “Unlock the storehouses! Tonight we celebrate my daughter coming home to her people”
The denizens of the village all cheered in unison. Everyone except for the women whose husbands and sons were deceased vacated the area in a ten meter radius of the Chieftain’s teepee.
“Why do you linger?” The shaman piped up, “Your beloved one’s spirits are now joined with the Great Spirit. Do not grieve for their passing. Be at peace, as they are” The older women whose faith was resistant to change left us alone, while their younger daughter in laws begrudgingly followed.
“Come with me” The old man bid me as he scooted by me, and there was something about him that had me comply with his wishes without raising a fuss.
We entered the teepee after the Chief and his daughter, with Braeburn dragging his feet to their rear. The interior of the tent was adequate for fifteen people to sit around the crackling campfire in the middle. There was a latticework of cords and rope weaved out of buffalo hair. From it hung a diversified number of dream catchers and other fetishes that I surmised were meant to ward off evil while galvanizing what was good. There were mats on the floor that were cushioned with tatami like pillows that I was certain had to be from a settler’s town, as their flowery designs were too Arcanian to be the craftsmanship of the Buffalo Braves. The Chief sat cross-legged by the fireside and beckoned the other two to join him. Braeburn squatted crosswise to him while Strongheart sat to their respective left and rights. I would have sat with them, but the bizarrely intuitive shaman shook his head in the negative at me. This was a conversation betwixt the three of them alone.
“So…” The Chief of the roving Buffalo tribe stared across the fire to his opposite number, namely Braeburn, “You wish to take my only daughter’s hand in marriage?” This man was no blockhead. He saw the proximity of his daughter to the Appleloosan and inferred its context from there. And yet his expression betrayed nothing, much like me, which increased my admiration for his skill in keeping his opponents guessing.
“How did ya…?” Braeburn gulped nervously and pulled at his collar, “Y-yes sir- I mean Chief! I l-love your daughter very much, and would v-very much like to spend the rest of mah life with her, if’n that would be at all possible” He stammered like an adorable idiot. I couldn’t see for the life of me what Strongheart saw in him, but it was increasingly obvious that Braeburn had a noble heart, which is probably what had her falling for him to begin with.
He thrummed deeply, the vocalization vibrating in the closed space of the tent and adding to his imposing figure, “That is… a difficult proposition you propose, Braeburn of the Appleloosan Settlers. My daughter is rather precious to me, and not only because she is the sole blood of my blood, but because she is the vessel in which the spirit of the Braves lives on in future Chieftains, should she conceive children of her own” Strongheart blushed, the concept of bringing children of her own into this world weighing on her mind, “Tradition dictates that only a worthy man can guarantee the prosperous posterity of my people. And a man has already presented himself to be the Sun and Stars to her Moon”
‘Woah, picking up some serious Dothraki vibes here’ I humorously cogitated. Only these people did not worship their horses or make dried meat strips out of them, as far as I knew.
“A man who will not love her the way she deserves to be loved!” He adamantly insisted.
“Hmm… but why should I grant you, an outsider, her hand when it is betrothed to another?” He posed a difficult question, “Breaking a marriage oath is no laughing matter. Betrothals in our tribe have been upheld since the days of my father, and his father, and his father before him…”
He would have droned on, but Strongheart mercifully put a stopper on that, “Father! Is it not clear to you?” She sidled next to him and inserted her arm between his, “I love him too… as I can no longer picture my life without him in it. If you compel me to marry a man I could never love, it will be as if you plunged a knife into my heart yourself”
His eyebrows quirked at that, but he did not reply.
Braeburn struck while Strongheart’s iron was hot, “I am willin’ to carry out whatever service it takes to become a member of this tribe. If it means I can spend the rest of mah life with your daughter” They shared a touching look with each other.
“Do you swear to defend her honor, her virtue, and all that she is even if it necessitates laying down your life in exchange for hers?” The square jawed man put him through the wringer.
“I do” Braeburn vowed with no trace of hesitation or self doubt, “Forever” He added, nuzzling his woman.
“Then in sight of men and the Great Spirit” The shaman raised his arms above his head in what I figured was an official motion, “I pronounce you husband and wife”
Braeburn was shocked speechless for a minute, the same with Strongheart. So I reacted for them, “Huh? Just like that? What about making him an official member of the tribe? Isn’t there some grueling process or other that he must go through?” I was a sucker for particular traditions myself.
The Chieftain bore an amused glimmer on his mahogany irises, “Was he not present in a battle between milkskin and Brave? Does he not display the scars that acts of bravery would afford of him? My daughter loves this man, I can see it in her very soul, and this one demonstrates all of the qualities that I would expect of my future son in law,” He chortled to himself, “even if his flesh is lurid. By my authority as the head of the Buffalo Brave tribe, I would recognize him as a brother at our war councils, and a man with a perspective that is broadened beyond our own narrow one”
“I guess he has a point” I conceded, before rolling my hand at AJ’s now married cuz, “Aren’t you going to kiss your bride, Braeburn?”
He didn’t need to be prompted twice, planting his lips to his ladylove’s and passionately kissing her as he held her in his arms. Chief Thunderfeet seemed jubilantly happy for his daughter, and when he and the shaman locked gazes, an unspoken message passed between them. As the two disengaged from the other to come up for air, the Chieftain ushered them out of the tent, citing that it was time to proclaim the news to the rest of the village. The sounds of their combined, halfhearted protests were cut off as the tent flap overlapped onto itself. It was just the shaman and I now. He dug his hand into a buffalo leather pouch and retrieved some kind of powder from its contents. He tossed that powder onto the fire and it created quite the spectacular light show, shifting from the usual orange to a brilliant blue, a melancholy indigo, a virulent violet, and finally flipping the spectrum to settle on a mesmerizing shade of red. It may have been my overactive imagination, but I could have sworn that I saw indistinct shapes moving from within the fire… shapes that casted shadows on the spongy, flexible walls of the teepee. The fumes from the burnt powder suffused the air, and smelled the multitudinous way Elysian tea tasted.
“You carry a great darkness in your heart, chosen warrior of the stars” He articulated poetically, his cloudy corneas boring perfectly into mine contrary to his blindness, “One that will consume your soul entirely unless you devise a way to control or release it. A warrior of light with unfettered darkness inside of him will cast many shadows on those who follow him, and such a thing is dangerous for all who are involved” As if cued, the shadows began to take on more menacing shapes as they danced around us. Even the outline of the shaman himself was becoming hazy, as if he was there and yet somewhere else as well.
“Are you suggesting that I have a catharsis?” I pondered aloud, my words echoing in the tent. Or was it echoing in my mind? I felt funny, and yet I was unable to feel alarm at that either.
“I am suggesting that you purge yourself of this inner turmoil, lest it drags the one’s you love down with it” He countered, “You have already seen death, and you will see it many times over before you reach the end of your path. Beware the evil one,” The shadows became spindly, like spider legs, “for its poisonous influence has unfurled like a blanket over the central nations of the Earth, sowing hatred and reaping despair where the soils are most fertile. Even here its seductive whispers are heard, and they bring black tidings to those who can decipher its true meaning”
He went on, “Your worst enemy is up to its old tricks, and is employing some newer ones as well. It will utilize both overt and covert means to subdue the world, to make it fight amongst itself so it cannot stand united again like it did to its detriment eons ago. The past catches up with you. It knows of you, you who call yourself Zenith… as you have foiled a segment of its plans once before. It obsesses itself with finding you, and perhaps enthralling you as its most powerful servant. It will endeavor to tempt you as it has tempted countless before you, and when that fails, it will seek to harm you indirectly through those that you love”
“Keep them close” The shaman advised, “They are indescribably dear to you, like lifelines in an ocean of uncertainty. This is both fortunate and unfortunate. They are the one thing keeping that inner deadness of yours at bay, and as such, the evil one will target them however it can. They give you reason to resist its lure, and that makes them as much a threat to it as you are. You’re a curious one, I’ll admit. You’ve killed so many without second guessing yourself, and yet you respect the unspoken vows of the women you love. You would never betray them, even if they did not extend you the same courtesy”
“How do you know all this?” I gasped as electricity coursed through my spine, eliciting goose pimples on my flesh.
“My connection with the Great Spirit allows me to see past the physical realm and into the infinite vastness beyond our own. I am blind, and yet I can see the minutiae governing the higher mysteries dictating the finest points of each of our destinies. Yours will take you places you could not believe existed, ask things of you that you would never dream of, and there will be people depending on you in each of these lands. Much rests on your destiny, and even I cannot divine what sacrifices it will require of you to see it to its ultimate fulfillment” He explained.
Words came unbidden from my soul, “Why did they choose me? I’m not a savior, no matter how much others will claim I am”
“That is a question that only you can answer” The shaman told me, before his tone deviated from its mystical qualities, “They come. Wake up!”
I inhaled sharply through my nose as I picked myself off the floor. I had fallen asleep and slumped forward until the nub of my nose was rubbing the dirt sometime ago, as it was dark outside the tent. The shaman was nowhere to be seen, and even his footprints suggested that he was here one moment and had mysteriously vanished the next.
‘And that’s partly why I followed Nancy Reagan’s Just Say No policy strictly to the letter when I was a wee lad’ I struggled to form coherent speech in my head. I didn’t even want to know what I sounded like.
Despite the strangeness of its presentation, his words resonated with me. I needed to be extra protective around the women in my life, but in a way that wouldn’t seem overbearing. Especially since the Great Dissonance thing that I was here to defeat would seek to use them as weapons against me, which I still didn’t quite understand. The only people who knew about my relationships were the people I was in relationships with. I might have been getting accustomed to this polyamory shtick, but that didn’t mean I divulged it to anybody outside that sacred trust. I got to my feet and dusted myself off, shelving all further thoughts of destiny and all that jazz.
I rubbed at my eyes to rid them of the blurriness that the residual malaise had imparted on me, and I almost rubbed my eyeballs raw before I realized that this wasn’t going away as quickly as I yenned it to. I stumbled outside to find the nearest healer to recommend a treatment for screwy vision and paused at what I discovered as I pushed aside the flap of the tent. Flickering shadows painted the ground and sky, and the natives milling about the village or dancing around bonfires as they celebrated the marriage of their Chieftain’s daughter to an adopted member of their tribe were illuminated with white light. Some lights were whiter than others, but each one was unique and beautiful in its own right. I idly wondered if I had gained a vision setting for Soulfire, but dismissed that as being ridiculous. My eyes were sending the correct information, but my brain had taken a holiday and wasn’t up to the task without a little time to cool off.
I granted its request, retreating into the Chieftain’s tent to wait out the residuum of my whacky, mind altering Peyote substitute’s influences. Queerly enough, the drug had only affected my mind for the most part, as my body still responded to commands, albeit with hesitation and sluggish locomotion. I swore that if I ever saw that crazy blind shaman again I’d tear the caul caking his eyes clean off. That was two things now that I had partaken in that I would not have done in my home world, drink alcohol, and do hallucinogenic drugs. I did not care if they were prophetic, they left you with nasty sensation in your lower extremities afterwards, or at least this drug did.
My brooding was rudely interrupted by the telltale signs of shouting, coupled with the panicked screams of women coming from the outer fringes of the village. This din was punctuated every once and a while with a sharp, popping smack and vicious laughter emanating from some scumbag. I instinctively charged out of that tent with my hand on my gun. My presence was vital out there, my sense of unbalance be damned! There was a spate of Buffalo Brave women and children scurrying for refuge at the center of the village, while men armed with bows went the opposite direction. Needing a superior vantage to survey the carnage, I spread my wings and climbed a decent height off ground with a series of flaps. I observed what was happening with my eagle eyed vision. People of pale white light were running and shouting as dark shadowy men on horseback rode them down like dogs and snickered heartlessly as they killed them. The white lights disappeared with their demise, and by then I had an inkling as to what my modified eyesight was showing me. These native Buffalo Braves were relatively pure down to their souls, while these outlaws on horseback were so dark in their deeds that they were like living shadows. Though I saw plenty of lights in the protected center of the village were greyer than their counterparts. My Soulsight must have been tooled for people only, as animals were vaguely shaped blobs that lacked these pretty lights.
I swooped into action, where the greatest numbers of shadow men were causing havoc in a semi clearing with four large bonfires where festivities were taking place. The main village of the Buffalo Braves had plenty of men to defend it once they got their faculties in order, but the celebrations decreed by the Chieftain meant that many of them this night were drunk off their asses on fermented buffalo’s milk. Those that were coherent enough to pull a bow string were being shot or run down by the dark men on horseback. These men meant business, and any who resisted were permanently dispatched. One or two of which had what appeared to be volley guns, which were essentially multi-barreled short range muskets and used to devastating effect on fleshy targets.
“<To arms, to arms my brothers! To ar-> RAGGH!” A native man was trampled to death by a flood of his own people, who were too occupied hotfooting it to anywhere that would be their sanctuary to realize what they had done to their kinsman.
Why the outlaws chose to converge on this spot made sense if you considered the situation from their twisted perspective. This was the nearest wide open area where the Buffalo Braves were congregating. There was an abundance of exposed women and children that were ripe for plucking, and they availed themselves of the diverse selection. The shadow horsemen that weren’t brandishing flintlock styled pistols like bandaleros were singling out and lassoing fleeing natives. A Buffalo Brave warrior who sought to get an arrow off at a man dragging a screaming woman behind him on his horse was blasted from a man on his six, his white light extinguished forevermore. They were getting swatted like flies, and as per usual, I was the only person around that could put a damper on things for the enemy. So I ferreted out the highest concentration of shadow men and prepped a magical outburst spell that would knock them off their horses and make them easy pickings for me. I dived like a human arrow and impacted into the earth (after double casting an inertial dampener spell on myself, obviously), throwing out a wave of magical energy that swept the seven horses of the shadow men off their hooves and onto their rumps. By an odd stroke of luck, one man’s gun went off from the act and the round tore into an adjacent man’s chest, killing him.
I unholstered my magnum and without waiting for the bewildered men to recover, shot them all dead with a single clip. I flicked my cylinder to the open position and telekinetically inserted a fresh round of ammunition. I magicked over their unfired weapons with the dual purpose of keeping one for study (though it was a glorified paperweight without any ammo in the chamber) and to arm the locals, some of whom recognized me from the wagon train incident and rallied to me, as I was the most competent fighter in the field. I dove behind the cover of a water barrel as a hail of lead came my way from these men’s friends, dropping some of my injun pals and scattering them once more. My cover was rapidly disintegrating, and my clothes were becoming wet from the water. I blind fired over my head, spraying and praying that I hit someone.
“ACK! Damned sumbitch got me!” An outlaw cursed.
A manly yelp of pain answered that prayer as one of the men had his arm torn off by a hollow point bullet. I reloaded within the span of a second, and tagged my opponents with True Sight (which only made their outlines brighter for some reason) before relocating to supplementary cover. Any men who attempted to escape from the area with their prizes found their horses shot out from under them. I didn’t enjoy the cruelty I was visiting upon those horses, but their owners had to be stopped at all costs, and I placed a priority on human life first. Fluttershy would understand.
Reinforcements arrived in the form of the Chieftain and his twenty strong bodyguard, who had taken advantage of the distraction I created and rushed in bows blazing, felling five from their steeds. The bushwhacked outlaws realized that this was one raid where they wouldn’t have their way and wisely decided to beat a retreat. One man in a black bowler hat and in desperate need of a shave refused to give up without putting one round of musket ammo where it would do maximum damage. He galloped his horse through the thicket of soaring arrows in a beeline for the Chieftain. There was this maniacal grin on his face as he got within firing range of the massive man, only for his horse’s heart to spontaneously explode with the encouragement of my meticulously aimed bullet. The dead equine plowed into the dirty floor and flung its rider from the saddle, where he skidded to a halt less than a meter from the man’s feet.
“Welcome to my village” The Chief deadpanned to him, “A welcome you have surely overstayed” He motioned to his two closest men, “Get him up, and deprive him of his weapons” His men obeyed without difficulty.
“Where have you and your gang of miscreants taken these people’s family members?” I asked him.
“Bet you wouldn’t be so tough without that fancy pistol of yours, ya son of a tavern wh-” My boot made an imprint on his stomach before he could complete that sentence.
“OOPMH! Heh heh… They’re having the time of their lives workin’ in the darkness! Don’tchu fret, the twins are takin’ real good care of them!” The outlaw leered at us, hawking a globule of phlegm from his throat at us, which we both dodged.
‘The Twins…?’ Could he be indicating who I thought he was?
One of the natives keeping him restrained worked him over a bit until the Chieftain decided that he would not spill his guts of his own free will, so he assisted him in doing so with a scarily big hunting knife the Chieftain had traded for with the Appleloosans. He ordered half of his men to dispose of the corpse and tend to the wounded, while the other half would make an account of their losses.
“I must thank you for defending my people, Zenith” The Chieftain congratulated me, “Many more of my people would have been lost tonight had you not intervened”
“Defending those in need is a part of what I do” I brushed off the praise, “Where is Braeburn and Strongheart?”
At that the Chieftain’s stance became nervous, “They refrained from celebrating with us or partaking of buffalo stew. The last I saw of them, they had wandered off on their own to have some alone time. I pray to the Great Spirit that they were nowhere near the fighting, but Braeburn is not a coward. He would defend my daughter to his dying breath, as he pledged”
Fate must have been conspiring against us, as a bruised and battered Braeburn limped towards us. One of this eyes had swollen and a bullet had grazed his thigh, shearing a red mark along its surface. I ran over to meet him and support his weight on my shoulders. The Chief on the other hand, had deduced what this meant and was in his face straightaway.
“Braeburn! Where is my daughter?” He roared at the beaten man.
Braeburn sniffled and whimpered, unable to muster the words. The Chief’s stoic features melted as unleashed a wail of grief that was mirrored several times over that night.
⁂
As to be expected, Chieftain Thunderfeet did not receive the news of his only daughter’s kidnapping well. So he banished Braeburn from the village until he met his obligations as a husband and brought her home safe and sound as he did before. However, before we were forced off the village territory, I visited the medicine tent where Wild Bull was being tended with herbal remedies to wake him from his slumber. The truth was that I had rendered him comatose with a spell that was borderline forbidden to use. He would not wake unless I removed the nigh undetectable enchantment, and his generous muscle mass would deteriorate over the years. It was merciful compared to outright killing him, so I had no regrets. His comatose state also made the task of delving into his brain and reviewing his memories a cakewalk, thanks to my many dream walking sessions spent with Luna enlightening me to the inner workings of a person’s sleeping noggin. I extracted one critical name from his mind: Crooked Cards. The man was the insider that Wild Bull had divulged his people’s secrets to, and was a notorious gambler at one of Appleloosa’s shady saloons, the Salt Lick.
Braeburn rode to Appleloosa with me on North Wind’s back and we reunited with Applejack at her cousin’s simple wooden house with the lime green panels. We debriefed her on what occurred at the Chieftain’s village while she likewise informed us about the condition that Appleloosa was in. Since only a mere quarter of our wagon train’s beneficial supplies were delivered (with over seventy settlers dead to show for our efforts. Celestia would be furious, but there was hope to bring peace to the western natives and the southern settlers), we had prolonged the deadline to Appleloosa’s food shortages by a week. Once that week had passed though, the settlers would have to abandon this town for less harassed settlements. Chief Thunderfeet was skeptical to the settler’s innocence, contrary to what he had seen, but was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt due to my actions and Braeburn’s (though not as much after Strongheart’s inopportune kidnapping). He sent out riders to each of the tinier Buffalo Brave villages instructing them to switch to defense alone.
Applejack was legitimately sorry that Strongheart was literally torn from her cousin’s arms, and admitted then that she wished she could have been nicer to her while she had the chance. In spite of his depression over losing the love of his life to the same bandit raids that were plaguing the natives, the only thing that seemed to get him out of his funk was for Applejack to cheekily suggest that he show me a tour of the town. Before then I had never seen a man go from melancholic to ecstatic in five seconds flat, and I was swept up in his whirlwind as he whizzed me out the door. Appleloosa was your typical Wild West style boomtown, like a fusion of Tombstone and Abilene with a sprinkling of Armadillo for good measure. The train line stopped adjacent to the town (because it sped up the transfer of precious metal ores from the mining operations nearby) and continued over the horizon to the lands at the extreme edges of the Princesses’ authority. I hardly had a minute to analyze a single building adequately before Braeburn dragged me to the next location of interest. We pored over the sheriff’s office, the milliner’s shop, and that clock tower where the regional governor presided over the daily operations of the town.
“And this here is the whorehouse!” Braeburn enthusiastically concluded his guided tour with a grin, motioning to an unassuming building to his six.
That tripped me up, “Wait… what?” I incredulously uttered, doing a double take.
He chuckled at the confounded expression on my face and smiled slyly at me, “I was jus’ checkin’ to see if you were listening’, pardner. Prostitution’s an illegal and rightly immoral profession in these here parts. You see anythin’ like that happenin’, you let me or Sheriff Silverstar know, m’kay?”
I nodded mutely, “Sure, sure. Where’s the Salt Lick Saloon?”
“Eager to wet yer palette?” He inquired, his energy from acting the role of tour guide slowly forsaking him as he began to subconsciously hunch his shoulders.
“Something like that” I scanned my surroundings for a wooden depiction of a salt lick in this bustling, skirmish weary town. Once I caught sight of it, I made my way towards it with an enthusiasm whipped Braeburn lagging in the rear.
The Salt Lick resembled your run of the mill, western themed saloon. It even had the swinging doors. Lively, jaunty music emanated from within, and some part of me felt that it was a tune that I had heard before. I pushed through the hinging doors and saw a scene that I believed only existed in the movies. Inside was a bar with a stage in the background. Nobody was conducting any performances at the moment, but the grey whiskered piano guy didn’t seem to care. Cigarette smoke clogged the air and billowed from a green felt table where the betting man’s card games were transpiring. Drunken bar patrons swigged at their drinks and swayed uneasily in their chairs after imbibing a few too many. The barman was a serious fellow with a handlebar mustache and a monocle suspended over his right eye. In all honesty that man must have originated from Concordia, because he had more class in one of his cufflinks than everyone in the establishment possessed before we entered.
I approached the counter and hailed the barkeep, who finished pouring a drink from one of his customers before focusing on us.
“Welcome to mah establishment!” The barkeep greeted us cheerfully in a practiced local accent, “What can I do ya fer?”
“We’re looking for information” I told him in my actual accentless accent, “And maybe a few drinks while we’re here”
He smiled cordially, “Well you came to the right place! The gossip here flows almost as freely as the beer!” He exclaimed jovially, despite the looming threat of vengeful Buffalo Braves hanging over the town, “Anything in particular you interested in?” It was not lost on me that he reverted his accent back to his Concordian one. I slapped a hundred bit coin on the counter and flicked it towards the baffled barkeep, “A man named Crooked Cards. Would he happen to play games of chance here at this saloon from time to time?”
The bartender surreptitiously pretended to wipe the counter while scooping in the coin, “Perhaps” He answered in a low conspiratorial voice, “But you did not get this information from me”
“Any idea where I might find him?” I gestured twice to the man’s homebrewed beer.
“Hmm…” His brown furrowed, “My memory isn’t what it used to be. A lot foggier these days” He prompted greedily, but that was how this sort of thing went down.
“May this golden piece of sunshine evaporate that fog, and let the light of truth shine forth!” Was my hammy retort, my munny bag minus another hundred bits.
This barkeep was beginning to like me, “Amen to that, brother. You’re in luck, since Crooked is right over there at yonder table, and he’s sometimes gone for weeks at a time! He’s here to swindle those poor fools out of their money as usual”
“Glad I’m not one of them” I remarked, examining this informant of a man from afar and watching him clean house at the card table. The three other men laid down their hands for the pot, which consisted of everybody’s bits. Crooked grinned a sickly grin as his hand trumped all others.
He cackled and raked in the bits as the others moaned their collective disappointment, “Now now, fellers! A win’s a win!” He pulled a hundred bit coin from the pile and tossed it onto the table with a flip, “Here. I won’t have it said that I left y’all with nothin’!”
The losers at the table all stared at the coin for a long moment before giving each other nasty glares. It devolved into a shouting match of who had the second rate hand and therefore deserved the coin. I snorted in disgust at the underhanded act as Crooked slinked up the staircase and presumably towards his rented lodgings.
“How long do you reckon he’ll be here for?” I inquired of the barkeep, spending one last coin.
“I reckon until tomorrow morning” He replied graciously, “He usually shoots the breeze with some friend of his with quite the tan”
I wanted to facepalm at how ignorant people really were of the Buffalo Braves, but suppressed the urge.
I was about to tug at Braeburn’s vest and notify him that I had all I came for when the universe decided that I needed more than I currently craved and desired to up my criteria. A man’s ingress into the Saloon had both of our attention. It had my attention because the bulges at his hips were unmistakably in the form of guns, while it had Braeburn’s attention for disparate reasons.
Braeburn apparently had met him under less pleasant circumstances, “You’ve got stones the size of boulders on you, showin’ up here, Mister co-leader of the band of outlaws who’d soon shoot a man before attemptin’ to pry him from his lover the fair way” Braeburn glared jagged daggers at the man as he came to a halt within a few feet of us. Which was close enough to smell his putrid breath, tragically.
“You’re easy men to find. And fair ain’t how I ride. As for your point… this establishment is open to the public, is it not?” The brazen co-leader of the outlaws grinned, flashing us his half rotted teeth. He reminded me of a huskier version of Lee Van Cleef, but with less style.
“To honest citizens of the town, not men of your kind! If’n you can be called men a’tall!” Braeburn growled.
He ignored that, focusing on me, “You’re the one that’s been wreaking havoc with our lucrative operations in this dustbowl, aren’tcha? The one who impeded us at the main village? That takes skill. Have yourself a drink! On me” He offered me in a snide tone, leaning against the counter. His free hand pulled the material of his weather worn, brown duster aside to reveal the pistols holstered at his hip.
I met his coal dark eyes, “Awfully decent of you” I exhibited no fear. The Flintlocks at his hips were from a bygone age by my standards anyway. One shot for every ten seconds and inaccurate at most distances too. Up this close though, getting shot with one of those was bound to hurt, so I kept friendly.
“Bartender!” The big, greasy brigand spoke up with a grin, “Give him a Pit Viper Surprise, on me!”
“Yes sir!” The barkeep went to a special cupboard marked with strange symbols and opened it up. Inside were bottles that looked more like they belonged in a chemical station cabinet than in a saloon. Somewhere in the back of my head, this scene was nostalgically reminiscent to something from my childhood.
I licked my lips. This stuff didn’t look a third as poisonous as that crap that Berry Punch concocted for me that one occasion. That is consequentially the last time I ever get anything mildly potent at her establishment. The barkeep mixed the liquids together and swirled them with a stirring rod before nervously setting it before the man who ordered him to make it. The bandit stared at him in amusement before slapping the glass over to me. I caught it mid slide and downed it in a single gulp, twitching my jaw left to right as the liquid burned its way down my gullet. It was a bit on the spicy side, but otherwise was a sip of Cholula sauce compared to the Black Death (As Berry should have named her concoction) that I had before making a fool of myself in front of Lyra.
My antagonist was impressed, “Well whataya know, the man can hold his liquor!” He wiped a tear from his eye as he laughed, “It’s a cryin’ shame that you can’t be one of us. The wages that the Twins set for us are… adjustable shall we say. We get to rid the south of those savages, and we have a helluva time doin’ it”
He sighed, “But there are fun times and then there’s business. You two interrupted our last cullin’, and we can’t let go of that lightly. So here’s what you two are gonna do” His voice became sinister, “About thirty miles from this town is another one, an abandoned one by the name of Tumbledown Tree. You two are gonna meet us there in the middle of the street at midday sharp tomorrow so we can settle our accounts like men, instead of animals. Do you understand me?”
“And why we would do that when I have my own accountant?” Braeburn snarked at him, the alcohol chipping at his self control.
“Cause if you don’t, your lady friend of the native persuasion is gonna be real disappointed” His forked tongue was practically tasting the air as he spoke, “In fact, the boys and I might jus’ take turns comfortin’ her in her emotional distress”
Braeburn’s pupils were pinpricks at this unfortunate chunk of news.
“Now you better show up, golden boy,” He spat mockingly, “or I’ll slit that buffalo whore’s throat mahself”
Braeburn bristled and moved to throttle him, but I restrained him before he did something he could not take back.
“I ain’t no raconteur… but I can match you wit for twit, I guarantee you!” He all but hissed at him.
The brute of a man chuckled, “Your butt buddy there has finer sense than you do, boy”
My eyes narrowed, “Might I know your name, if you would be so kind?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him because I was the Prince of sociopathic apathy.
He scoffed, disinterested, “What’s it to you?”
“I’d like to attach a label to that ugly mug of yours, before you die” I calmly replied, no hint of emotion in my voice.
“Heh! That’d be the day! T’woud be mah pleasure. I’m Angel Eyes” He removed his hat and bowed mockingly, “And yours?”
I wasn’t sure why, but I decided to have a little fun with this, “Arch Stanton”
“Well, Arch Stanton” He stood to his feet and walked away from us, “Hope yer ready to meet yer maker”
“I am, actually!” I called out to him, “Are you?”
He waved his hand back at me noncommittally and exited the saloon. Past the swinging doors I could see a whole gaggle of men on horseback who were itchin’ for a fight. Their co-leader relayed the news to them and they had predatory smiles on their faces as they galloped out of town with all due haste.
“Why’d you tell him your name was Arch Stanton?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth, “It’s a tad dishonest, don’t ya think?”
I shrugged, “Your cousin in the Element of Honesty, not me”
Braeburn’s bravado dissolved once his rationality manifested, “Oh… we gotta talk to the Sheriff about this”
Our next stop after the saloon was the Sheriff’s, which was a blue wood paneled building with three wooden walls and one constructed out of cobblestone bricks, and you only get one guess as to which side that one was on. Silverus Silverstar was a middle aged, brown haired man with a mustache similar in likeness to the barkeep’s at the Salt Lick. His garments were all denim jeans, a cotton shirt, a denim vest with a namesake silver star badge pinned to it, and a red bandana around his neck to complement the one running along the crown of his hat. He had three deputies on hand to deal with emergencies. The first was Clinky Keys, who was a part time pianist at every saloon and tavern in town, and who was responsible for locking inmates in. The second was Lone Star, who modeled himself after his older mentor. Lastly there was Shooting Star, who was the only man in town who managed to get his hands on a one of a kind firearm that had a flip cocking action. Braeburn thought the world of the Sheriff, but the man I saw in that building was more interested in hiding behind his desk than riding out to face down evil where it reared its ugly head.
“C’mon Sheriff, ya gotta do sumthin’ for us!” Braeburn begged of him, “Have deputy Shootin’ Star accompany us to watch our backs. He’s the only other guy ah know who has a Thunder-Horror and knows how to use it!” The other being myself, of course.
“They’re labeled as firearms, Braeburn” He corrected him, “As the duly sworn Sheriff of this here town of Appleloosa, ah’m compelled to protect it. This little duel of yours with those wretched miscreants lies outside of its boundaries, therefore I regret to say that I cannot lend you an extra gun, as it would leave this town woefully without its sole shooter, and with the Braves poised to attack us at any minute I’m unable to part with that kind of talent” He regretfully informed us, “What I can do however, is offer you mah prayers of hope that you might prevail in this endeavor. If not… well at least the undertaker will get some extra business” He said, injecting some of his black humor into our discourse.
‘That’s a real reassuring vote of confidence right there’ I expected better of Celestia’s lawmen, but I supposed that they had their limits.
“C’mon Braeburn,” I pulled at him, “we're not going to receive the help we want here. Frontier Justice will have to suffice”
He was exasperated, “But you’re an Age-”
“No” I shushed him.
As I spun in place, Silverstar noticed the sigil on the hilt of my Mage-blade, which was strapped to my belt, “Hold on a tick… aren’t you that burgeoning Agent that the Princess announced some days ago?”
“Possibly” I verbally swerved, “Why did you ask?”
“You’re based in Magiville, aren’t you?” He grinned, “That’s where my niece lives!”
I stifled a sigh, “Is your niece named Silver Spoon by any chance?” He wobbled his head in the affirmative, “You need to advise her to make some friends… emphasis on the pluralization” I made myself scarce.
There would be no aid from his end, even for an Agent of the Crown. I would need to have a chat with one of the Princesses regarding the law in these parts at some other time. I had to prepare Braeburn for a showdown, Arch Stanton style.
⁂
Of course people couldn’t keep their bloody mouths shut. Virtually everyone had been eavesdropping on the challenge issued to us by Angel Eyes, and they simply were compelled to tell their friends and their friend’s friends about it. By morning, everybody in Appleloosa was watching from the windows and everybody held their breath as we exited the Saloon for some liquid courage (all for Braeburn’s sake) and made for the posts where our horses were hitched. The bell in the church’s belfry rung out once, signaling the onset of noon in half an hour. I’ll admit, numerically we were at a disadvantage. Smoky Joe’s (the name of the uglier co-leader) Gang outnumbered us by a good five to one ratio. I was given a rundown by the local townsfolk into the individual identities of this ornery gang of outlaws, which not only committed atrocious crimes against the natives, but the settlers too. It was me and Brae, versus ten of the meanest outlaw rabble rousers in the Mild West. On top of this, they all had firearms while Brae only retained an old family crossbow for defense, and I had Dee-Dee, which was unproven in an actual duel so far.
He was a decent shot with it from what I witnessed back in Blood Gulch (as the name of our fateful encampment was christened) against the Buffalo Braves, but he might as well have been armed with a knife for all the good it would do him in a gunfight. It wasn’t all bad news though. The game changing means for winning this fight rested stoically on my thigh. I was glad that I mentally forwent a bandolier and opted for a smaller and visually inconspicuous ammo belt when Discord conjured this for me. Nobody truly knew what kind of extreme firepower I was packing based on first glance, and even the outlaws had to have been fidgeting.
One might wonder, why did I name my semi magical Magnum after my adventuress girlfriend? Well I think it should be obvious. Being that both of them are loud mouthed, hit a hell of a lot harder than you’d expect at first glance, and both radiate this latent, sensual energy the longer you behold them. And no, I’m not comparing my gun with a phallic symbol. Freud was out of his mind.
We mounted up on North Wind and Dusk Breeze, who faithfully conveyed us across the desert to this ghost town where our showdown would transpire. Applejack remained behind (which took about as long as you can imagine it did), with clenched fists and a reddish countenance. I persuaded her that it was better that she leave this matter to us, since she wasn’t versed in ranged combat and I would see her alive and unspoiled rather than dead and full of lead. I hammered the concept of ‘gun beats knife nine times out of ten’ into her thick skull, and she relented sometime at two in the morning, which was fine by me. Braeburn needed the sleep more than I did. I had the solemn tranquility in me knowing that I was about to confront evil, and I had the means to wipe it out with an elementary pull of the trigger. I refilled my Magnum’s ammo (less painful the second occasion, though it did not have to generate as many rounds) and my belt was studded with the shiny shell casings.
Tumbledown Tree was yet another quintessential ghost town. The paint of the buildings had been stripped away by sandstorms, the structures had actually crumbled in places, and there was an aura of desolation about the town that I could sense even from a comfortable viewing distance. Braeburn was daunted, but I urged my steed on and he reluctantly followed. The men waiting for us there would have seen our faint dust cloud, and were likely setting up an ambush in case the ‘honorable meeting’ went south for them (Heh, south). Being the cynic I am, I had accepted these possibilities and prepared myself for them. I fingered the pockets of my duster where two flashbangs were waiting to light up the world. They would be handy in room clearing, if it became necessary to end these outlaws here and now.
We stopped at the fringes of the ghost town and lashed our horses loosely (I’d be damned before I let a Royal Stallion fall into the hands of some no good outlaws) to the decrepit posts that were somehow still standing. My acute hearing discerned the breathy whinnies and neighs of horses on the other side of the ostensibly abandoned ghost town, so our adversaries had done us that much courtesy at least. It was about a quarter to twelve when we marched out into the street. Braeburn put on a brave face as we walked the dusty road to meet with our opponents. But even without casting an empathic spell, I could sense the dread that was radiating off of him based on the subtle shakes of the wood and iron crafted weapon he cradled in his hands. Speaking of opponents, I could see the ashen haired Smoky Joe with four of his goons flanking him as we got closer (out of order it was Angel Eyes, Black Bert, Bronco Bill, and Unlucky Pip). This was cause for minor concern, where were the other five members of the gang? Where were Pickpocket Pete, Grim Gravel, Bandana Sam, Cricket Cob, and Crackers?
“So y’all actually showed up!” Angel Eyes slow clapped as we were within hearing range, “Of you I had no doubt, I saw the fire in your eyes, but him?” He pointed to my companion, “He looks about ready to piss hisself!” His colleagues shared a laugh as they made Braeburn squirm without touching him.
I was not amused, “Are you here to make jokes? Or are you here to fight?”
“We gotta have our fun first before we kill ya” Smoky Joe stated, puffing from a cigarette in his mouth, “That’s how we like our sport”
“Think he’s got a point lads” The short Pip chimed in, “Let’s get done with this so we can go back to the feckin mines”
Black Bert smacked him upside the head, “Mind what you say, ya lil’ twerp! That’s supposed to be our secret!”
“It won’t matter” Angel Eyes excused dismissively, unveiling his onboard arsenal of guns, “They’ll take it to their graves, same as us. Any last words?”
“This ain’t Dodge Junction,” I said, “and you ain’t Wild Bill Hickok” I was in the zone, “These will not be my last words” I predicted, shifting into a quick draw position with my holster leg slightly ahead of my other to facilitate clearing seven inches worth of barrel from the holster’s maw. With my other hand, I swept aside my duster and pinched the material into the crease of the holster to keep it unobstructed.
Silence came over the town after my cocky display of defiance and our epic stare down commenced. I flexed my hand, which was positioned scant centimeters above the handle of my gun. Randomly, I whistled the intro notes to the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly even though no one here would get that reference.
Smoky Joe’s hand shot downwards first, and my self augmenting spells went into effect. The flow of time relative to my perception slowed to a significant degree, and each of my opponents seemed as if they were immersed in a tub of molasses. A targeting reticle aligned with my barrel traced the outline of Smoky Joe’s gun as he gripped the handle. In one smooth flowing motion, I pulled back my magnum, cocked the hammer with a thumb, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet velocity of my gun was so great that even my heightened senses could barely keep up with the speed with which it flew out of the barrel. The heavy slug slammed into Smoky Joe’s hand before he could leave leather and pulped it. I fanned the hammer (not normally possible on a double action, but mine was modified to do that) and sunk .44 caliber bullets into Angel Eyes’ forehead, Black Bert’s ribcage, and Unlucky Pip’s manhood (which was queer, because I was aiming for his heart). Bronco Bill had rolled out of the way as he provided covering fire for his boss, who was howling as he clutched at the ruins of his smoking hand (heh, more puns). This fight wasn’t won yet though, and a holler from Bronco Bill had the windows to our left and right smashed open to allow the other gang members to rain lead down on us.
One of them somehow hauled a puckle gun upstairs and was using it to keep Braeburn and me suppressed while we used a section of emptied crates as cover on the right side of the street. We were the textbook definition of pinned down, and our cover wouldn’t shield us from harm forever. Braeburn had not even fired his crossbow yet! I looked around frantically for a solution when I descried the tin covering a lamp anchored to the wall. I glanced down to my magnum and saw that emblem for chaos was growing incrementally brighter. I pressed the button and licked at my index finger, before sticking it slightly above my head to test the wind current.
‘Oh, dakka huh? I can speak that language too, and I can speak it more fluently than you!’ I sang in my mind. I may have been terrible at math, but I knew my Triggernometry.
I smiled as the results proved sufficient and I took aim at the lamp covering. Defying multiple laws of physics, the chaos infused bullet ricocheted off the lamp covering to sail directly into the man gunning for us from the balcony window. He died and the hailstorm of bullets lessened in severity as his weapon ceased spitting balls of lead or iron at us.
“How the hell did he do that!?” I heard someone exclaim, further detracting from the concentrated gunfire.
Mustering his courage, Braeburn poked his head out from cover and zeroed in at the man who thought asking idle questions in the middle of combat was a smart idea. His crossbow thwipped and the man’s next vocalization wasn’t coherent enough to understand.
“We may be outnumbered, Braeburn my friend…” I inserted six bullets into the cylinder of my gun and flicked it shut, giving the chamber a spin for good measure, “…but we are not outgunned” I grinned roguishly at him and materialized out of cover, taking aim and pulling the trigger. The first shot sailed straight into the arm of one of Joe’s backup goons, taking it clean off and putting him out of the fight with a holler. I drew a bead on another musket toting lackey using the balcony as his perch and squeezed off another round, this one striking him clean between the eyes… though the results of that bull’s eye were anything but clean.
I heard shuffling footsteps above us and unsheathed my Tantō to hold in my left hand while I brandished my gun in my right. I dove into a dilapidated mess that was once a saloon and charged for the stairs. Crackers (who was barely into adulthood) emerged from the doorway and aimed his gun at me, only for it to misfire as the flint striker failed him.
I rushed him before he could correct it and jammed the barrel of my Dee-Dee up his nose, “Wrong move, sonny Jim” His head became a misty red aerosol as the bullet obliterated his noggin and over penetrated into the ceiling.
Cricket Cob came shortly after him and he paused to stare at the remains of Cracker’s skull before the edge of my Tantō found purchase in his neck. He gurgled out an incomprehensible set of curses as he drowned in his own blood. With this side of the town empty of bad guys, I sidled up to a window and peered outside while proactively reloading my gun. Smoky Joe and the second survivor of the quick draw seemed to have taken refuge inside, and all guns were quiet.
It was at that point that Braeburn did something unforgivably stupid. He charged the last known position of Smoky Joe and his second whilst screaming like a man possessed. I saw him face plant into the dirt as a round smashed through his crossbow and struck him in his left arm, sending fragments of wood and who knows else to embed themselves into his flesh. I did not cry out for him, as to keep my position hidden from the enemy. His love fueled stupidity did serve some purpose however, as I got enough of an outline of the man responsible to tag him with True Sight. It was Smoky Joe, as he was holding the gun in his left hand while quivering from the blood loss. His comrades would likely be nearby, protecting their boss from me. It wouldn’t avail them though, as I had brought some surprises of my own. I sheathed my Tantō and removed my flashbangs. They had a three second primer, which was more than sufficient for me to yank their activation rings and chuck them into the room where Smoky Joe was holed up in. The twin explosions of noise and light would disorient the rest, and allow for me to dispatch them easily.
I spread my wings and glided from the balcony of the building I was in to the opposite side of the street. I entered the showroom where Smoky Joe was writhing on the floor mashing his hands to his face. Bronco Bill was coherent though, and I blew a hole out the back of his chest with a lazy trigger pull. I determined that Smoky was not going to be any trouble disarmed and disoriented, so I performed a sweep of the other rooms and executed the members of Smoky Joe’s gang that were still alive. Once the deeds were done, I confronted the recovering Joe, who was trying to put a cigarette into his mouth with his remaining hand.
“Damn… just… damn” He murmured while shaking his head, out of it, “Think we bit off more than we could chew with you”
“Yeah, that usually how it plays out. I’m up against unfavorable odds, and my companions might not always be combat capable, but that doesn’t get in my way” I summarized, “Those who do, die. Didn’t anyone tell you that I was dangerous?”
“Welp! I’m yer prisoner then!” He extended his hand to me, and I eyed him with a look that stated ‘How dumb do you think I am?’.
There was a dusty shovel poking out of the wallpaper that gave me an idea with what to do about all the corpses that were lying about. I levitated it over to me, before tossing it to the defeated outlaw, who stared at it blankly.
“There are two kinds of people out here in the middle of scenic nowhere my friend” I used the term sardonically, “Those with loaded guns, and those who dig. Guess which category you belong in?”
“You can’t be serious” He balked, “You killed my entire crew!”
“Would you prefer running?” I threw out an alternative for him, “Though I wouldn’t recommend that, because I got six little friends in this cylinder, and they can all run a hell of a lot faster than you can. So get digging, out in the open where I can see you” I warned him, even though he was still tagged with True Sight and I was aware of him at all times because of this.
I rolled the unconscious Braeburn (did he pass out from the shock, maybe?) over and pushed my fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. I breathed in relief, as he was assuredly alive. The round he’d took in his arm had shattered some bones though, and it would take a medical doctor to set those right. I cut into his flesh with my Tantō to excise the rounded ball of Smoky’s pistol, before searing the wound shut with a little aid from thermal magic. I plopped into the dirt beside him and exhaled tiredly, removing the hat from my head and wiping some sweat that had accumulated on my brow.
“Don’t worry pal, we’ll save your Strongheart yet. Just don’t expect me to be the best man at the official wedding” I reassured him, glancing up at the sky to make out the shapes of clouds there.
‘If there’s a title for fastest gun in the West here… I think I’ve earned it’ I mused, listening the contact of shovel on sunbaked earth as Smoky Joe buried his gang.
⁂
“An then what happened?” Applejack inquired over the sound of laughter and clinking dining glasses. A skeletal bowl of half eaten gourmet buffalo stew pushed off to the side. I didn’t blame her, that stuff wasn’t especially tasty. The suspended paper lamps only made the gruel seem darker than it was, which only made it worse.
I stared at her in disbelief, “You know what happened! You were there with me for everything that Braeburn was not. You don’t want to hear about the mundane stuff”
“A shootout like that is anythin’ but mundane, Arch Stanton” She poked fun at my spur of the moment name. The multiple glasses of cider had done a number to her inhibitions, and yet I knew this would not be the last I heard of Arch Stanton.
The official wedding of Braeburn and Strongheart took place a couple of days after the shootout at Tumbledown Tree, nestled smack dab in the shade of that butte where Braeburn and Strongheart would forge a bond of love. We had Smoky Joe verify Strongheart’s location before sending him to the Chieftain of the Buffalo Braves as an ‘apology gift’ for losing his daughter to them. It wasn’t easy repairing the relations between settler and native, especially after the Blood Gulch massacre, but progress was being made. With the families of the natives largely restored to them, peace was as easy as setting up a meeting of the governor of Appleloosa and Chief Thunderfeet. The largest sign of the returning favorable border relations was this very wedding, which contained equal quantities of native and settler guests alike. In a way, their wedding was symbolic of this union. Strongheart was the happiest I had ever seen her up to then, in spite of the horrific things she had witnessed in the mines alongside her kin. But that was not a topic to be reminiscing about at a wedding. This was a joyous occasion, and I wouldn’t let my boredom as the gang pressed best man detract from that.
“Can’t believe ya convinced me to miss out on sumthin’ like that” She continued to grumble, “An’ wasn’t I supposed to be the one leadin’ you around these parts anyhow?”
“And you did, Applejack” I assured her, stroking her free hand with my side of my thumb, “You being by my side bolstered my resolve”
“Well aren’t you a sweet talker?” She remarked, her cheeks flush with blood, “So long as it’s you, sugarcube, ah don’ mind” She lazily twisted her head to look at the couple of the hour, who were dancing in a swaying, jumping manner that was Buffalo Brave (Braeburn’s arm brace could endure the strain), “When do ya think we should tell ‘em about the secret wedding gift?”
“Let it be a surprise” I wasn’t going to reveal that we knew about their third family member before they did, “According to Pinkie, surprises are the spice of life, aren’t they?”
She laughed merrily, “I don’t think Pinkie phrased it as coherently, but yeah, that seems about correct”
She laid her head on my shoulder, watching as her cousin basked in the festive glow of marriage, his life’s fulfillment somehow amplified with the knowledge that he would never be alone. Without even knowing why I did it, I draped an arm around Applejack and held her close to me. The music almost felt tangible as it floated through the air. Above us the stars twinkled regularly, as if they were smiling upon us.
We crested the top of the barren hill that overlooked the Flim and Flam brothers’ base of operations in the Arcanian south… within skipping distance of Miss Cherry Jubilee’s ranch. It was larger than I was expecting, which made that hollow in my gut feel just a tad deeper. North Wind vented a steady stream of air through his nostrils after I had him gallop for the better part of a day after we had disembarked from the train at the cozy hamlet of Weeping Rock, not that removed to the south of Dodge Junction. With a ceasefire struck between Governor Mansion and Chief Thunderfeet, the Buffalo Braves were no longer mounting attacks on the rail lines or caravans, and commerce was free to commence in the region once more.
Many of the Appleloosans were skeptical of the proclamation, especially after a regrettable and uncomfortably familiar mishap threatening their town compounded with hearing about the unfortunate Blood Gulch incident with Wild Bull’s war party from the wagon train’s embittered survivors themselves, whose husbands’ shed lifeblood now gave the misnomer of a landmark its grisly title. But by and large, the Appleloosans suffered nothing near as tragic, so peace not only seemed likely, but a possible formal alliance could be in the cards. At least, once both sides have been given time to heal from the psychological scars. After all, alliances sealed through marriage were a common tradition in most medieval or otherwise primitive societies, and Chief Thunderfeet seemed nothing if not a staunch traditionalist himself. Heck, I wouldn’t even have to twist his arm for it since his recent and blissfully married daughter was doing it for me (Although thanks to an unexpected development, I could have if I wanted to).
I never did see that shaman with the uncanny insight again, and Chief Thunderfeet only had this annoying grin on his face when I inquired about him after the wedding. His excuse was something along the lines of ‘He does as he does’, which was a repetition, not an answer. During a closing diplomatic visit to the main village (which actually went by the name of Tatankama I discovered), I sniffed about for him, but picked up no trace of the mysterious and elusive shaman, and the leery locals were of little help in the issue. As greatly as I yearned to know the full details about my shadowy adversary, I would have to learn more of it the old fashioned way.
Despite the magical seal on Dichotomy’s hilt allowing her to listen in whenever she wanted to, I sent a letter to the Princess using that special bottle o’ Dragonflame that she gave me to keep her updated on all that had transpired, including the bloodshed that I had witnessed just before we reached Appleloosa and what happened subsequently. So far, she had been… uncharacteristically silent on the matter, which was as equally worrying as it was ominous. Celestia loved her subjects as if they were her own children, so it went without saying that their tragic deaths at the hands of the Buffalo Braves would wound her deeply.
“We finally made it, huh?” Applejack spoke up as she eased a panting Dusk Breeze beside us. The Night Wind lookalike was as swift as his ancestor, but his long haul stamina could have done with some work.
“So it seems” I tentatively confirmed, scrutinizing the grounds for lookouts or sentries and seeing none, “I must’ve done an excellent job of ensuring that no one rode back to deliver the memo about the mine’s shutdown. The lights are on, but there’s barely anyone here to give us a warm welcome” Or so that seemed as well.
Applejack became a bit queasy at the callback to the past, “Promise me ya won’t do what ya did when we rode into Cragrock Canyon, please?”
I didn’t appreciate the gentle accusation, “I had to be the scout. There could have been an ambush waiting for us for crying out loud!” I frowned at her, “And if it wasn’t for my reflexes and impeccable aim, I doubt our pals would have been in such good shape right now… with one exception” The Magnum resting on my hip worked as advertised, putting a large number of men in the grave in the short time I’ve been pulling its trigger.
She winced, “Ah know, ah know. But please make an effort to resolve things peacefully. This ruthless bounty hunter image of yers you’ve been furtherin’ hasn’t done us any favors”
“It’s gotten us here, hasn’t it?” I reasoned to her in return.
“A lotta blood had to be spilled to get us here, Zenith” She reminded me bitterly, “Might don’t make right”
I scoffed, “If that was true in this case, then your cousin in law would still be in those mines… and sooner or later she would’ve been the next to be fed into the gr-”
“Don’t remind me!” She shouted, turning a shade of green, “Oh sweet Celestia, don’t remind me…” She had kept an admirable grip on her emotions after seeing so much death occur during the wagon train massacre (she told me that she cried on the inside), but what we saw in the mine was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
‘Where are they?’ I pondered, scanning the panoramic view of our surroundings, ‘Plan B depends on their presence’
My jaw set firmly, “Celestia isn’t here. I am” I wasn’t in the mood for her mewling about my methods, unsavory as they were, “Just keep your weapons ready to be drawn. Flim is likely going to be suspicious when he sees us back here, particularly myself” Applejack reluctantly looked to her space enchanted saddlebags, where the hilt of her sword and the stock of her blunderbuss were poking out.
I nudged my heels into North Wind’s barrel and urged him to canter the declining slope of the dry grass hill. All the while remembering why I was here, and why there was going to be hell to pay once I had a chat with Mister Flim about his business practices.
⁂
“That’s all of ‘em” Smoky Joe wheezed as he shoved the shovel spade down into the sunbaked earth. Behind him were the mounds of dirt where the bodies of his former comrades would rest for eternity, “Some of them Bastards were heavier than they looked” He remarked through his weariness.
The defeated outlaw was covered in sweat from the combined exertion of having to dig the graves, drag his deceased friends into them, and then cover the holes again. I had my revolver trained on him the entire duration, monitoring him like a hawk as I kept the unconscious Braeburn company. Even if he had the chutzpah to run, which was incredibly unlikely now as he was exhausted, he wouldn’t have made it too deep into the wastes before either my bullet or maddening, unquenchable thirst found him first. The sun was at its strongest, and Smoky Joe was already dehydrated by now, as evidenced by the rapidly drying beads of sweat on his ugly bulldog’s face. He was at my mercy, and he knew it.
“You don’t seem all that saddened by their untimely passing” I observed.
He snorted, cracking a yellow smile at me, “I hated half of ‘em and most of ‘em hated me for bein’ appointed as the big boss. If left to our own devices, we’d have shot each other up eventually over a payment dispute or some other nonsense. Guess you jus’ beat us to the punch with that fancy pistol o’ yers” He tried pointing at my gun with his dominant appendage, but the red ruins of the shoddily wrapped hand caused him to wince and cease the motion.
“Typical bandits” I muttered under my breath, “Not a shred of honor amongst them”
I brought a couple of fingers to my mouth and emitted a shrill wolf whistle. Our steeds heard the call and detached from the hitching posts easily due to the loosened knots we used. North Wind and Dusk Breeze trotted towards us before halting, the curt, rhythmic clip-clop of their steel shod hooves deadened and died away with the faint dust cloud they kicked up. They gave the foul smelling Smoky a wide berth, likely seeing that the beaten man still represented a threat.
“Some magnificent stallions ya got there” Smoky stated, eyeing the two of them almost lustily, “Had things went the other way, I reckon I’d claim that biggun right there for mah own”
“But they didn’t? Did they?” I retorted bitingly, before standing up and creeping behind the distracted Smoky, “Enjoy your nap”
He started to twist his head, “Wha- OORK!”
I roughly conked him on the back of his noggin with the butt of my pistol, coldcocking him. He fell to the dirt with a pained moan and keeled over like a sack of lard, his hat dislodging from its former position and spinning away from him. I picked it up and dusted it off before fitting it back onto the outlaw’s cranium. The man may have been trying to kill my companion and I not thirty minutes in the past, but he retained his hat wearing privileges regardless. I spent a minute searching his mind for the whereabouts of the kidnapped Buffalo Braves, but the only information I could extract from him were of a series of images depicting mine tunnels at the bottom of some dried out canyon.
Unwanted pictures searing their way into my skull were of the cruelty of the men directing the scared natives to dig… or die. Those whose will had not been broken were shredded to bloody tatters with dozens of lashes from the whip. I almost cried out as I saw the bruised bodies of mistreated children being dragged away from their sobbing mothers, their masters laughing at their misery. The images gradually shifted and the sorrow of the kidnapped natives became dulled and the tears stopped trailing down faces, as though these hapless natives had resigned themselves to their unjust fate. I had to retrieve them posthaste, before there was no one left to retrieve.
After seeing the final image of Strongheart being confined in darkness, I ejected myself from Smoky’s mind, having to count to ten to avoid taking my righteous anger out on him then and there. He was only responsible for some of the culling parties they had organized, but he was condemning these people to what essentially amounted to slave labor. And for what? To put bits in his pocket that he wind up blowing on cheap booze and other vices? Putting a bullet in him right then would have been far less than what he deserved. No, I had something else in mind for the likes of him.
I scavenged around for some rope before going about collecting all of the dropped firearms in the bullet riddled town. It would not do to leave them behind for anyone… less than trustworthy to find. Officially, I was confiscating the discarded firearms in the name of the Crown. Unofficially, I had a need to examine them to determine who manufactured them (the engraved initials V.D.G.I were present on the vast majority of these guns, though I would have to research this in greater depth later) and how well they were constructed. The rifles were crude, somewhere between an arquebus and a musket in design and function. Each weapon was handmade, and so the parts were not interchangeable and therefore not easily mass produced. This was a relief, as the proliferation of firearms in this world, or any world for that matter, was not to be taken lightly.
I had kept the pistol that I had appropriated in Tatankama, but it was too worn down by age and usage to make out any engravings (Other than the crude notches doubtlessly commemorating a kill that the original owner wielding it achieved), so these other guns were a blessing in more ways than one. There was a fair bit of ammo scattered about in prefabricated ammo containers by the foot of the windows, which consisted of paper cartridges housing both the gunpowder propellant and the spherical projectile. The paper would disintegrate when the flint striking the steel ignited the gunpowder, though it would require careful maintenance to prevent the barrel from fouling up after repeated use. From the piss poor state of these guns, the outlaws hadn’t learnt that lesson, which was a critical reason why they were so inaccurate during our showdown. Whatever I couldn’t carry in my arms, I used a telekinetic spell to lift the rest. I wouldn’t leave any evidence of what happened here other than what rested in the graves.
In particular I studied the puckle gun that the outlaws had hauled out to this town in order to ensure that this gunfight went in their favor. I’ll admit, if it weren’t for the chaotic feature of my Magnum allowing me to bounce a shot off of a dusty tin lamp covering, Braeburn and I would have been in deep trouble. The mechanism for the puckle gun was the nearest relative to the gun resting in my holster. It utilized a rotating twenty round drum cylinder that was turned using a hand crank. The flint striker would ignite the charge in the chamber before cycling with the next crank, and it was mounted on a folding tripod for easy portability. Next to the ancient predecessor of the modern machine gun was a pile of attachable multishot chambers, several of which had been expended attempting to put new breathing holes in my person. The individual round balls that were fired from its elongated barrel weren’t of an especially damaging caliber or hardened material, but would have stung like the dickens to be hit with none the less.
As the puckle gun rip-off was too clunky to take back with me, I torched it with an encapsulating incineration spell and watched as the metal components were melted into glowing slag. The wooden floor could have caught fire from the molten metal, so I had tossed it outside before destroying it. As it burned, I cast one last look to the ruins of the town around me, wondering what it must have been like in its heyday. Tumbledown Tree couldn’t have been a ghost town for terribly long, as the state of decay wasn’t to the point where the wallpaper was being stripped from the walls from sandy winds. I could only speculate as to why this town was deserted. The main settlement of Appleloosa wasn’t far removed from this desolate place, and that town had direct access to the rail lines, which was probably the answer itself. I knew first hand that wagon trains (no matter how dedicated their owners and teamsters were) moved at a snail’s pace when compared to the indefatigable iron horse.
With my cargo in tow, I trudged towards our horses silently. Dusk Breeze nickered at me, which I interpreted as ‘About time’ in horse speak. I shook my head and slid half the wrapped bundles of rifles and pistols between his saddlebags. The other half I burdened North Wind with, before putting the unconscious Smoky into the saddle slumped forward, with his hands bound behind his back.
“You remember the way to the main native village, don’t you pal?” I asked of him, rubbing his muzzle reassuringly. I was gradually establishing a relationship with him that I once shared with his ancestor, though it wasn’t quite there yet. Perhaps we needed to be put through half a dozen dangerous situations or so, not that I actively sought them out… most of the time.
He answered in the affirmative, bobbing his head twice. It never ceased to amaze me how responsive animals were to people in this world. It almost made me want to become a vegan… almost.
“Excellent. You’re going to deliver both the man and these guns to the natives at Tatankama. If you can, find the Chieftain and bring this stuff directly to him alone” I added, still wary of Wild Bull sympathizers.
I rifled through the contents of North Wind’s saddlebags and scrawled on a sheet of sticky notepaper explaining that these firearms were gifts of goodwill for the Braves to defend themselves with, though I could foresee only the Chief’s bodyguard receiving them. I affixed it to the insensate outlaw’s forehead as a last insult for endeavoring to aerate me earlier.
It wasn’t much, but I figured that it would be a start. Luckily, the Buffalo Braves shared a similar writing system, despite not having a common language, perchance because the people of this world were once one. It was sort of like how Spanish and French were mostly distinct in vocal sounds, but were both derived from Latin. Strongheart told me during the grueling journey to Appleloosa that her father was perfectly literate (otherwise communicating with the other villages would be tedious and rather inefficient), though he did not retain any books for her to read like the kind she browsed at Jubilee’s ranch. After instructing my massive steed to come straight back to Appleloosa once he was done with the task I assigned to him, I then gave North Wind a slap on his hindquarters to get him going, wishing the outlaw hell. The moment he was gone, I set all of the former outlaws’ horses free, save for one spirited mare that I would need to make the return trip to town with Applejack’s wounded cousin. I laid the unconscious Braeburn (who was mumbling about his beloved in his fitful sleep) onto Dusk Breeze’s back before mounting the mare and closely leading the Stallion back by the reins.
The Appleloosans stopped whatever they were doing to gawk at us as we galloped into the outskirts of town. The chances of our return must’ve been underestimated, because the expressions of disbelief were everywhere. Our first stop once we were back was the doctor’s clinic. I carried my companion bridal style through the door. The man refilling a syringe from a bottle nearly dropped it in surprise at the abruptness of our entry, but recovered fast when he saw that we were in need of his services. He showed me to a sterilized table for me to lay my disabled companion on. The doctor then washed his hands, put on his stethoscope, and went to work appraising the severity of his townsman’s injury.
“Folks ‘round town have been whispering about you two” The doctor (whose name was Needles, oddly enough) conversed with me as he analyzed the seriousness of Braeburn’s injury, “Many of them counted the two of you out once they heard how an infamous and ornery outlaw gang challenged you up front. I take it… you fared better than they expected”
“That gang won’t be bothering anybody anymore” I said with a faint air of satisfaction before gesturing to Braeburn, “How is he? I managed to excise the bullet that struck him, but the fragmentation of his ulna and the wooden shrapnel embedded into his flesh I could not rectify” Not without risking his wound becoming septic.
He adjusted the spectacles on his nose, “I’ll have to perform surgery immediately to correct that, but I suspect that he’ll live a long and happy life as a treasured member of this here community. I’ve had plenty of experience with gunshot wounds, what with all the hubbub from those gun toting outlaws lately” He stifled a chuckle, “Lucky for him he’s already under. I’ve run out of ether anesthetic after that wagon train brought us all of their wounded” He shook his head lugubriously, “A great tragedy that was. They were fortunate my colleagues and I were able to save a few of them. Though I do wonder how they were able to escape the savages’ clutches without further harassment”
“Let’s just say they had a guardian angel watching over them” I sarcastically opined, “How many survivors from the wagon train made it?”
He scratched his head as he reckoned the number, “All in all, I’d estimate a lil’ over forty people survived what folks are deemin’ the Blood Gulch Massacre. Most of the survivors are widows now. The rest we stitched up as we could for the funerals and buried them in the local cemetery with our prayers attached. No more than ten minutes had passed when the lot of ‘em went to petition the governor to retaliate on their behalf, hungry for vengeance. Who can blame ‘em? To lose loved ones in such a horrific bloodbath” His eyebrows hitched, “Hell, even I would be mad… and ah swore an oath to do no harm”
“The Braves who attacked us paid for that massacre in gallons of their own blood” I informed him, recalling the murky, adrenaline fueled frenzy of that night. I’d never admit this to anyone aloud, but it was the most invigorating fight I’ve partaken in since annihilating the garrison stationed in the Acolytes’ hidden fortress in the swamp. I was beginning to relish the opportunity to kill, and that bothered me.
His eyes widened, “You… you were there? My word. How is it that you survived that fracas?”
“It was a kill or be killed situation” I shrugged, “There was no rhyme or reason to it. You either fended for yourself, or found a Brave’s hatchet biting into your neck. I fought my way to the esteemed leader of their war party and subdued him in single combat. I threatened to renovate the content of his skull with a weapon they feared in order to get them to back off. They must’ve known that my retribution would have been swift and terrible, because they did not test my patience” I left out the part where their Chieftain’s daughter was among our number, as he did not need to know that.
“You sir have my respect then for standing against those mindless monsters and stopping them” He commended me, “I shudder to think what atrocities could have happened if they had reached the defenseless women”
“They would have killed them, or worse” I hypothesized for him, “And they aren’t monsters. Just… misunderstood by the settlers, and angry about what they perceive has been wrongfully done to them by us. They think us responsible for the recent string of kidnappings of their people, and were lashing out”
He scowled at my sympathetic point of view, “Easy for you to say. Doesn’t seem like you lost anyone you loved that night”
“That might be true, otherwise no one attacking us would have survived my fury” I conceded, “However, the path of peace is a just cause, and as an Agent of their Royal Majesties, I must do whatever I can to serve that noble purpose” I spun in place, scooping out some bits from my munny pouch and tossing them onto his desk, “For your services” I elucidated, leaving Braeburn in capable hands.
“Where are you going?” The nosy doctor pried into my personal affairs.
“To finish what those outlaws started” I replied over my back, heading towards the sheriff’s.
There were some younger people who tried prying into what precisely occurred at the town of Tumbledown along the way, and I relayed to them an anecdote about not crossing a man wearing a big iron on his hip. They each got that childlike sparkle in their eye that told me that there would be folk songs sung about the butchery of outlaws who were so stupid that they threatened a Royal Agent. I cared not for glory, but wouldn’t do anything to discourage their hero worship either. There were masses of Arcanian citizens who believed wholeheartedly in their Majesties’ government, and that admiration was likewise shown to extensions of that government. Folks needed heroes to inspire them, though they should be wary of placing them on a pedestal like Twilight habitually did with Celestia. I believed in Princess Celestia with all my heart… but I knew and made peace with the fact that she was no saint.
I entered the lawmen’s building to discover the fools playing poker of all things. Sheriff Silverstar was chomping on a cigar and looking mightily pleased with the pile of bits he was accumulating, while Clinky Keys and Lone Star were perfecting the art of the fail when it came to hiding their facial expression.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything important” I deadpanned, less than pleased with these lazy lawmen sitting on their butts being anything other than useful.
“Agent…” Silverstar’s eyebrows rose, “Yer alive”
“No thanks to the selfless devotion of you and your courageous lawmen” I rejoined disparagingly, before lightening up a pinch, “I come bearing gifts, though if you accept them, you must abide by their stipulations”
“What gifts?” Lone Star asked, looking up from his cards in curiosity.
“These” With a magical flourish, I levitated a bundle consisting of two carbine length rifles (sans the rifling), a blunderbuss, and several pistols inside (Since they were single shot usage only, each of the outlaws typically had multiple sidearms on them in case of emergencies, not that it availed them when they challenged this gunslinger).
I deposited them on an empty table for their viewing pleasure. I wished I had a camera to immortalize the stunned expressions on their faces as they beheld this ballistic bounty, but I supposed that my memory would have to suffice. I did feel somewhat like an arms dealer for doing this, but these lawmen would have desperate need of these implements of long range death if they were going to help me.
“H-h-how?” The orange whiskered Clinky Keys stuttered in disbelief, “H-how did you prevail? Anyone who’s squared off against Smoky Joe and his band of brigands winds up six feet under!”
“Through sheer grit” I one-linered, “As well as this” I unholstered my favored Dee-Dee and casually twirled it once in front of me like a true gunfighter. The trigger pull pressure required was sufficient enough that I could spin it as much as I wanted without it going off on me.
“Are all Agents of the Crown so well equipped?” The stern faced Sheriff inquired, suddenly injecting some respect into his tone, “I’ve been sending in requests for more of these fancy firearms for a while now”
“To my knowledge, there is no facility in all of Arcania that manufactures anything remotely approaching firearms (‘Yet’), so there’s no way their Majesties’ Government can supply you with something they cannot produce in bulk. I had the fortune to be owed a favor from someone very powerful to get my hands on this” I holstered Dee-Dee, “So you’ll have to make do with these” I gestured to the antique firearms.
Lone Star was suspicious, “How much do ya want for ‘em?”
Cue the humble headshake, “No charge. Just the assurance that you’ll have my back when I go after those bastards and shut them down for good”
“An’ how do you plan on accomplishin’ that?” The Sheriff laid his cards on the table, and I saw the other two curse themselves for not calling his bluff, “These outlaws are like phantoms. They materialize out of nowhere at random, wreak general havoc, and then disappear into the wastes. I’ve written to the other towns’ Sheriffs, but they haven’t seen hide nor hair of ‘em either”
“I hedged my bets beforehand” I told him, leaning onto the wall next to a whole bunch of wanted posters, “I’ve learned from a reliable source that they operate out of a canyon. Its location I do not know for certain, but that’s where the second part of my plan comes into play. Tell me, are any of you familiar with a man going by the name of Crooked Cards?”
Clinky Keys raised his hand, as if he were a student vying for the teacher’s attention, “Oh. I am! I am!”
“By all means, continue” I motioned for him to demonstrate what he knew. The others directed their stares to him, interested by this.
He twiddled his thumbs, suddenly nervous at having the metaphorical spotlight shined on him, “Well I-… y’all know that I occasionally make spare bits by pumpin’ out tunes at the local establishments when their usual man is out or otherwise indisposed. I know this man from the Salt Lick Saloon. He called me over to play a few games of cards with him a week or so back”
Clinky frowned, “He was constantly winnin’… even when I was sure I had the superior hand. Lost a few dozen bits in the course of half an hour”
“That’s because the man is a bonafide cheat” I enlightened him, “I lost a hundred bits worth of coin to him myself last night” I had revisited the establishment, wanting to get a read on this informant with so much blood indirectly on his hands. The man had this funny gleam in his eye when we talked, like he was speaking to a dead man walking. I guess he didn’t know that people who shared his views had a bad track record of meeting with a terrible fate.
“I analyzed his strategy thoroughly, imbibing in a few drinks to complete my deception of being a tad tipsy while we betted” I rubbed at my wrists emphatically, “He expertly steals cards from the deck when it’s his turn to do the dealing, storing it in his sleeves for when he needs an edge. It doesn’t always guarantee him a win, but somehow he psyches his opponents with the stronger hands into folding… and then mops up with the remnants. It’s a slow way to win a lot of bits, but it’s been working wonderfully for him” Until now… that is.
“Dastardly. Sounds like you’re just another of his victims” Silverstar chuckled, an aspiring card shark himself, “But what does all of this have to do with findin’ the base of those infernal scumbags?”
“Because his winnings from my purse were… tampered with” I grinned shrewdly, “I didn’t bring up this guy’s name to complain about his shady gambling methods. This man who has been operating under your collective noses is the reason why your town is in contention with the Buffalo Braves at this juncture”
Sheriff Silverstar looked to deputy Lone Star, “Get your brother. I have a feelin’ he’s gonna want to hear about this”
“On it, Sheriff!” The deputy chirped as he hopped out of his seat, eager to please his mentor. The Sheriff rolled three of his fingers at me in a ‘go on’ fashion.
“I should elucidate that my source is derived from an elite Buffalo Brave warrior who is looked up to in his society, and is thought to be Chief Thunderfeet’s successor for leadership of the tribe” I scoffed derisively, “The brute of a man was the picture of impatience though, wanting it sooner rather than later. I am not sure how these regular meetings with Crooked Cards came about, but the Brave, named Wild Bull, began disclosing sensitive information about the movement patterns of the myriad subsections of the Buffalo Brave tribe roaming about the plains with their namesake herds of buffalo”
I was austere as I delved into his duplicity, “He left nothing to imagination. He told this man the relative manpower guarding each individual village, when their sentries were most alert, and therefore when the women and children would be most vulnerable to abduction”
“He sold out his own people?” Silverstar was confused, “Why in tarnation would he do that?”
“Simple” I replied, “It was an orchestrated power grab. Crooked Cards would relay this information to the gangs, who would conduct their kidnapping missions and spirit away as many women and children as they could…”
‘To have them toil themselves down to the bone, and then keep working them past that limit until they drop?’ I mentally growled. I was not okay with slavery, especially when it was so brutally done to women and children.
“By doing this, mistrust and strife would be sown between the settlers and the natives” I resumed speaking, “The Braves would be up in arms, and Wild Bull would have a chance to prove his worth in combat by collecting settler scalps, thus further solidifying his position as future Chieftain” The outlaws must’ve reneged on their end of the bargain though, because they assailed the main village, and they were killing every able bodied man who came to its defense. More fool him for dealing with the devil.
“Despicable” Clinky Keys commented, averse to the man’s double dealing.
“He’s the bigger threat, if’n ya ask me” The sheriff input his opinion, “He’s been the one organizin’ these raids on our towns. We’ve had to waste valuable water puttin’ out the fires he’s been ignitin’ our orchards with. Not to mention he all but slaughtered an entire wagon column!”
“Wild Bull is no longer a threat to anyone” I assured him in a calm voice, “I made sure of that”
Would killing the arrogant man like I initially vowed I would have been a mercy compared to a magically induced sleep from which there would be no waking up? Not for the last time, I questioned what kind of person I was becoming by the day. But regardless of that internal dilemma, my hands were not stained with his lifeblood.
The Sheriff looked like he wanted to protest, but something in my gaze unnerved him, and he was silent. It was then that the black and gray haired Lone Star returned to us with his brother trailing behind him. He was a slim youth, only a year or so younger than I was by my estimates. He had two toned teal and platinum blonde hair, hairless facial features, striking purple irises, and a pistol holstered on his hip, which marked him as Shooting Star. With how similar their names were, the fact that Silverstar had a pair of siblings under his thumb to uphold the law wasn’t that surprising in hindsight. I couldn’t get a complete gander at it from here, but it was a design unlike the primitive flintlocks that Clinky was inspecting with tangible interest. I had loaded none of them as a prudent precaution, in case anyone in this building was that one moron who stares down the barrel with their finger on the trigger.
“What’s the idear?” Shooting Star demanded to know, “I was jus’ about to win a game of horseshoes with Mister Far Lane”
“Yer gonna want to listen in on this one, lil’ brother” Lone Star advised his sibling, “We might be close to catchin’ those highwaymen who’ve been stirrin’ up extra trouble fer us” He looked to me to fill him in on the situation. I did so with a sigh, almost praying that the Sheriff didn’t have any other men he forgot to deputize.
“So we got sum’ real firepower now, huh?” Shooting Star said with a ‘Not bad’ expression, “Shucks! It’s about dang time! Ah was worried I would be the only man in town who could do anythin’ about the recent onset of our outlaw problem”
“How did you come by that?” I gestured to the iron at his side.
“Oh this?” He unholstered it and glanced as it with pride, “I made it”
The design of his pistol had some sort of flip cocking action, with a ring for the middle finger below the trigger. It reminded me heavily of a Volcanic Repeating Arms pistol. The only difference being that the handle was metallic, instead of wooden, and it wasn’t quite as elegant. Underneath the barrel was another chamber that conceivably contained the ammunition.
“You made it?” I parroted, moderately astonished.
“Unh huh!” He nodded enthusiastically, “I once attended an expo in Steelhatten about a few years ago. The Gryphondrian purveyors showcased these ranged weapons for target shootin’ and huntin’. I thought they were so neat! They practically made crossbows obsolete, if it weren’t for all the mechanical issues an’ limitations dragging them down. So I used mah skills as a part time machinist to attempt to replicate what they created. The propellant powder was harder to come by, but I got mah hands on some eventually. It only took me three and a dozen mistrials to get the prototype right! Made losin’ my eyebrows worth it!”
“Then I realized sumthin’ that shoulda been obvious to begin with” He monologued, “What if there was a way to increase the firearm’s viability by reducin’ the frequency that you’d have to reload before the next shot? That line of thought had me developin’ a new system for the gun, overhaulin’ the old one while tossing out a few flaws. By puttin’ a separate chamber under the barrel and loadin’ self contained bullets and their accompanyin’ charges, I could triple and even quadruple the number of shots I could take! This lever right here,” He demonstrated by wiggling it, “cycles in the next bullet capsule. There’s a spring in the bottom chamber that pushes the one behind that one forward so it doesn’t require manual adjustments”
“Color me impressed” I dabbed a finger at him, “You’re brighter than the average light bulb, aren’t you?”
Lone Star chuckled proudly, “That’s mah kid brother. Ever the inventive one”
‘This kid has some potential in him. Mayhaps I should keep an eye on him for future reference’ I remarked, bookmarking this lad’s name in my head. He could come in handy in Concordia with the Crown’s top secret development projects. Assuming he was willing to lend his talents, of course.
“The question stands” The Sheriff gesticulated to me, “How do ya plan on makin’ this Crooked Cards talk?”
Nailed behind me on the wall I was leaning on were the sketched faces of the majority of Smoky’s gang, each of whom glared back at us in a manner that would have been menacing had they not already been dead. Still, there were plenty of men posted on there that I had not bagged yet. Each of the sketches was in black and white, and crudely drawn, though the overall likeness was captured.
“I don’t intend to have him say anything. I plan on having him run for his life” I scratched at my chin, getting an idea to speed things along, “Do you have a blank wanted poster I can see for a moment?”
Clinky Keys obliged me, pulling out a drawer from a nearby desk and extracting a fresh sheet of yellowish wanted poster. He handed that to me together with a feather quill dipped in ink. I frowned at how late these settlers were to modernize their writing implements, but it would have to do for now. With a minor spell guiding my hand, I drew in Crooked Card’s face purely from memory. Unlike the other sketches, this one was accurate to the point where all it lacked was coloring. I imprinted a bold and italicized ‘Dead or Alive’ below his portrait along with a generous five hundred bit bounty. His crimes were simple, aiding and abetting outlaw activities, cheating at cards, and other unlawful acts that he may or may not have committed.
Watching me put a bounty on this man’s head reminded the Sheriff of something, “If you took down Smoky Joe’s gang, I reckon you’ll want to collect on their bounties”
“Keep the coins” I told him, “I have no need of supplemental bits and I don’t exactly have physical evidence of their deaths other than their graves at Tumbledown Tree”
“That is mighty munificent of ya! Thank yah, Agent” The Sheriff extolled me, though it was misplaced in my opinion. My emulation of Rarity’s notable quality was perfunctory at best. It’s easy to be generous when you’re already rolling in the figurative dough.
“You can thank me when we either put the rest of these outlaws behind bars, or deep six them” I picked up a blunderbuss and tossed it to the Sheriff, “You’ll want a crash course of these before we head on out. Shooting Star” He stood to attention at my cueing, “Think you can educate your fellow lawmen in the usage of Gryphondrian firearms?”
He grinned, as if it were trivial, “These are the older powder and shot models… they’re real simple to get the hang of. We’ll have to train at my mothers’ place at the edge of town though. The gunfire might spook the townspeople otherwise”
“Hold up” The Sheriff interrupted, “What about Crooked Cards? How do you plan on trackin’ him?”
I reached into my duster and produced a compass that I had purchased at one of the general stores in town, “I’ve enchanted this compass to point me towards the object I’ve keyed it with, which happens to be the coin I lost at the gambling table. Knowing how greedy Crooked Cards is, he’ll have my tampered money on his person when he leaves town”
He was supposed to have been gone by this morning. But circumstances must have changed, because the compass notified me that he was lingering here. The outlaws’ challenge must have enticed him to stay and exchange words with them after they had dealt with us. He ought to piss himself once he sees me again, alive and not pumped full of lead.
The Sheriff snorted, “I’ll never understand you magic casters, but if that enchanted compass of yers leads us to where we need ta go, then I will trust yer judgment. But,” He held up a finger in a sign of condition, “these men are under my command. I don’ want mah authority subverted in front of ‘em. They test mah patience as it is”
This was acceptable, “That’s fine. I’m looking forward to seeing how well you lead them once the lead starts flying left and right. Once you and your men are ready, meet me by the clock tower building by the outskirts of town, but don’t take too long, or I’ll hog all the glory to myself”
The Sheriff looked unsure of himself for a scant few seconds before Shooting Star piped up, “C’mon y’all! Lemme show ya how to bullseye skeets!”
I let the ink dry on the newly minted wanted poster before rolling it up and stowing it away in the manifold pockets of my duster. Sheriff Silverstar and his men collected their weapons, filed out of the office slash town jail, and mounted their steeds to relocate out of town to where Shooting Star would give them a crash course on firearms. I saddled up on Dusk Breeze and made for the Salt Lick to enact the first phase of my plan for freeing Strongheart and her people from the bonds of slavery. What I wasn’t counting on was a furious looking Applejack intercepting me halfway there.
“Zenith!” She shouted at me from the back of a palfrey mare with a palomino coat, “Where is mah cousin!?”
“Recovering in Doctor Needle’s clinic” I answered her, not stopping our trotting pace.
She stuttered out a barely coherent response before violently clearing her head with a shake, “How bad is he hurt?”
“He’ll live, I promise you” I averred, “Though his left arm will probably be out of commission for a while” He wouldn’t be tending his tiny apple orchard anytime soon. Strongheart’s orchard on the other hand…
Her anger lessened, but did not wholly subside, “So ya won out against those outlaws then?”
“Our adversaries underestimated us” Though they had mostly done so with me, “Braeburn fought valiantly for his lady love, but that did not shield him from Smoky Joe’s pistol-shot. He was fortunate that his crossbow ate most of the round’s kinetic energy, or his injury could have been gorier than it was” His thick Agrarian skin served him in lessening the damage, though I wouldn’t go so far as to qualify Agrarians as being bullet resistant, as Dee-Dee verified for me in Tumbledown.
Applejack’s face became a shade of nauseous green for a second as I elaborated on her cousin’s wounding, “I shoulda been there with you two. Maybe mah cousin wouldn’t have gotten hurt”
“What could you have done? Browbeat the enemy into surrendering to us? Braeburn charged headlong into the enemy with no thoughts for its tactical worth, or his own health” I gave her a reproachful stare, “You would have tried to stop him and presented yourself as another target for them to pick off. If you had been killed, the Elements would have been rendered inert, and Arcania would lose its greatest shield and asset” Their survival was paramount to the survival of this country… mayhaps the whole world.
“Don’t give me that spiel!” Applejack retorted angrily, “An’ don’t pretend like ah’m some helpless damsel. I can pull mah own weight in a fight!”
“And yet you don’t at the same time” I riposted, “How many Braves did you slay that night as they ambushed us?” And how many died because you didn’t? I wanted to grill her, but refrained from doing so. Applejack wasn’t a stone cold killer… not like I was, and I had to remind myself of that oh so frequently.
“I don’t see what that has to do with anythin’” She deflected with a frown, oblivious to the mercury settling in the murky depths of my heart.
“No excuses” I chided her, repressing my broody sentiments, “Tell me”
“I clobbered a dozen or so with the flat of mah blade” She answered after some hesitation, “But I couldn’t kill ‘em. It jus’ wouldn’t have been right”
“They were slaughtering anyone they could get their hands on in that wagon train” I narrowed my eyes, “Just how much of that could be considered right? If I hadn’t subdued their leader and threatened his life, there wouldn’t be as many survivors as there were” I didn’t operate by whatever thickheaded logic Applejack went by, but my methods prevented further bloodshed on both sides.
She couldn’t meet my eyes, “I can’t go against mah morals, Zenith” Her voice was weak, struggling with her principles in the face of straining scrutiny.
I lifted an eyebrow, “Can’t? Or won’t?”
Her jaw set staunchly as her emerald eyes bore into mine, “Both”
I exhaled in exasperation before flicking the reins and clicking my tongue to urge Dusk Breeze to go faster, “That attitude is going to make you a liability if you choose to follow me”
She mirrored our briskness, indignant at my implication, “So ah’m a liability to ya now, hmm?”
“Applejack. How far are you willing to go in order to save those in distress?” I replied with a question in turn, “Even if you personally did not foster favorable impressions of them?”
“Ah’d do whatever it took. Mah personal misgivin’s be damned” She declared resolutely.
I was yet to be convinced, “We’ll see about that”
She adjusted her hat to block out the afternoon sun, “What are ya plannin’ to do anyhow?”
I made sure that no one was within eavesdropping distance before speaking, “I’m going to rescue Braeburn’s beloved, and set her kidnapped people free in the process if I can manage it”
“How? We don’t even know where those durned outlaws spirited her away to!” She expressed her doubts.
“We will soon” I allowed a tiny smirk to form on my face as we came upon the Salt Lick Saloon.
Nothing about the building had changed since last I saw of it. Afternoon business was high, and there was hardly any space at the hitching posts for us to tie up our horses. Lively piano music emanated from the interior from the usual upright style instrument, along with singing that fitted the dulcet tones of a southern belle with talent undiscovered by the world at large. I motioned for Applejack to fall in line behind me as we made our entrance. Our ingress went mostly ignored by the usual customers of the joint, though the barkeep took notice of me quickly and nodded his acknowledgement. On stage was a woman in nineteenth century dress with a group of male and female admirers crowded around her listening to her velvet voice in various states of awe. I returned the barkeep’s friendly gesture absently as I checked my enchanted compass. It pointed me upstairs where the guestrooms were rented out to inconspicuous men like Crooked Cards were hole’d up. We climbed those stairs and emerged into a hallway lined with doorways. The thin floorboards didn’t do a good job of blocking out the clamor from below, and I could just about make out the lyrics of the old timey song that was being played. I removed the noisy spurs on my boots to be safe anyhow.
“What are we doin’ here?” Applejack whispered to me, though I shushed her with a finger and a hiss or air through my teeth.
I ambled down the hallway until the red needle of the compass made a sharp reorientation towards one of the doors. I leaned against it while placing my ear to the wood. My hearing could discern splashing, along with the girlish giggling of two women that was succeeded by the lecherous laughter of a man who had to be Crooked Cards. I wordlessly commanded Applejack to step back a few paces while I pulled out the wanted poster and flattened it. I knocked twice on the door before slipping the wanted poster under the slit so the room’s most important occupant could read it. Afterwards I stepped adjacent to the doorway so I was beside it and next to Applejack before I unholstered my pistol. The giggles ceased and I could hear the sloshing of water as someone got up to change into some clothes and inspect the source of the disturbance. It wasn’t a protracted wait before we heard a muffled curse and some scrambling noises before a hole was promptly blasted in the doorway where I had been standing not five seconds ago. Applejack yelped and backpedaled subconsciously, stumbling clumsily over herself onto the floor. I had to suppress my gentlemanly urges to help her up as I focused on my current objective.
I used magic to force the lock apart before kicking the door down. There were two women (who were alarmingly underdressed for the amount of makeup they were sporting) bathing inside a sizable round tub who shrieked as a barely clad and wet Crooked Cards hastily snatched at his things and smashed through the window of his room in his mad effort to escape me. I ran up to the window to observe the soaked, self defenestrated informant tumbling down the shingles of the slanted roof, landing ungraciously on the ground with an ‘Oomph!’. He had on nothing but a blue shirt and his undergarments, and was about to flee on one of the horses. I idly envisioned what I would do if I wanted to capture him now as he clambered up one of the surprised equines. If I had them, I would have utilized a bigger version of the bolas throwing implement to trip his horse and send him falling into the dusty ground onto his face, though I did not. To further the deception, I made a show of aiming my gun at him (Which somehow scared the crap out of him, as he let out a humorously womanish squeal as he shrank into his seat). He had a pair of saddlebags in one hand and his gun in the other as he kicked his heels into his stallion and galloped like the wind.
I checked my compass and noted with satisfaction that Crooked Cards had unwittingly taken with him the instrument of his own downfall. I had tagged him with a modified variation of True Sight to keep him in my extrasensory field of awareness for a distance of ten miles, but the tag would wear off in an hour or so. This was how much time I would give the lawmen to learn the basics of their guns before I reverted to my lone wolf nature. I could always stealthily engage my opponents if their numbers were impolitic to take head on.
To the naked women (and possible working girls) in the tub scrabbling to cover their bare breasts with their hands, I tipped my hat and prudishly averted my eyes, “Ladies, I humbly suggest finding an alternate method of making an honest living” Leaving them with food for thought, I exited the room where a stunned Applejack was waiting for me.
“H-how’d ya know he’d shoot through the door?” She asked, glancing between me and the still smoking hole in the door with stupefaction.
“I saw it in a movie once” I answered airily, “C’mon. We’ve got a rat to track back to his nest”
“We’re doin’ this alone!?” Applejack’s fire from earlier had all but guttered out by now.
“Well… no. We’ll form a posse with the Sheriff and his deputies first, as soon as they learn the ropes with their new guns” I amended my statement, hoping that the lawmen wouldn’t lose their nerve once we got to the nitty gritty. Being shot at can be daunting to anyone who isn’t used to living with the threat of danger overhead.
It was an uncomfortable wait for me. Crooked Cards only slowed at the two mile mark when he was sure that no one was right on his tail, but he’d be out of my spell’s range soon if he maintained his brisk pace. I still had the compass if he did disappear from my magical senses, but the compass was less refined as a tracking device than True Sight, though few things could match a three dimensional awareness that registered on your brain’s radar. I shuffled apprehensively on Dusk Breeze’s saddle as I awaited the Sheriff and his deputies to quit wasting time and aid me in doing their jobs.
The interval between scaring and then chasing after Crooked Cards did serve one purpose however. North Wind had completed the task I assigned to him and had made his way back to town. His cargo of weapons was missing, so I assumed that the natives received the gift I had meant for them. I wasn’t sure how the Buffalo Braves would respond to a lone animal wandering into their village and seeking out their Chieftain with guns strapped to his rear… but reason must’ve won out, for he returned to us unscathed and ready for more action from his oddly vocal neighs. Applejack smiled, commenting on how the Draft horse in him was eager to be put to work. I switched steeds, as North Wind was developing a better feel for my equestrian techniques than his smaller sibling. Applejack did the same, ditching the palfrey mare for the endurance worthy Dusk Breeze.
An agonizing hour later, Sheriff Silverstar rode up to us with his band of deputized shooters. They did not appear the same as they did when they left to train with their weapons, and all of them bore soot on their faces from the repeated exposure to the black powder smoke emitted from discharging their guns. Dirty as they were, they finally looked the part of the hardened posse hell-bent on bringing justice to the frontier lands. They had pouches of lead shot and powder that their youthful instructor had provided from his ample stores back at his place, which was more than what the worst situation we could run into would require, which pleased me sufficiently. They had brought spare firearms that I didn’t remember supplying them with. Shooting Star explained that those were his prototypes, which while they were inefficient; they would suit as backups if circumstances went sour.
Shooting Star and Lone Star were fond of the pistols, having three each holstered to their chests and sides, while the Sheriff and Clinky Keys were hefting muskets to augment their long range capabilities. Shooting Star had vocally asserted that they were certified beginners in the art of skeet shooting, though they could realistically nail a static target up to a distance of forty five yards only, it meant that they were competent enough to bring this outlaw menace of the desert to an end. After a short protest on the men’s part on the topic of Applejack accompanying us, I invoked my Royal authority and deemed her a valuable companion that was coming with us whether they liked it or not (Which made her cheeks rosy, though she hid her reaction well).
The Sheriff tossed her a blunderbuss, along with an improvised mason jar filled with gunpowder, cotton wadding, and lead pellets. She tentatively accepted the weapon, though she regarded the instrument of death as if it were crawling with creepy crawlies. As she was listening to me when I expounded on the danger of firearms to her on the train ride to Dodge Junction, I could not hold this adverse reaction of hers against her. I hoped that she would not have cause to use it, but if the men enslaving the natives were anything like the trigger happy comrades who raided villages and killed any who resisted them, then it was a hopeless wish. She had sheathed her claymore in the space enchanted saddlebag resting on Dusk Breeze’s flanks, but I saw her make no motion of strapping it to her back, lending credence to the thought that she would defend herself with the high caliber proto-shotgun. After reassuring the Sheriff that my tracking device was functional and working as advertised, I clicked my tongue and had North Wind turn in the direction where we would be shadowing Crooked Cards. Sheriff Silverstar spewed some preparatory pep speech before giving the motion for the group to form up and head on out.
⁂
The man in blue fled fiendishly across the sunbaked sands, unbeknownst to him that we were in hot pursuit (Though that could have just been the merciless rays of the sun). If I hadn’t put my means of tracking him on his person or tagged him with True Sight, the dust cloud he left in his haste to escape us would have been adequately indicative of his relative location. To keep our own dust signature down, I enchanted the horseshoes on each of our steeds to disturb as little dirt as possible, dramatically reducing the debris we left in our wake. It was a day long chase, and along the way the others traded their bantering comments on how many outlaws they could bag with their newfound arsenal. I kept my mouth shut for most of our journey crosswise the scorching earth, save for educating Applejack in the use of the blunderbuss while sidestepping her predictable nosy questioning on how I knew how to use it (Uttering ‘History Channel showed me’ as an answer only served to obfuscate her). Crooked Cards followed a zigzagging path that doubled back and made sudden swerves that made it difficult to ascertain his itinerary. This was a sign to me that he had the nous to shake off his pursuers, whether they were behind him or not.
While Crooked Cards made it a challenge to foresee where his dastardly buddies were hiding out, the regular compass that I had with me denoted that it generally lay to the southeast, which was beyond the furthest extent of the Arcanian settlements and entirely devoid of natives (With the possible exception of the ones we were trying to rescue from captivity). The Sheriff had limited experience with the topography of the land here, which were mostly uplands with craggy rocks and odd rock formations that resembled boulders balancing themselves atop upward jutting stones that thinned to a needle point. We frequently had ourselves swigs from the water canteens that Clinky Keys had the foresight to bring in bulk, as the dry air would rapidly parch your throat if you weren’t too careful.
The gold orange bars peering over the edge of the background had us stopping for the night to set up camp and water our exhausted horses, not to mention ourselves. We stood witness as the last ruddy rays of the sunset blazed momentarily before yielding to twilight, with the sky taking on a pinkish-purple hue reminiscent of the woman who was named after it. The setting of the sun under the horizon was the deliverance that we were waiting for. Each of us had been drenched in sweat that evaporated almost as quickly as it appeared, as the scheduled season of winter in Arcania meant nothing to the torrid temperatures in its metaphorical nether regions. I scouted out our fleeing friend’s bivouac (He fled without packing his essentials, the flighty fool) and reported that he wouldn’t be on the move until dawn’s first light. We pulled back to a manageable site and kept a safe distance from Crooked Card’s campfire in the bosom of the rocky hills as we dug our own Dakota fire pits in the ground to bury the light using folding spades that the Sheriff prudently packed. The smoke was the only thing that was a challenge to hide, though the design of the fire pits made it so that less overall smoke was produced. I could only hope that Crooked Cards wasn’t so paranoid that he’d somehow see it in the periphery.
Our horses were well trained, so they didn’t wander off while we relaxed, not that they could go anywhere in this darkness without a rider urging them with their heels. The primary pit was for the Sheriff and his men, and they ate a dinner of beef jerky and other dehydrated vittles as they circled around the fire to chat amicably amongst themselves. Lone Star had actually taken his dreadnought style acoustic guitar with him and was plunking at it in practice before launching into a heartfelt tune that I could’ve swore I had heard somewhere in the past. The notes drifted through the air harmlessly, since we were out of hearing range of Crooked Card’s position, though I did advise him not to get too zealous with his playing. A second pit was dug from my own purposes of isolation, as I wanted to maintain my sense of privacy. I contemplated the shaman’s words to me as I gazed into the crackling flames. So deep was my musing that my senses were effectively deadened to the world about me.
This of course did nothing to deter my cowgirl companion from inviting herself over to my comfy slice of Arcanian soil.
“It’s a nice evenin’, ain’t it Zenith?” She commented as she parked her keister diametrically opposite to me on my unfurled bedroll.
“Sure” I absently replied, attentively watching the dancing shadows of the fire as it sputtered and flickered to absorb more oxygen to fuel its combustion. I didn’t bother with scooping a secondary air hole for my fire, as it was too miniscule to be worth expending the mana to cast a scaled down tunneling spell.
I could spy with my peripherals the frown that she sported over my terse response, which was unsatisfactory to her, “Can you and I talk for a sec?”
“We’re talking now” I sarcastically retorted without skipping a beat.
She ignored the sally, huffing through her nostrils, “I wanted to talk about the cantankerous way ya’ve been dealin’ with these outlaws” The skin on her brow furled, “As an Agent of the Princesses, yer sumthin’ of a representative of theirs, aren’t ya?”
I nodded affirmatively, “That is correct… up to a point”
“No, not up to a point” She gainsaid me, “Yer their representative, and that means that yer decorum should match yer station”
“Decorum? You’re beginning to sound like Rarity” I verbally jabbed at her, “I enforce their Majesties’ Will where and when it needs to be enforced, but other than that, I can practice my own mode of agency”
“Does practicin’ that agency include butcherin’ bandits without remorse?” Applejack snidely challenged, “Cause that ain’t the type of behavior ah’d expect from the man mah lil’ sis looks up to”
I stared at her over the muffled light of the fire with flinty eyes, “Does that frighten you?” Do I frighten you? I left implied.
“No!” She blurted out, before shrinking a little, “Well… kinda” She admitted, “I’ve been talkin’ to the others about what happened after you and mah cuz were challenged to a duel. They told me that you didn’t spare a single one, or even collect on their bounties! I mean… seein’ you hunt these outlaws down so implacably is…” She failed to summarize how she felt about that.
“I have committed some highly questionable acts during my time in this world, Applejack” I confessed her in a solemn voice, “Things I had never even dreamed I was capable of. And yet I have… and without the barest hints of hesitation, or remorse after the deed”
“Why?” Applejack asked in a trembling voice.
“So honest folks like you don’t have to” I rolled over and pulled the material of my sleeping bag so it girded my chest. I faced away from her, “Get some sleep, AJ. I’ve a feeling you’re going to need it tomorrow”
But that was not the end of this conversation, not for her.
“No… no, I won’t have you shuttin’ me out again like you do so damn often!” She raised her voice, attracting the attention of the others, who were murmuring by the warmth of the campfire.
“Volume control, Applejack” I primly chided her in place of Rarity, “What is it?” I twisted on the floor to respectfully reestablish eye contact. The cowgirl warranted my patience, even if her headstrong tendencies grated on my sleep deprived mood.
I expected her to be angry, or to at least foster a heavy scowl, but her countenance was rather soft, tender even.
“Look, Zenith” She was unsure of herself, “Ah’m not sure I can understand how a good man like you can be like… this, though I know you have yer reasons. I’ll never agree with you that honesty isn’t the standard we should hold ourselves accountable to, but I also realize that there are people out there who exploit honest folk and somehow justify it to themselves” She grit her teeth, “Like those city slickin’ glorified nibblers that tried to seize mah family’s orchard to feed that fancy mechanical doohickey of theirs” She spoke sourly as she referenced the rather disreputable Flim Flam brothers.
“But in mah heart of hearts… I think yer an honest feller,” She stated, this curveball of hers throwing me for a loop, “Don’t mistake me, Zenith. It irks me to no end when I hear you bendin’ the truth or avoidin’ utterin’ it altogether, but that ain’t what I mean” She groaned in frustration, finding it difficult to appropriately express herself on this, much like Rainbow did at times, “Despite mah dislike for yer underhandedness… ah’m startin’ to get that it’s jus’ you bein’ you. I never see ya tryin’ to be sumthin’ you ain’t, never seen ya attempt to alter who ya are to suit someone else’s needs”
“Seems like I’m being more selfish than genuine” I observed.
“Let me finish mah thought, will ya?” She rebuked me, “What ah’m havin’ a heckuva time sayin’ is just… you’re true to yerself. I’ve noticed that ya never put on an act that’s unlike you. You’re reliable too, and when ya dedicate yerself to sumthin’, nothin’ll stop ya from seein’ it through. Ya got one face to show the world, and nothin’ about ya to hide” Her expression fell, “Which is why this aggression of yers is so unsettlin’ ta me, cause I know it’s real”
I sat up from my sleeping bag to give her the consideration she deserved, “I’m a mission oriented individual, Applejack” I told her, “And one that fiercely guards his personal morals. That’s a recipe for a relentless Agent who will kill if it comes to it. Those outlaws were stupid enough to challenge your cousin and I to a duel to the death. Maybe the fact that they were the only men in the southwest that had firearms gave them a false sense of invincibility, because they rode into town like they owned the place without a single hint of fear”
I reached over to snatch a chunk of firewood to toss into the fire pit, “I’ve seen these men at work firsthand, AJ, and what they do is a bloody business. If I thought they could be redeemed, I would’ve given them that chance. That chance went up in smoke the millisecond they drew their pistols on me in that ghost town”
“What happened there?” She inquired, her eyes gleaming with an amalgam of dulled dread and energized excitement.
I scoffed, “You’re itchin’ for a heroic bedtime story, eh? Well too bad. Maybe I’ll relate it to you later”
“C’mon, Zenith!” She threw her hands up in aggravation, “I know yer jus’ dyin’ to increase that local legend of yours that’s cultivatin’ around town, and probably the nation by now too”
“What legend?” I had no idea what she was referring to.
“Don’t tell me ya didn’t know!?” Applejack grinned like a hyena, “Think about it. Folks ‘round Magiville hardly know a durn thing about you, except that you’re from outta town, come from the Capital, and keep to yerself. The last visitor we received from the Capital that stayed spiced up life in Magiville to a degree that I doubt anybody could’ve possibly imagined, and you’re no different”
This person she was referencing was Twilight Sparkle, of course.
I got what she was insinuating, “Just what kind of legends have been spun about me?”
“Are ya sure you want to know?” She cheekily glanced sidelong at me.
“Yes” I confirmed, “Because when we get home, I’m going to personally call a town meeting to shoot down any disingenuous assertions made about me” I had that authority now, I checked.
“Oh, come off it!” She wagged a hand in the air, “They’re not bad… if anythin’, a lot are quite flatterin’ to you. Let’s see” She held up her right palm with her fingers extended and counted, “Some people think you’re some kinda hunter lookin’ for big game in the Neverfree forest, as your house is closer to it than Fluttershy’s is”
I hummed in thought, not replying to that. This notion was amusing, but totally untrue… at least for now. For imagination’s sake, I idly envisioned wearing a pith helmet like Daring and dragging home my supper after pumping it full of lead with an oversized elephant gun. The manly image was so humorous that I very nearly chuckled.
Applejack wiggled her second finger, “This one is odd, and I’m not sure if it’s a generally accepted one, but the rumor is that you’re not actually from the capital at all…” She then intentionally vacillated, keeping me in suspense.
Could someone have discovered the secret that only a handful of people knew and circulated it around town? Best I wait for her to finish this one before I needlessly interrupt her.
“…but that yer a wanderin’ incubus lookin’ to prey on vulnerable, emotionally dependent women and drain them of all their love!” She wiggled her fingertips at me and made an adorable ‘OoOoh!’ ghostly trill.
That one did manage to get a chuckle out of me, “That’s pretty out there, even for a rumor, AJ”
“I dunno” She said, turning her face away, “I have some doubts of mah own there”
“It’s ridiculous, bar none” I stood by my opinion, “Only changelings prey on the energies emitted by positive emotions, and I have been informed that they don’t discriminate based on gender, so dudes would have to be fair game to lend validation to that ludicrous idea” Plus they physically altered their appearance, whereas I could manipulate the way that people could perceive me with magic.
“So yer not interested in drainin’ Rarity and Fluttershy of their love?” She grinningly laid out a verbal trap for me.
“They both have too much to give for me to accomplish that” I answered genuinely, “Rarity is Generous with her affections and Fluttershy practically radiates a rejuvenating aura of Kindness that I yearn to bask in even now”
Though with Rarity… I was beginning to suspect that she saw me as a proverbial damaged tapestry in desperate need of her repairs. I did admit to her in Concordia that there was an emptiness in me in greater detail than with anyone else, with the probable exceptions of Twilight and Lyra, who either knew and were too courteous to broach the subject, or their minds were too overloaded with information to effectively process it. The seamstress is still as melodramatic as ever as a rule of conduct, but there is an underlying tenderness towards me in our private moments, which gives me pause whenever I am dubious as to whether she really harbors legitimate love for me, or my status as a potential prince of her dreams. She was sincerely repentant about using a love potion to influence my opinions of her, and I’ve found that hinting towards that mistake of hers is a good way to get her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“I miss ‘em too” Applejack deflated a tad, “All this hubbub goin’ on here in the south has me thinkin’ what our friends would do in this situation”
“Like with the wagon train?” I inquired, to which she nodded, “Well… I certainly would’ve appreciated the extra magic that Twilight could have contributed to the clash. Rainbow’s agility and nimbleness would have made her a valuable person to have watching my back too” The others… I would prefer to have as far from bloodshed as possible. Not that they were incapable of handling themselves (barring Fluttershy) when everyone’s blood was up, but they were not front-liners.
AJ raised an apoplectic eyebrow, “So ah was useless in that fight then?” Her teeth clamped shut indignantly. One of the few things that Applejack absolutely despised was the implication that she counterproductive.
I resisted an agitated groan.
I didn’t want to discuss this touchy subject with her any further, “You did fine, Applejack, but do not expect the mercy you show to others to always be mirrored” I warned her.
She crossed her arms together, “Jus’ what are you sayin’?”
“It’s quite simple, Applejack” I used my patronizing tone, “When you’re going toe to toe with men who are after your life, it’s best to deny them that chance… permanently”
“I already told ya before, Zenith! I won’t kill, not if I don’t hafta!” She maintained her stubborn refusal to take that small step… into a cold, clinical manner of assessing and dispatching foes.
“Just offering some tried and true advice, AJ” I made it out as if it was no big deal to me.
“Keep it to yerself” She snorted in disdain, “I don’t wanna end up bein’ some merciless Agent who’s lackin’ a heart”
That was not cool, “I showed mercy when I spared Wild Bull’s miserable life” I half snarled in reply, “If I hadn’t, then I’m sure some other bloodthirsty tribal warrior with more muscles than brain would rally his supporters to wage war on the settlers, and all of that senseless death would have been for naught!” But with the comatose Wild Bull effectively neutralized, I had bought the time required to free the native’s kidnapped brethren and restore peace to the frontier.
Applejack flinched at my hostility, “Gosh… I-I didn’t mean ta-”
“Didn’t mean to what?” I cut her off rudely, “Judge me with the guidance of that unimpeachable moral compass of yours?” My face reddened as I fought to control my volume, “Has it ever occurred to you that you don’t know all the facts? That you cannot deem all matters as black or white? You have not lived my life, Applejack… You have not had to make the hard choices that I had to, not only in order to survive, but to ensure that others do as well”
I wanted to keep ranting, but it was getting late, and the energy to do so was leaving me. I heaved a sigh that was saturated from all the bottled up stress that I’ve had to deal with, “Do you know about the first time I killed someone?”
She was silent, unable to respond to that.
“It wasn’t long after I had arrived in this world” I began, “Hell, it was even before I met Celestia and Luna. I was getting my bearings in the Krystal Kingdom when I was summoned to the throne room. Princess Cadence had a break-in that resulted in some of her palace guards being hospitalized. She tasked myself and another special individual with discovering the culprits of this act while reclaiming a priceless historical artifact with ominous abilities to grant powers untold to whosoever drank the aqua vitae from it. The Princess opened the figurative door for us and sent us on our way. After some initial… obstacles, the details of which I won’t bore you with, we managed to discern the culprits’ intentions and where they were headed”
I did not fail to notice that the other guys had quieted their conversations to eavesdrop on us, and they were particularly drawn in by my story, “We boarded a train that they had hijacked at the last second and do-si-doe’d with some goons that the main perpetrator had hired as his paid muscle. I was inexperienced at this time and therefore was unable to risk a direct engagement with my dance partner, though he had no issues swinging his clawed weapons at me… which he had set on fire, by the way” I added as an afterthought, “The train’s cargo consisted of crates of dynamite that were bound for some northern mining outpost, so imagine our mutual shock when the blundering goon I was tussling with accidentally ignites one of those crates”
The guys listening in on us collectively winced. Applejack on the other hand, was enraptured by my tale.
“I escaped the blast since I recognized the danger right away and bolted, though the force of the explosion sent me careening into a passenger car as the train derailed on a cliffside” I shivered, recalling the splitting headache I came to with, “When I awoke, the train car I was in was dangling precariously over the side of the cliff, with my companion’s grip on a handhold weakening with each moment” That was the abridged version of the events, anyway.
Applejack held a finger to her lip in contemplation, “I think I know this one…”
With how vocal Rainbow Dash was with her favorite series of adventure slash autobiographical books, I did not doubt that.
“Don’t interrupt” I chided her, “My companion was Skyborn and under normal circumstances could have easily saved herself. However, owing to an injury she has sustained on a prior trip, she was incapable of summoning her wings, and at the mercy of gravity should she fall. She called out to me for aid, making me aware of her unfavorable circumstances”
“I did some rock climbing activities back home” I shared a miniscule detail about myself, “So it wasn’t hard for me to hop earthwards while grabbing onto whatever handholds presented themselves as I made my way to her” This was where I withheld the truth again, since the others were listening in, “I saved her from plunging to her death, though only just. The passenger car ultimately detached and impacted the frozen earth below, and it would have been our tomb had I not retained my keen reflexes”
“Now where have ah heard this before?” Applejack muttered, which I disregarded.
“We rose up the side of the cliff and marveled at our continued survival, though we didn’t tarry for a great time. After we scrounged around the wreck train site for useful supplies, we set off in search of our mutual quarry, all of whom had left traceable tracks in the snow” I scooted closer to the fire, “The frozen wastes of the North are an unforgiving place, and the temperature was steadily dropping with each passing hour. The tracks led us to an outcropping in the side of one of the mountains that was hiding a cave entrance, where we took shelter for the night” And kept each other warm, though Applejack didn’t need to know about my then blossoming relationship with Daring Do.
“What about yer adversaries?” Shooting Star inquired from across our campsite. The others groaned as their eavesdropping jig was up.
“They had to bed down for the night, same as us” I told him, “In the morning we broke up our makeshift camp to resume our chase for the stolen chalice. We plumbed the fathoms of the stone tunnel network, walking deeper into the depths of the cave” I shook my head, “You would not believe what we found in the heart of the mountain”
“A forest?” Applejack spoiled for everybody. I flashed her a glare, warning her not to ruin any more of my narrative.
“Yes” I acknowledged, gritting my teeth slightly, “Though it was more like a jungle than anything else. The air was warm, humid even. The soil beneath our feet wasn’t rocky, but soft and loamy. The forest was lush and verdant green, with fissures in the ceiling allowing sunlight to penetrate from above”
“That can’t be right” Silverstar muttered, “The interior of a mountain ain’t no place for an honest to Princess jungle to be growin’!”
“And yet it was there, in complete defiance of all expectations” I noted with an ironic inflection, “But there was a special reason for this forest’s existence, and it had to do with its irrigation. Once the sense of wonder wore off and duty replaced it, we traversed this alien greenery” I remembered how eerily silent it was, as if we were trespassing on sacred ground. Even Daring was made uneasy by an obscure sense that we were being watched.
“That was when we walked straight into a trap!” I held out an open hand before clasping it together to illustrate the closing net that swallowed us up, “Our opponents knew we were right on their tails, and so they lay in wait to ambush us. I won’t lie… they caught us in a rather compromising position” I awkwardly recollected. The guys chuckled as their overactive imaginations filled in the gaps.
Did I have any contrition for not taking advantage of it? Especially now that I haven’t seen her in what seems like forever? Of course not. I was better than that. Always will be.
“My companion’s arch nemesis was smug as he emerged from the undergrowth to gloat about our capture, and to point out the scandalous physical contact we were inadvertently engaged in” I rolled my eyes at Ow-who-something-something’s overblown bravado, as if we weren’t already aware of our predicament, “My companion had a history with this odious fellow, and her recalcitrant quips visibly got under his skin. He recovered fast though, claiming that we would bear witness to his ascension to Godhood before he killed us”
“Godhood?” Clinky chimed in.
“The chalice he had stolen from the Krystal Kingdom belonged to none other than the infamous King Sombra” The men fell quiet at that. Even in this time and as far removed from the North as we were, his caliginous name still carried weight.
“This crystalline cup had the ability to bestow immortality and incredible powers on those who drank the aqua vitae as I might have mentioned earlier” I said, “But what I didn’t tell you was that it was drinking from that chalice that had Sombra spiral into a bottomless pit of madness and cruelty. He was unhinged before, but there was no coming back for him after fatefully sipping from that cup. This was why stopping our mutual nemesis was so important” I reiterated, “The Krystal Kingdom really didn’t need a second Sombra inflicted upon them, not after everything they suffered”
Images of a melancholic Crystal Clear stroking the case containing her deceased husband’s ring or dusting her dead son’s room came to mind, and I knew then I would never feel regret for ending that bastard’s life. The Krystal people had suffered enough at the hands of one power hungry, staircase obsessed tyrant.
“This is where I disclose who our nemesis really was” I announced, since all pretenses of this being a private tale for Applejack had evaporated, “I don’t know what nationality he came from, or what his people called themselves, but this man was named Ahuizotl”
“Ow-who-what-l?” Lone Star expressed in confusion.
“Exactly” I winked at him in amusement, “He was foreign, very much so I might add. He and Daring had been at each other’s necks for a while, from what I could glean from their attitudes towards each other. The running gag, though I’d never say it to Daring’s face, was that she’d usually get herself captured and thrust into an elaborate deathtrap of his design. She would foil this trap and somehow snatch the forbidden artifact from his grubby, unwashed hands using her wit and dexterity to upset his plans for whatever it was he so desperately wanted… world domination maybe?” He did come off as a rather one dimensional madman.
I realized I was on a tangent and altered course, “His desires are irrelevant though. What mattered was that with as tied up as we were then, we were utterly at his mercy” Perchance I could have used my Tantō to cut our way out of that net, but his goons would have discharged their crossbows at us the moment they spied any movement. And this was shortly before I learned I was capable of casting magic, so the chances of defying death weren’t exactly in our favor.
Some of the men had vacated their spots next to the first campfire and gathered around mine. Their eyes sparkled with interest, though Applejack knew of this tale from Rainbow. It must have been secondhand information though, as she was still alert and listening with suppressed eagerness. I was flattered by how riveted they were, as I did not view myself as much of a storyteller. But their interest in me was as subjective as my own opinion of myself, so there was that.
“Owie, as I’m going to abbreviate him as, disclosed his maniacal plans of acquiring power to us before drugging us with some kind of knockout powder” I held out my cupped hand and blew, “The chemicals in it were potent, and Daring was incapacitated in moments”
Even I had to struggle in order to remain conscious, and I had a Trifect’s resilience to back me up, “I was conscious, and only vaguely aware of what was going on as Owie’s goons hauled his captive prizes through the alien rainforest. I memorized some of the landmarks along the path, before it diverged into another cave tunnel, where the din of rushing water sounded with a distinctive roar. Owie’s goons deposited us on the cold stone floor and began to bind us together by the wrists” I idly pondered whether Jomar had purposely allowed as much leeway with our bindings as he did.
There had been a couple of occasions where I wondered if that heartbeat I perceived in that cavern was real or a product of my wild imagination. I was under the influence of knockout drugs to be sure, but the hallucinations were primarily visual. My auditory senses were intact as far as I was aware. Distorted mind you, but intact.
“They removed my torpor and Daring’s unconsciousness by splashing us with ice cold water from their flasks. It was then that Owie committed one of the greatest sins of a megalomaniacal antagonist hell-bent on acquiring power… he monologue’d about his inevitable ascension to godhood, and how it was made more delicious by having us bear witness to it before he killed us in some horrible fashion”
The men inhaled sharply and murmured to themselves, and even Applejack frowned heavily at this, in spite of knowing this story and presumably its outcome.
“Anyhow… his talking gave us the time I needed to adequately free up my hands to grasp at the scabbard of my Tantō” I demonstrated by pulling out the aforementioned blade, which the others eyed with interest, “Twirling it in my fingertips, I began sawing away at our bindings as his men were distracted by their boss’s inane ramblings” It helped that the rope they used on us wasn’t heavy duty and that the cutting edge of my Tantō was terrifyingly sharp.
“Once I had stealthily freed us from our bonds, I informed Daring of my plan, which involved the usage of two devices I had on me that would shift the balance of control towards us” I paused to look up at the cloudy night sky. How would I describe such modern implements to people who hadn’t a clue what they were?
“I’ll keep the tools I had with me simple. Both of which were canisters that had unique functions” And that Celestia had managed to reproduce similar versions of for wide scale use, “The first was a canister that when primed and thrown, would unleash an incredible explosion of light and noise, which would stun our captors. The second was a refined version of a smoke bomb, which would shroud our escape and make putting a crossbolt in our backs significantly harder. I gave Daring Do the smoke canister, while I kept the flash bang for myself to use when the time was right”
“Owie was so absorbed by his premature gloating and his obsession with the concept that attaching a weight to us and dumping us in the aqua vitae equaled an eternity of drowning without the relief of death that he was unaware of his own imminent downfall” At that the others went pale, finding the idea of forever drowning to be uncannily disturbing.
“All villains eventually stop talking and get on with it however,” I probably wouldn’t be here if Ahuizotl was practical about killing us and getting it over with, “He produced the Crystal Chalice from under his robes. It was a deceptively pretty thing. You’d never know what it was capable of just by having a gander at it. Owie recited some forbidden incantation and despite his physical inability to channel magic, the cup began to levitate on its own towards the pool of aqua vitae beneath us” I pretended to be holding a cup as I dunked it in an invisible water source.
My audience was under my spell, metaphorically speaking, “It dipped itself in the waters of everlasting life and brought a generous dose of it to its master, who asked us what our final words were before he sent us ‘down the rrriver so to speak’” I emulated the god awful way he rolled his R’s, smirking when my audience grimaced, “That was go time for me to roll the flash bang in between Owie and his hired muscle and shield my senses as best I could”
I expelled air through my lips, “I’ll tell you, even with my eyes and ears covered, those flash bangs are some serious stuff. With Owie and company incapacitated and clutching at their heads like they were trying to pull off a rabid animal scratching at it, I charged forwards towards the man responsible for this mess. Incredibly, he was still holding the chalice in one hand while pawing at his face with the other. He never saw the knife I had hidden on me until it was jutting out the back of his throat, with his bid for immortality and power slipping away from him like the vital fluid flowing past his fingers as he fruitlessly attempted to stem the blood loss” Applejack went green around the gills, while the guys sympathetically rubbed at their adam’s apples.
“Land sakes” Applejack breathed slowly, her face going pallid, “Didja have to kill him?”
I sat back and mock contemplated this, “Hmm… I suppose I could have let him condemn us to an eternity of suffering without release, and seize all of that arcane power for himself. It’s not like he would have done something evil with it or anything” My tone was practically saturated with snark.
“No. Not what I meant. Couldn’t you have jus’ knocked him out or sumthin’?” The cowgirl inquired once she had gotten over her nausea.
“I was unversed in the ways of combat at this time, remember?” I retorted casually, “All I knew then was that going for the vital region of the throat was the safest option… though, kicking him into the pool of aqua vitae may not have been the wisest of ideas on my part. But as you can see, he left me little choice but to kill him” It was for the best, cliché as it was then and now, “Somehow his cadaver reacted negatively with the cavern’s waters of life and caused the cave chamber we were in to rumble and shake like we were at the epicenter of some earthquake”
“Earthquake? What are those?” Clinky knitted his brow.
“You people are unbelievably blessed that this planet’s landmasses are so seismologically stable” Or at least they were in Arcania, “Earthquakes are ground tremors that can range from being barely noticeable to so extreme that substantial swathes of land are split in two. Generally they’re bad news if in the latter category” The law keeping men were unnerved by this info.
Back to the story that I myself was so caught up in, “The tremors tore a fissure in the earth, and the chalice that was our mission to retrieve rolled in without a care in the world. Daring refused to acknowledge a failure of our mission, and dove in after it without heed to her wing-point injury. Being the fool I was, I did the same, only it was her that I was snatching at”
“An’ what happened then?” Shooting Star wanted to know. There was childlike glee in his eyes. He must’ve loved story time as a kid.
“Daring and I had to put up with a lot of bullcrap in order to get our hands on that chalice, so I couldn’t blame her for her act of desperation. Unfortunately, her desperation could not elongate her arms, so the chalice resting on a shelf sat mockingly beyond her reach” Daring was almost heartbroken when I begged her to let it go, “The collapsing cave wouldn’t wait for us, so I gave her a choice. She could gamble with her life for some overrated cup that did more harm than good, or she could come with me and we could get the hell outta there. Reason prevailed in the end, and we left that miserable, damp cave to swallow itself whole. The smoke screen provided by the cylinder I gave Daring proved an effective deterrent against Owie’s hired help, and they lost sight of us thanks to the thick shrubbery of the forest”
I glazed over the fact that my magic had chosen that prior moment to awaken and levitate the chalice over to my possession as if it were nothing. Applejack’s expressionless face made it impossible to discern whether or not this lie of omission was detected. Her patented Lie-dar wasn’t foolproof, not around me at any rate, but that was because I knew the secret of mixing in just enough truth to obscure the lies. That she heard of the book from Rainbow and still did not call me out on this meant that she likely tuned the athletic Valkyrian girl out as she blathered on about her favorite book series.
“So the chalice was lost forever then?” Sheriff Silverstar gave his input, almost as if he was subconsciously putting me to the test.
“The Crystal Chalice of Sombra is situated in the deepest darkness until further notice” I answered ambiguously. Knowing how many wards were placed on it this time around, that could’ve been an understatement.
“Daring and I regrouped in the alien rainforest, but we were not given a moment to recoup our breath. Owie’s thugs did not take kindly to having their employment contract voided before the payoff, and were out for our blood… or one of them was, anyway. The roles were reversed, as we were the ones to be chased on this go. We retreated through the jungle with all haste the motivation of dodging an arrow to the back could grant us. I recalled the landmark of a fallen tree trunk acting as a bridge and urged Daring to follow me as we lured our pursuers across it. They took the bait, and their reward was a lit stick of dynamite that Daring had shrewdly dropped into a hollowed out branch”
Everyone who wasn’t Applejack or myself winced, all of them familiar with the explosive effects of TNT, “The first goon over the bridge was consumed in the blast and the second one was flung into the river below” Was Jomar everlasting because of his exposure to the aqua vitae? I doubted it. Ahuizotl himself stated that one had to be immersed or drink from the chalice to obtain an extended expiration date, “With no immediate dangers threatening us, we set a relaxed pace back to the cave entrance we used to enter that strange, evocative pit in the mountain’s belly. You’d think that’d be the last of it, but there was one loose end that needed tending”
I waited several seconds for them to guess what it was before I did it for them.
“That feller who was hurled into the waters” Applejack started, “He wouldn’t have been the same feller I saw escortin’ you around durin’ the games, was he?”
“How astute of you, Applejack” I complimented her, “That is indeed the very person I was hinting at. His name is Jomar, but I wasn’t able to learn it until he loudly announced his intentions behind us by cocking his crossbow”
“Did ya bull rush him too? Did ya, did ya?” Clinky chattered excitedly.
“Notice how he said his name is Jomar, Clinky. Folks like our Royal Agent friend here are particular with their words… heed ‘em carefully” The Sheriff corrected his deputy for me. The leader of the posse had some sense in his head, which was quite comforting given the task ahead.
Clinky made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth as he finally processed this, “Jomar is a right funny name, ain’t it?” He commented.
“Variety is the spice of life” I shrugged noncommittally, “Anywho, it was not his name that was demanding my attention the most… no, that was the crossbow in his arms primed and ready to fire. Daring could dodge it for sure. I however was vastly inexperienced, even if I had taken my first kill”
“But this was not your typical standoff, no” I wiggled a finger in the air, “Whereas all of Owie’s prior lackeys had no problems putting villages to the torch if their boss so ordered it (which Daring disclosed to me that he did on a previous quest), I noticed that there was a profound difference in this man. He was reluctant to embrace the brutish violence of his cohorts. He was gentle when carrying me to the cavern of everlasting life, and I suspected that he purposely missed his shots when he and his comrade pursued us through the forest” The kitten pelt he wore should have been indicative enough as to his mannerisms.
“And yet he had a weapon in his hands, and was pointin’ it at you. So what did that all matter?” Sheriff Silverstar huffed gruffly.
“It mattered to me” I replied tersely, “I sensed something in this man that I could not find in his colleagues: benevolence. Besides, if he were bent on killing us, he wouldn’t have betrayed his presence to us so overtly. Only Owie had that insensible flair for the dramatic. I interpreted it as a masked cry for help, and so I chanced a crossbolt in the chest to say my piece”
“An’ what did ya tell him?” Applejack asked, looking unsure about how she saw me with this information.
“I told him the truth. I pointed out that his master was dead, his plans for world domination dashed,” I grinned wryly at the inside joke of a pun, while AJ eye rolled, “and that he would share that fate if he did not surrender himself to us”
“So he accepted then?” Lone Star surmised.
“My read on him was accurate” I confirmed, “His weapon clattered to the ground as it fell from his fingers and he submitted to our authority without resistance. Daring wasn’t too pleased with this and expected treachery from him at any moment, but she respected my decision to give him an opportunity to prove his willingness to turn over a new leaf. Today, Jomar is under house arrest in the Krystal Kingdom and directly serving Princess Cadence”
He cleaned up nicely too, much better than that horrid cat skin pelt draped over his shoulders. I should feel prideful at his rehabilitation, but I only gave him an alternate path to follow. Cadence did the rest.
“Wow-ie, Mister. Ya’ve sure seen a lot” Shooting Star remarked, youthful admiration in his tone.
“Yes, I have” I exhaled tiredly, “Anyhow, I figure that’ll serve as your bedtime tale for tonight. Get some sleep everybody, we head out before dawn’s first light”
The men obeyed, removing themselves from my campfire space and unrolling their bedrolls to get some necessary shuteye.
“Hey, Zenith?” Applejack whispered to me, “Maybe I misjudged you. I had the pleasure of speakin’ with that Jomar fella after the games, durin’ the interval when you went missin’ on that grand adventure you provided only the scantest details of. He told me that he owed you a life debt that he could never fully repay, an’ now ah know why” Her tone was tender, “Any decent man who knows when to spare a life, also knows when to take one”
“Oh?” I shifted in my roll to meet her eyes, eager to learn her thoughts.
“I trust ya, Zenith” She averred gingerly, “Jus’ wanted ya to know that. Whatever comes of this nasty business with these kidnappin’ outlaws, you won’t lead us astray. Ah’m sure of it”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence” I sincerely expressed my gratitude, “Now please, get to sleep”
She did so, sighing comfortably as she snuggled into her makeshift bed. I did the same, studying the twinkling stars until my mind grew weary. It wasn’t long before the occasional crackling of the fire lured me into a state of dreamless repose.
⁂
The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon when my eyes reopened. I discerned that I awoke before any of the others (including Applejack, which was an impressive feat in its own), getting up to stretch languidly before digging into my duster for the compass. I frowned when I saw that the red needle had changed its northwest bearing for a nor-easterly one. Crooked Cards was on the move again, and we had best do the same if we wanted to make up for lost time. I walked over to Applejack and crouched to my knees to nudge her awake.
“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty” I greeted her with a totally fake country accent, “How was your rest?”
Her cheeks tinged a tad before she rubbed at her eyes to distract me from noting this, “I slept fine, Zenith. Why are we up so early?”
“Never pegged you as one for sleeping in, AJ” I jibed, much to her chagrin, “Crooked Cards has broken camp. It is time for us to do likewise”
She did so without complaining, though the others were as grumpy as I was waking up without a full night’s recuperation. They got over it mildly fast once I revealed that our prey was mobile though. Sheriff Silverstar silenced the grunts and groans and commanded that the camp be dismantled quickly lest our quarry elude us. We bunched up our bedrolls, saddled our horses, and ate our breakfast on the go as our robust steeds’ hooves pounded into the coarse terrain.
Crooked Cards made no effort of slaloming every five miles or backtracking today, which hinted to me that we might be getting close to our goal. The chase lasted an hour or so and he switched south before anything eventful came up. We galloped on earth sparse with vegetation and abundant with dust before meeting a dirt path that ran along a gorge with a dry riverbed, whose course was winding and jagged, as if someone had scratched and gouged a single letter initial into the earth with a giant knife. The man we were following came within visual distance (for me anyway. My Agrarian pals were virtually nearsighted in comparison) as we crested a small rise in the road. His cocksure, upright posture as he bounced in the saddle was in stark contrast to his cowardice when I surprised him yesterday. Of course, it is easy to feel emboldened when one believes that one has put potential danger in their rearview. I kept my eyes trained on him until he searched the craggy landscape for a shadow casted from a needle like spire, and then directed his horse down a natural steep decline in the cliff-face of the gorge where the shadow was pointing.
‘Now isn’t that intriguing?’ I opined to myself, swearing that I’d seen a trick like that before.
I signaled for my companions to halt with a balled fist raised with my left hand, and while Silverstar was technically in charge of his men, they heeded my gesture. Perhaps they obeyed out of respect for my Royal position or fear that I would harshly punish them for disobedience. With how large a figure North Wind and I cut when combined, it wasn’t challenging to imagine why they might be hesitant to cross me.
“What is it?” Silverstar demanded impatiently, “Are we close to ‘em yet?”
“I suspect so” I answered him, dismounting from North Wind, “Crooked and his buddies are somewhere at the bottom of that chasm, I’m positive about this. I’m going to reconnoiter the canyon, in case this is a trap for us” I was reasonably certain in our retaining the element of surprise, but I liked to err on the safe side.
“Yer goin’ in alone!?” Applejack exclaimed, concern in her voice, “What if they see ya comin’?”
I smirked at her, “They won’t, I promise you. I’ll scout ahead and see if it’s safe to move the group forward. Wait here for ten minutes, then proceed as you will regardless of whether I give you a signal or not”
“What should we look for if’n ya do?” Shooting Star questioned, a grim seriousness in his voice that replaced everything boyish about him. Good, I’d hate to have a wimp with us that was afraid of getting his hands dirty.
“I’ll leave an imprint of three glowing stars on the canyon wall where it’ll be apparent. Assuming no one is there to watch me do it, that is” I frowned as I finished sifting through my adventure pack for precautionary essentials to bring with me, “Along that vein of thought, if you hear the sounds of gunfire, definitely charge on in” The men murmured in concurrence and gripped their newfound firearms tightly, while Applejack begrudgingly palmed hers.
With the group in agreement with the preliminary plan, I cast a spell of concealment on myself that was a refined version of the active camouflage spell I used in the past. I achieved it through some arcane tweaking that I couldn’t really describe in words (much like the taste of water or the smell of unscented air). It was a hybridization of the perception filter and active camo spell, and it not only combined the best qualities of both, but it saved on mana (which I had ample reserves of) and made me incredibly difficult to detect even if there were mages searching for me. My comrades gasped as I effectively made myself invisible, and I heard Silverstar mutter a potentially racist (or would that be Clanist?) remark of “confounded, showoff magicians” under his breath as I departed from their company.
With the spurs of my boot heels removed, the only discernable noise I made as I traversed the downward slope was the muted crunch of gravel. I cut off the invisibility magic when I realized that Crooked was too stupid to check over his shoulders and there was nobody else in sight at the moment besides him. The descent into the canyon went along a natural switchback that zigzagged outwards to accommodate traffic that was wide enough to allow two horse drawn carts to pass each other abreast if need be, as the sunken tracks in the ‘road’ suggested. My eyes swept the area for any signs of life other than Crooked Cards, who I had retagged with True Sight. The man had reached the nadir of the canyon and was trotting upstream. His floating silhouette was all that was visible to me once he rounded the bend. I stuck to the plan and engraved trios of stars on flat surfaces wherever I thought they would be most evident to the posse.
Once the rugged switchback terminated at the bottom, I kept on Crooked’s trail, which I could have followed based on the hoof prints and clip clopping alone. I could tell that there was once a mighty river that flowed through here in ages past that carved this natural mega-structure, based on the desiccated remains of an after-stream of silt and sediments lining the groundwork. There was a negligible trickle of water that was ongoing, but it was only sufficient to cover the flat part of a measuring tape. Interestingly, there were occasional flecks of golden shimmer that captured my eye as I stalked my prey. My curiosity was piqued, but I paid it no mind, focusing all my mental faculties on the task at hand. This was the canyon that was present in Smoky’s memories. I was convinced.
At the five minute mark, I started to worry, as my ability to graffiti the canyon walls with magical stars without being spotted was decreasing; interspersing the frequency of the crude arrow signs. The canyon wasn’t one entity replicating the shape of a slithering snake. It branched off into separate sections at different points, which could easily mislead anyone who didn’t know precisely where they were going. If my companions got lost, that could be a serious problem with neutralizing the outlaws and freeing their native hostages. I did what I could about this problem, and pressed on. At one point the canyon clearance above us was so narrow that you could have vaulted over it with a horse. Eventually, Crooked Cards cantered into a special section of the canyon that explained why the outlaws had made a home here (Aside from its remoteness).
There was gold… A profusion of it! Veins of eye-popping height (ten to fifteen yards!) and width (this was impossible to measure, as it was one continuous vein on each side) lined the canyon walls like an affluent rash. At first it was only a smattering of tiny veins here and there, but as I went deeper into this subsection, it increased exponentially. Soon there was more gold hogging my visual senses than the faded orange of the canyon wall. It reminded me of an old western flick whose name had been lost to me eons ago. The amount of bits here that could be fashioned from this supply were likely to cause extreme hyperinflation if introduced all at once.
I did not research the economic system of Arcania too well (the local markets were absolutely free to determine their own prices, while corporate sized businesses that were typically owned by wealthy and influential families or members of the Concordian nobility were only partially regulated by the government), but I had a feeling that this was a secret I could only share with a select few. Otherwise we might have an Arcanian gold rush on our hands, which I had ambivalent opinions about starting. The mining guilds alone would gravitate to this place like flies to dead flesh. I had to wonder about how the outlaws of all people discovered this natural treasure trove, and with additional rumination, decided that either they happened upon it by beatific chance (unlikely) or someone else knew about this place and relayed it to them. I’d have to investigate this somehow to unearth a connection.
My keen hearing picked up on sounds distinct from the clopping of Crooked’s horse, like the semi distant echoing of people toiling on a rock farm (Which was just an alternate form of the term quarry, since ever quirky Pinkie had a dictionary of her own that she referred to). The sound didn’t have that open aired quality to it though, closer to being underground. I drew my Tantō and stealthily flapped my wings to get a vantage point over his head. I could not allow Crooked Cards to warn his colleagues about what happened in Appleloosa, or about the fates of Smoky Joe’s gang, or this rescue mission would become a lot trickier. The informant had done his part, and now it was time for him to exit stage death. I dropped from the sky in a controlled fall behind his saddle as I quietly plunged the knife through his neck and into his spinal column, killing him instantly. His horse whinnied in surprise and reared up, but I seized the reins from the man’s grasp and brought him to heel before he could cause a racket.
Crooked Cards let out a strangled death rattle before his unsupported weight tilted to one side. I assisted him by pushing the windward side of his head and forcefully ejecting him from the saddle, where he landed with a thump.
“Woah, woah!” I repeated, leaning into the seat to stroke at the equine’s neck. The petting calmed it sufficiently that its nervous side shuffling and rotating was minimized.
After I ensured that his steed had settled down, I dismounted and unbuckled both saddlebags. I rummaged through those bags for anything useful and found nothing beyond a fat bag of ill gotten bits. Feeling poetically vindictive, I singled out the enchanted coin that led to the greedy Crooked’s demise and gave a glance at his rapidly cooling corpse (Or about as cool as it would get in the desert during daylight hours).
“Here…” I flicked it onto his body with a ‘chring!’, “…I won’t have it said I left you with nothing” I echoed his words to the other gamblers in the Salt Lick Saloon.
I collected his pistol (which was of higher quality than the kind that Smoky and his gang carried. It reminded me of a dueling pistol) and stowed it in the manifold pockets of my duster as additional evidence and totally not as a token of a clean kill. I entertained thoughts of stripping him of his clothes and impersonating him to gain access into what was most certainly a mining operation in this canyon, but didn’t know the man to the point where I could reliably pass myself off as him. From what I saw, he spent the majority of his time in Appleloosa learning what he could from a disguised Wild Bull about the secret means and ways of the Buffalo Braves. Being an informant would mean that he wouldn’t be around his outlaw buddies long enough to become anything approaching memorable to them. The safest recourse for me right now was to resume invisibility and infiltrate the mine, and if possible find Strongheart before the company she was in did something unforgivable.
I left his horse to stand idly in the canyon and continued ‘upstream’ to where I first made out the noises of pickaxes and the like hewing away at rock. The narrow passageway of the canyon subsection I was in widened until I could make out a sort of declining semi valley that was hidden from everything that didn’t have a bird’s eye view of the earth below. Several wooden buildings the size of small storehouses were the first objects I saw, and past those were the unmistakable forms of chained up natives chipping at the gold veins with their masters watching over their shoulders, whips and primitive firearms in hand.
When one of the masters perceived that a native wasn’t working to their liking, the whips were cracked and backs were bled. Elsewhere were natives that were sluggishly panning gold dust out of sediment filled bowls using a woody contraption with a sluice gate that unleashed water from a tub like reservoir to flow onto metallic riffles purposed for sifting out the gold dust. With how parched the canyon was, that water likely had to be shipped here. Stretching halfway up the canyon walls and hugging them was rudimentary scaffolding made of lumber and metal beams, with each level accessible via rickety looking planking acting as a stairway ramp. Buckets were weighted with hunks of the bright yellow ores and lowered with a pulley system, where groundside natives would cart it to the largest, smoke emitting building in the rear of the valley for smelting into hefty gold ingots or bullion. Horse drawn flatbeds were present all throughout the valley, as if today was bound to be an exporting day. Fate had a strange sense of humor if it picked today of all days to lure me here.
Not so obvious were tunnel entrances that burrowed to a greater extent into the canyon walls, where supplementary mining was presumably happening. The outlaws had not only set up their hideout here, they had opened up shop too! I would have been hard pressed to remove their infestation by myself. I couldn’t be sure of their personnel numbers yet, but to oversee and maintain an operation of this size with this many natives conducting the labor had to require at least forty or so men, which was more than the number of bullets I had on me. Luckily my companions weren’t far behind, assuming they heeded the signs I left.
The closest of these outlaw buildings to me had to be a security outpost of sorts (shaped like a log blockhouse with glass windows on both floors), as there were multiple horses stabled here off to one side and I could espy moderately drunk outlaws coming and going as they took slave driving shifts. I snuck into this building as the door swung open for a man to make a beeline for the outhouse to hit the head and stayed close to the shoddily made walls. The interior of the blockhouse was similar to the Saloons back in Appleloosa in function on the primary floor, save for the absence of a barkeeper dispensing spirits and a second floor for rooms. The second floor undoubtedly had a commanding view of the canyon entrance and the valley behind it. A repurposed wagon wheel chandelier of cracked spokes and dripping candles provided most of the illumination that the sun could not.
I frowned as I inhaled the unpleasant odor of cigar smoke, drifting from a trio of tables where a dozen or so outlaws were either engaged in conversation or playing cards, with chunks of unrefined gold as the chips. The manifestations of entertainment here in the south were admittedly sparse, but to see these men gamble and puff acrid fumes like chimneys while they enslaved their fellow men outside and beat them for slacking just plain pissed me off. I repressed this anger, saving it for later when it would best advise my aim. Hoping to learn what I could about this dreadful place, I kept hidden and eavesdropped. The dialogues occurring were mundane and otiose to me until a cleanly dressed outlaw with a scar on his lip and a patch of groomed fur on his chin came through the door.
“Any of you louts know when Crooked was supposed to return?” ‘Scarlip’ demanded in a gruff voice, “Or Smoky and his boys for that matter? They were due in yesterday!”
“Dunno” One of the men answered, “Maybe they ran in’ta trouble with the local authorities? Or maybe with the savages? Our raid on their main village didn’t go as planned, no thanks to that one Skyborn prick with the fancy quick shootin’ gun. I know Smoky and his crew wanted to put him in the ground sumthin’ fierce” He muttered, and I recognized this man as one of the figures who got away that night. He would not be so fortunate today.
He then grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth, “On the upside, we did catch their Chieftain’s daughter though. Pretty lookin’ thing… ain’t she?” He pruriently remarked, and I knew that Braeburn would have throttled him for that if he were here.
“Not a man who wishes to keep his genitals attached to his body touches the squaw without mah say” He growled, “The Boss wants to learn all he can from her about the villages that brash fool Wild Bull held out from us, before sendin’ her to the mines along with the rest of her barbaric kin. She’s spirited, that one” His tone held a modicum of respect, “But she’ll break… they all do eventually. Especially after ingestin’ that gnarly gruel the Boss tol’ us to feed ‘em”
Was that supposed to be a joke? Or was there more to it? I bided my time to listen in yet again.
“If she’s resistin’ even then, ya can tell the Boss that ah’d be more than happy to loosen her lips” The weasely man offered, “Among other things…”
“Quiet you!” Scarlip shushed him, before directing his attention to another man, “Hey, New blood! It’s yer turn to supervise group seven”
“Already?” The younger man complained querulously, flicking his hand of semi decent cards onto the table, “Mah break couldn’t have been an hour!”
“Would ya prefer goin’ back to the lousy pay ya got back at that dimwitted fool Tagalong’s Ranch?” Scarlip posited rhetorically.
The man removed his heels from the table and stood up, “Heck naw! Ten bits an hour to shovel shit for all of that stinkin’ cattle? Gimme doped up natives and golden nuggets any day of the week!”
‘Mister Thorpe wouldn’t take kindly to his former employees working for these people’ I mentally murmured, ‘Should I show him mercy? Or has he thrown in his lot with these scumbags unrepentantly?’
“That’s more like it” Scarlip scoffed with self satisfaction, “Get to it. Ah’m gonna notify the Boss that Crooked and Smoky are both late, and see what we oughta do about it. The rest of you gentlemen enjoy yerselves” He exited the building, unaware of his second shadow stalking his footsteps. I masked my footfalls with magic, but with all of the hubbub occurring in this pit, I think it was wasted mana.
Scarlip walked with a slight swagger to one of the mine entrances in the middle of the valley. His subordinates respectfully tipped their hats to him if they crossed paths with the burly man. This indicated to me that he seemed to be the foreman of the operations around here, and he was likely my ticket to finding Strongheart. He kept me in suspense as he made his rounds though, and it had me worried that my companions would swoop in and ruin my element of surprise. I proactively tagged every outlaw I could see with True Sight, knowing ahead of time that the only way we were going to liberate these enslaved Buffalo Braves from the clutches of these vile men was with force. Scarlip stopped a few times to micromanage things, such as berating a newer outlaw for ‘bein’ too soft on the livestock’ or admonishing the sadistic seasoned ones about ‘damaging the merchandise before the next culling brings in new meat’. His callous way of referring to the Buffalo Braves as cattle was queerly ironic in a way, at least from my perspective.
What I didn’t understand was why the natives weren’t rebelling against their captors. I acknowledged that the grown men were few and far between, the native’s members being mainly composed of women, children, and teenagers of both genders, but they had the raw numbers to triumph over the moderately few outlaws and liberate themselves. When I scrutinized these people they simply looked… empty, their eyes glazed over and any lively spark within suppressed. They were not broken per se, but there was something very wrong occurring with these people that prevented them from exuding anything other than a zombie-ish aura. I wished I could have kicked Wild Bull’s ass a second time. Did he even know what his own people were being subjected to because of his lust for power? Perhaps putting him in a permanent magically induced coma was too lenient on my part.
I had to restrain myself from grinding my teeth as I bore silent witness to a man backhanding a child native who was no older than eight and wearing a necklace of painted buffalo bones for letting a wheelbarrow brimming with gold dust tip over before he could dump it into a sack to be loaded onto a wagon, all the while screaming about how each speck of that dust was worth ten of him. This scene did my blood pressure no favors. All of this cruelty for the sake of gold? My trigger finger itched sporadically as it rested on the trigger guard of my revolver, and I wasn’t sure how much time I had before I automatically indulged it.
Scarlip appeared to hadn’t completely lost his humanity however, and after he saw that the man beating the poor boy drew blood, the foreman roared up a storm at his subordinate and decked him in the face with his meaty fist when the offender impertinently backtalked him. It only took a single hit and the man was prone, one of his front teeth knocked out and lying on the dirt beside him. Scarlip flicked his punching hand once (reminding me of the time I slammed my fist into a Skyborn wearing a lightning forged steel helmet, so I could detachedly sympathize) before he called out for a couple of his underlings to patch the scrawny native boy up, send him down to reorientation (whatever the hell that meant) forthwith, and clean the spilled gold dust from the floor.
Once he was done promoting synergy between slave and overseer (not that the former had a choice in the matter), Scarlip shuffled into the maw of one of the crudely dug tunnels. Inside was a macrocosmic latticework of timbered beams keeping the heavy rock above from collapsing inwards and caving in the tunnels. Lanterns were hung from hooks every three beams or so to light the way, but many were burning dimly from the lack of oil in their gas tanks. Simple directional black arrow signs assisted in maneuvering the network of interconnected tunnels, fully fledged mineshafts, and passageways. The sound of pickaxes chipping at stone was present here too; only the echoing was intensified due to the enclosed acoustics of the narrow spaces. Scarlip passed by a crude directory sketched onto a trio of planks attached together with nails, allowing me to get an idea of where everything was relative to the entrances.
The layout of this gold mine was the real deal. There were hollowed out sections of the canyon’s bowels where the gold concentration was highest, square set timbering dividing tons of individual floors through stepladders, and even separate tracks of mine cart rails to expedite the outflow of gold to the surface. This operation was too complex to have been cooked up by these outlaws. They had to have been given support from somebody with ties to organizations that could supply all of this material while sequestering it under the nose of the Crown. There was also the question of where all of this wealth was going. I could not believe for one moment that these unwashed, dimwitted thugs had any aspirations other than gambling or drinking their shares away. No, I think the real answer lay with their Boss, and dear old Scarlip here was to be my escort.
We were on the third underground level, passing by dozens of listless slaves absently pushing mine carts or carrying heaps of ore in wicker baskets on their backs. The dusty air was hot and thick with the stench of sweat and other undesirable odors. The people down here appeared to be the most ‘indoctrinated’ of any natives I had seen yet. Their eyes were wholly clouded over and their movements were robotic as they shuffled about conducting their assigned tasks. How they were able to function at all was a mystery, and I began to suspect that this ‘gruel’ Scarlip had mentioned had mental reconditioning properties to it. Again, knowledge concerning the myriad ingredients required to craft such a horrific foodstuff was additional evidence contrary to the idea of the outlaws’ operating as an independent faction.
He stopped at some kind of room where the Boss of this twisted enterprise resided and knocked on the door twice to announce his arrival before entering. I had to cut it a tad close to get inside the room with him before he shut the door, but I managed. The inside of the room was rather luxurious when compared to what I had seen prior. The furniture was plush, well oiled leather and gave off a fragrant scent that hinted at its newness. There was a desk of rich cherry wood by the door that was lined with yellowed papers and documents that I hoped detailed everything I needed to know about this illicit mining complex and the goings-on within.
Unexpected amenities such as electric lighting made sure that everything was lit, save for a back section of the room where the light was purposefully shut off. In this dark side of the room was the silhouette of a man with a boater leaning over the unmistakable silhouette of Strongheart, who was strapped to a chair using corded ropes. On a table tray to the side and overlaid on a white sheet was a variety of fiendish equipment with less than friendly purposes like hooks, scalpels, drills, and other insidious devices meant for prying information out of somebody the medieval fashion (Including a native’s tomahawk, which must’ve been a sentimental trophy). To my relief, they were clean of blood, but I wasn’t going to give anyone a chance to change that.
The two of them must have been in the middle of a heated discussion, based on the interrogator’s pose of the first silhouette over the second.
“-rying my patience” The man was saying in a semi familiar carnie voice as we walked into the furnished room. He was so absorbed that he hadn’t heard our ingress.
“You think yourself a man by tormenting me?” Strongheart spat in his face, “May you and your cohort languish in the deepest pits of hell for what you’ve done to my people” She hissed defiantly.
The man growled in irritation before raising a hefty stick over her head with violent intention. It was clear that he intended to beat the information out of her, though I doubted that the stubborn native woman would ever yield to scum like him.
Scarlip respectfully rumbled his throat before his boss coshed her with the club (Thus increasing my respect for him, not that it would shelter him from me). The man in the boater hat grumbled in frustration before lowering the club, tossing it on the torture tray with a clatter, and giving his other guest his undivided attention as he stepped out of the shadows. The differences between Flam and his brother were negligible, save for his sweat stained striped clothes, his curled mustache, and disparate frontal hair features.
“Chief Prospector Pyrite” He greeted him with false cheer, “Whatever are you interrupting us for? Can’t you see we’re bonding here?”
“Just thought it prudent to inform ya that Smoky and his boys haven’t come in yet… and nor has Crooked Cards for that issue, Mister Flam” He added as an afterthought.
“Well whataya know; some of our boys are unpunctual. You came here to tell me the obvious?” Flim’s brother said with annoyance, “Smoky and his merry band of hooligans are probably out drinking in one of the towns they haven’t accosted yet. But you are right to notify me about Crooked’s absence. He was supposed to learn about the fate of that Dodge Junction wagon train my brother advised us about” He snorted, “Didn’t take much suggestion for Wild Bull to dirty his hands for us, didn’t it?”
“It’s possible he’s jus’ shirkin’ his duties to us” Pyrite propounded, “Crooked never could pass up relievin’ any sucker dumb enough to try their hand at cards with him. That’s half the reason you made him our informant, ain’t it?” He chuckled, though the shadowy Flam did not share his mirth.
“Whatever the cause may be, his pay will be docked for his negligence” Flam groused, before switching topics, “Well since you’re here, are there any savages who’ve reached the end of their usefulness? We’re two crates of fertilizer short of being able to disguise our next shipment and I wanted it delivered yesterday”
My mind comprehended the meaning behind what he was implying, ‘OH… dear lord that’s disturbing!’ I had to put a stop to this. Now.
Before the Chief Prospector could answer him or I could pump these bastards full of lead, there came a frenzied series of knocks at the door.
“This had better be important, or it’s yer ass!” Pyrite called out, sharing his boss’s distaste for interruptions.
Taking the admonishing as their cue to report, whoever it was spoke through the door, “We’ve been made, sir. The perimeter sentries are under fire!”
Flam was clearly unsettled by this news, though the Chief Prospector took charge relatively fast, throwing the door open to reveal Thorpe’s runaway ranch hand, “They have firearms!? Who are they and how many are attacking?” He demanded from him.
The man shrunk back from the suddenness of Pyrite’s actions, “W-we dunno yet, sir!” He yelped frantically, “They were pickin’ us off from above! And when I left to report to ya, I heard shootin’ groundside too!”
Pyrite was incensed, “Well don’ jus’ stand there! Mobilize the rest of the boys and deal with ‘em! Use the savages as meat shields if ya have to!” He turned to his boss, “Sorry, Boss Flam, but it seems the cat’s outta the bag”
“Compromised eh?” Flam turned to glare darkly at Strongheart, “Defend our assets, Pyrite. I’ll make sure there will never be peace between settler and savage again”
And with that, Chief Prospector Pyrite left to take command of the mine’s defense, though I tagged him with True Sight as a precaution. Above us were specters of gray scrambling about the camp. This news was either highly convenient for me, or highly inconvenient, as my companions were assaulting the lode mine without me to support them. I had faith in the Sheriff and his now armed deputies, but Applejack’s safety still weighed on my mind. There was a real chance that she could perish in the ongoing firefight, and a lot more than her life would expire with her. But I knew that the girl had a good head on her shoulders, and wouldn’t charge recklessly into danger like her foolhardy cousin.
Strongheart was emboldened by the arrival of her saviors, “As you can see, Mister Flam, justice catches up with you no matter what hole you crawl into”
Flam backhanded her by way of response, “Shut your mouth, you native tramp! You’ve got another thing coming if you think you’re getting out of this alive”
“They’ll find no trace of you once I’ve fed you to the grinder” He leered as he picked up a scalpel from the torture sheet and calmly made to slit her throat. Strongheart fearfully tried to withdraw from the blade, but being tied to a chair made that endeavor nigh impossible.
I chose that moment to de-cloak and stealthily creep up on Flam, quietly unsheathing my Tantō in the usual reverse grip. Strongheart somehow noticed me in her periphery and her diverted stare enticed Flam to follow her gaze, only to come face to chest with a very displeased me. His reaction time was swifter than I would have credited the conman for, but was as slow as molasses to a seasoned Trifect like myself. I seized his scalpel wielding arm and broke it by pushing his elbow well past its normal degree of articulation with a strike from the pommel of my Tantō. I simultaneously kicked in his left knee to immobilize him. Flam shrieked in pain and dropped his surgical tool, clutching helplessly at his injured arm as he sank to the floor.
“W-who the hell are you!? How’d you g-get in here?” He whimpered in question, all of his previous bravado from beating on tied up women thoroughly evaporated.
“Magic” I sneered at him, before tending to Strongheart, using my Tantō to sever the ropes keeping her in bondage.
To my faint shock, she hugged me tightly, “Zenith! It gladdens my heart that you’ve come for me” She detached from me and gandered about the room, as if she was searching for someone else, “Where is my love? Did not Braeburn accompany you?”
The native girl wasn’t in pristine shape. She had ugly welts and weals all over her skin, and one of her eyes was bruised from Flam’s not so tender ministrations, angering me. These injuries did not deter her spirit in any way though, which was heartening to see. Braeburn found himself a tough lover in this one.
“Umm…” I eloquently vocalized, “He’s indisposed, I’m afraid. Some of the outlaws from this mine rode into town and challenged us to a showdown, making a point of insulting your honor to goad Braeburn and I into accepting. He uh… took a round during the fighting,” Quite stupidly I’d add, but I would leave that out, “though we won handily”
Strongheart was distraught by this, like any caring lover, “He is hurt? I have to see him now! We are pledged to another!”
I laid a hand on her shoulder, “Peace, Strongheart” I calmed her, “I left him in the capable hands of one of Appleloosa’s Docs. He’ll be right as rain before you know it”
I didn’t fail to observe that Flam was attempting to crawl towards the door during our exchange. I walked over to him and pressed down on his spine with my boot, eliciting a disappointed wheeze.
“And just where do you think you’re going, Flam?” I inquired rhetorically as I flipped him over, “We have unfinished business to settle”
“What do you want from me?” He squawked as my knee crushed his chest like a lead weight, “I’m innocent, I swear! Those filthy outlaws put me up to it!”
I scoffed, “Right. They held you at gunpoint and forced you to become the Boss of one of the most lucrative gold mines I have ever seen. You’re plainly a victim of circumstance in all of this” Even Twilight would cringe from the amount of sarcasm saturating my words now.
“Alright, alright!” He changed his tune, “Maybe I’m not so innocent. But please don’t kill me! I can tell you things, things that would be of great interest to you!”
He was in no position to ransom his life for information, but that wouldn’t stop me from letting him think that, “And what would that be?”
“You like making a tidy profit don’t you? Call off your pals outside and I can get you all shares of this place! You’d never be short of coin for the rest of your lives!” He appealed to my sense of greed.
I had no interest in money, “You are not making a convincing case for yourself, Flam” I warned him in a chilling tone, my Tantō now hovering over one of his jugular veins.
“AAH!” My icy inflection caused him to wet himself, and the stink of urine tainted the air of the enclosed space, “Oh… OH, my brother Flim! He’s in contact with the people who employed us! He can set up a meeting with their representatives for you. I haven’t met them personally, but they’re really powerful. Got their hands in a lot of cookie jars, if you catch my meaning. They’re people that go getters like youself could benefit from. That’s all I’ve got!”
This was sufficient for me. I eased up on him and allowed him to suck in deep breaths as the conman struggled to get some oxygen into his compacted lungs. Strongheart glowered at this man from over my shoulder. But she respected my authority, and made no moves on him as I stood and retrieved the tomahawk from the torture tray. I could now see in the light that the native woman had bruising on her cheeks and brow from repeated blows from a blunt object, courtesy of Flam. There was an opportunity here for me to tie up loose ends while also concurrently testing somebody’s character while they were under emotional stress.
“I sense a potent enmity between you and Mister Flam here” I remarked, adroitly flipping the weapon in the air insouciantly before handing it to her, “I think you should bury the hatchet… in his skull” I amended in deadpan.
Her eyes widened as she processed what I had imparted to her. She looked blankly at the weapon in her hands, one that had likely been pried from the dead fingers of one of her kin as they fought to defend their village against the men who had kidnapped her people and held them in mindless slavery, and the perpetrator of it was within killing range. I couldn’t blame her for giving this serious thought as she gripped the handle with an audible creaking sound.
“W-what!?” Flam exclaimed, “But I told you everything I know! You can’t kill me!” He protested weakly, utterly at my (or rather Strongheart’s) mercy.
Based on his unconscious facial muscle twitches and other telltale signs, I could see that he was not being truthful, especially about the grinder he threatened to feed Strongheart to minutes ago. I ordinarily would have seized the information from his mind, but I generally did not initiate such an invasive procedure like that with trusting witnesses present.
“Strongheart here represents the primarily wronged party of the Buffalo Braves that you subjugated for slave labor, and so her sentencing of you is quite frankly… out of my hands” I clinically informed him in my best heartless lawyer’s tone.
Strongheart loomed over him, “I want to end his life for what he did to us… but is this the way I should conduct myself? Exacting bloody vengeance on those who would wrong my people and I? Does that not beget further bloodshed?” She was conflicted on the inside, and she wore that turmoil openly.
“You said it yourself, Strongheart. Your people respect leaders who have wet their hands with blood, and this money grubbing scumbag couldn’t care one whit about you and yours, and he still doesn’t I bet. Is mercy what this man really deserves from you?” I posited to her.
“To take a life leaves an indelible mark upon one’s soul that only the divine can remove” Strongheart pensively waxed her philosophy, “If I do this… it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I could not face my beloved Braeburn knowing that I murdered a defenseless man, regardless of how black his sins were” She slammed the tomahawk into the wood beside Flam’s head, eliciting another high pitched shriek out of him and making him curl instinctively into a fetal position.
“I will await you outside” She uttered, her conscious clean, “My people must be freed. Do as you will with him”
Outwardly my face was stony, but secretly I was pleased that Strongheart was of superior moral character than a vindictive killer like myself. She’ll make a good wife for Applejack’s cousin, and a wonderful mother for his children as well. I’d have to ensure that she makes it back to him in one piece.
Her honorable character still left me with a loose end, however.
“Flam Skam” I began, surprising the man with my knowledge of his full name, “You stand accused of the heinous crimes of slavery, assault of the Chieftain’s daughter, and conspiracy to levy warfare between Arcanian settlers and Buffalo Brave natives; which is an act of treason as you are an Arcanian citizen yourself. As an Agent of their Majesties’ Government and witness to all three crimes, I am vested with the authority of judge, jury, and executioner… and I find you guilty of these acts. The penalty is death. The sentence will be carried out shortly.” My voice was without emotion as I recited this, “Any last words?”
A variety of emotions flashed across the rapacious man’s face, ranging from shock that a Royal Agent had exposed him right under his nose, the intense terror succeeding that realization, and a desperate fury that he was about to die for his crimes against humanity.
“You don’t know who you’re crossing!” Flam spat rabidly, “By killing me and ruining this bountiful arrangement, you’ll incur my employers’ wrath!”
“I look forward to meeting these mysterious and enigmatic employers’ of yours” I encapsulated his throat with my magic and with an abrupt twist of my hand, engendered a cervical fracture, thus snapping his neck and terminating him. The deceased man’s head thunked against the floorboards and he was still, lifeless. I departed the room soon afterwards. My job here was not done.
I met Strongheart in the hallway outside Flam’s underground office. She was unarmed, so I would have to be her guardian as I escorted her through the hollowed out caverns of the mining complex.
“What was Flam’s fate?” The woman inquired as I exited.
“You should forget about him” I dismissed her, “He is of no issue anymore”
“I see then” She bowed her head, murmuring something in her native tongue that sounded almost like a prayer (though for whom remained unsolved), “I did not see this facility extensively when they brought me here, but I overheard plenty, and I know that my brethren who are not active are kept penned on the lower levels”
“How many are down there, you reckon?” I asked her, aware that some of the country lingo was rubbing off on me.
“Hundreds of my people were taken from their homes” She replied, “And each of them were condemned to this place to labor and sweat until they were no longer of use, then they were tossed aside”
Worse than that, I believed, “Flam mentioned a grinder. What do you know of that?”
She shook her head, “Nothing. But its ominous label fills me with unease. What else have these wretched men done to my kin?” She muttered the last part to herself.
Strongheart refocused on the mission, “We must find my people, but I do not know how we are to safely navigate this place, or free them”
I was then struck with inspiration, “Let me take care of the first problem, then we concern ourselves with the second”
I concentrated as I cast a new spell that sent out an arcane ‘ping’ that echoed throughout the entirety of the mine, the information returning to my mind’s eye as three dimensional images of reddish light that were transparent, like a holographic map. It was like a bat’s sonar like screech in a way; only what I was employing did not utilize pulses of ultrasonic sound waves to echolocate. I rotated and ostensibly glanced at my feet, while what I was really seeing was a gaggle of sitting natives huddled together in three adjacent chambers that must’ve been reconverted when the gold extraction there went dry. My arcane sonar spell also notified me of where there were outlaws posted to defend the mine’s guts from attackers. I visualized a route we could take that would take that would bypass the majority of them, but there were still a trio of outlaws standing sentry by the slave pens. I’d have to dispatch them with Dee-Dee if I couldn’t talk them into submission, and that would have the other outlaws on us immediately.
“I know where to go” I apprised Strongheart, who seemed in awe of my abilities.
“Then lead, my friend,” She dropped the dreaded F-bomb, “and I shall follow”
I did so, walking to and descending the stairs of the square timber corridors while frequently sending out additional pings when the extrasensory effect wore off. With the aid of my innovative spell, we avoided or hid from patrols of outlaws as they roamed the halls, taking shelter in unlit storage rooms (one of which had a box of dynamite sticks, which I borrowed a few from) and even in an unladen mine cart in one case. The going was sluggish, and while I was gladdened that the tagged outlaws above us were in moderate disarray from my brave companions’ raid, they were beginning to get their act in order from Chief Prospector Pyrite’s directions.
Soon we were on the lowest levels and that trio of guards I spotted earlier was ahead. I motioned for the oddly stealthy Strongheart to stay put while I conversed with them. Given my clothing, they would probably assume that I was another new blood sick and tired of measly pay on someone else’s ranch or farm and hungry for the gold that was so abundant in this canyon. They raised their weapons as I approached and for a second I was worried that I would have to roll to the side to dodge before they hesitated and lowered their guns a tad.
“Who the heck are you? And why are ya down here?” The rightmost of them interrogated me.
‘Time to see if my speech skill is up to snuff’ I wordlessly opined.
“Chief Prospector Pyrite sent me!” I pretended to be frantic, like Thorpe’s turncoat ranch hand was when he reported the attack, “Our guys are gettin’ picked off like flies out there! He needs every gun he can get!” I subverted my rule about imitating accents there weren’t mine for the sake of detail.
“I don’t recognize ya” The middlemost one scrutinized me, his finger still on the trigger of his aged flintlock, “And I was present for the latest batch of raw recruits a week ago”
“I started today” I ‘admitted’ shyly, “Ah’m supposed to be a replacement for one of the guys that was lost in the raid on the savages’ main village?”
For a moment it looked like the middle man (heh) wasn’t buying my story, but then the one outlaw who hadn’t spoken came to my aid, “The tall feller is tellin’ it true, Knuckle Dragger. The Boss was lookin’ to replenish our culling crews after the disaster with the main village”
Knuckle Dragger frowned, but holstered his gun.
“Well, what are ya waitin’ for? Hearth’s Warming Day? Get up there!” I motioned with a thumb to my rear, “I’ll re-secure the livestock like Mister Pyrite instructed me ta. Those bastards won’t deprive me of no money makin’ creatures, no siree!”
My minor gambit paid off. The men were convinced that they were needed elsewhere and brushed past me. As they did so, I inconspicuously unsheathed the throwing knives I had transferred from my robes to one of the many pockets of my duster. I zeroed in on critical points on the outlaw’s vulnerable necks and magically guided my knives into them. The trio of outlaws let our strangled screams as their spinal cords were severed at vital junctions. They would slowly suffocate from those wounds, since their breathing functions were now impaired and their blood pressure would suffer a profound drop from the spinal shock. The three men slumped to the ground as they fruitlessly fought to get to their feet. Their movements became strained before ceasing altogether as they gave up the ghost.
Strongheart emerged from hiding when I gave an ‘all clear’ whistle, “I cannot say I approve of your ghastly methods, Zenith. But I would rather witness their deaths over my own, as they would have surely seen me had you let them go”
I magically recalled my throwing knives and wiped them clean, “I apologize. I don’t often make for G-rated company. Not with what’s expected of me” I relieved the dead men of their guns and offered one of them to Strongheart, who to my frustration rejected it.
“Brandishing a weapon that has been used against my people to such a horrific degree would not sit well with me” She excused.
“Suit yourself” I shrugged, stowing the pistols in my duster, “You and Applejack have a lot in common over that subject it seems” She was pensive after that statement, thinking about her beau’s cousin.
I ambled over to the metal gate and examined the deadbolt lock keeping the sturdy door from being opened. I could have pried it apart with my magic (or failing that, blow the door off its hinges with sheer force), but that would create unnecessary noise from the snap of steel being sheared and that would have attracted the guards, who were only a floor above us. No, I would go for a more refined method of undoing this lock. I did not posses the key, but I needed only to analyze the locking mechanism and alter it from there. I scanned the lock with magic and determined that it was a basic pins and tumbler breed of lock. I used two physical manifestations of magic to insert into the lock (a tension wrench and a pick respectively) in place of a key and aligned the gaps between the pins until the shear line was formed and I could retract the deadbolt inwards.
What was unveiled to me when the door swung wide would’ve been haunting for me had I not been so damn jaded. The light from the lanterns where we were standing flooded into the pitch black room to reveal a chamber brimming with milky eyed slaves (they were like lifeless versions of the Shaman’s eyes, now that I reflected on it) who reacted to our presence like a dog whose master had come home, only without the tail wagging and slobber. Before we showed up, the Buffalo Braves were all sitting clustered together with their arms over their knees, as though they were deactivated robots awaiting their next task. Whatever this gruel was that the outlaws were feeding them, it deprived a person of their humanity after too long spent ingesting it. It wasn’t nutritious either, since most of these people were emaciated and the stench of sickness was heavy in the humid air. I could only pray that after we liberated these people, they could regain their former selves.
Strongheart cursed in her native tongue and rushed forward to the nearest native, a woman about her age. She spoke to her in that same language and held her tightly, as though she were her own sister. The native woman remained unresponsive though, save for uttering a phrase that had Strongheart alarmed.
“What did she say?” I asked her.
“She is wondering why I am not serving the masters” She replied, “Come, come with us. Your toils are at an end!” She urged her fellow native, who did not listen, but stayed focused on me.
‘She thinks I’m one of the masters’ I noted. This could come in handy.
“Listen up you greasy savages!” I spoke loud enough to be heard by the entire congregation, but wouldn’t be heard by the guards.
“What are you doing!?” Strongheart whisper-yelled at me, anger in her eyes for my hurtful labeling.
“Trust me on this one” I reassured her.
She frowned, but obeyed, allowing me to resume.
“You see this woman here?” I motioned to Strongheart, “She’s gonna be mah assistant for today. You will pay heed to her directions as if they came straight from mah mouth” To solidify her position to the brainwashed natives, I placed my hat (of authoritah) on her head, “If any of y’all disobey her. I’ll whip ya so hard it’ll be as if I flayed ya alive!”
Like magic, the room’s focus turned to Strongheart, who looked vaguely uncomfortable to have so many soulless gazes fixed on her. While she was distracted with the leadership role I had foisted upon her, I slipped away to pick the locks of the other two gated chambers, repeating my instructions to the people held inside. Soon we had dozens upon dozens of native women, teens, and children filing out into the corridor. I was concerned that they would make too much noise, but their footsteps were as muted as their demeanor. There were no worried mumblings, nor cries of frightened children. Their ridiculously brainwashed states could actually prove stealthy if nothing else.
The emptied chambers that they left behind them still had big, covered clay urns in the center. I lifted the lid on one and automatically recoiled at the overpowering odor emanating from the contents within. Based on the dirtied plates and spoons scattered nearby the urn, I could deduce that the outlaws let the natives feed themselves the gruel. Inside the urn was a greyish goo that was closer to watery sludge than edible gruel. I did require a sample of the foul concoction to figure out what made it so soul sucking to consume, but lacked a Ziploc baggie to seal it in. I improvised with a roll of wax paper that was used to keep the dynamite sticks dry, taking a spoonful of the gruel and dabbing it onto the wax paper, which I then rolled up and pocketed for later.
I saw a crowded Strongheart waving me over and obliged her, “My people are free, but how do we get them past the guards?” She inquired once I was close.
“Again, you let me handle that. I’ll sweep each floor and notify you when it’s safe to bring everybody topside” I spared her the details of the blood I’d have to spill in order to accomplish that.
She nodded, but then she stared at me strangely, “Zenith… where is your Focal Gem?”
‘I should have remembered to put on my fake rhinestone bindi’ I chastised myself.
I raised an eyebrow, “You know about those?”
She sent me an exasperated mien, “I met Applejack’s friends. Rarity and Twilight are their names if I recall correctly? I pestered them about the gemstones adorning their foreheads and they explained what they were, as well as their purpose. I’m so used to Agrarian Arcanians that I often forget that there are two other clan types they share this land with” Her eyes narrowed, “So how is it that you can cast magic without one?”
“The truth is Strongheart…” I willed my irises to flash crimson for her, “…there’s more to me than meets the eye” I then inspected the silent congregation, “Look alive, folks” I jested, not really expecting this command to be met.
I departed from the flustered native woman and climbed the ladder going up a level. I ‘pinged’ it and discerned the whereabouts of the guards standing in the way of Strongheart’s people and freedom. The corridors of these square set timbered hallways were tricky sometimes, usually terminating in odd ways or having walls where they were superfluous, so I’d have to hunt my prey very carefully. Though between my stealth capabilities and penchant for dispatching my human foes, this would be as procedural as baking a cake… a bloody cake anyhow. I tested the hidden blades I had chosen to keep on me by flicking my wrists forwards, feeling gutsy when they sprang forth as always.
I grinned to myself, ‘Oh yes, this is part of what I do best’
I cast my stealth spells and went about my bloody business, prowling the dim corridors like a vengeful poltergeist, slaughtering unsuspecting outlaws while their backs were turned. I had no qualms with literally backstabbing them, as they had sold their figurative brothers into slavery and even aided in spreading wanton conflict because of it. This made them traitors to almost everything that Arcania stood for, and there was a steep price to pay for betraying one’s nation. Even if I didn’t kill them, their crime’s severity ensured that they would only see the outside world through a series of enchanted metal bars. I wouldn’t abide the small chance that they could be granted parole only to revert back to their old habits and do something like this on a second occasion. As a general rule, I valued the sacredness of life. But I also had no qualms with taking it from those who squandered theirs and invited suffering upon others with their poor choices.
Disregarding my personal sentiments on the matter, I retained a professional methodology for emptying the mine of outlaw riff-raff. I would slay all the guards on one level, give the all clear signal to Strongheart, and then get to work on the next floor while she herded her impassive people like a shepherd. A tiny portion of my mind reminded me how this was similar to a video game in that fashion, although the rest of me was rather preoccupied with puncturing hearts, perforating lungs, and cracking skulls. I was proud that I was able to defeat my foes without them discharging their weapons and alerting their friends that they were being hunted, albeit my anatomical precision may have been responsible for that. It’s hard for the mental command to squeeze the trigger to be sent when your spinal cord was sundered.
While I was having success in the mines, my companions were not so fortunate. The specters of outlaws moving between buildings for cover as they fired upwards at unseen targets was not lost on me. A few of their numbers were occasionally hit by a lucky shot and they were forced to withdraw from the furious action, but there were plenty other outlaws to take their place. My outnumbered companions needed me to turn the tide of combat, but that would dictate that Strongheart and her people remained behind in the mines that had served as the former’s prison and the latter’s unpaid workplace for God knows how long. Strongheart possessed the capacity for reason and would understand this rationally from my viewpoint, but emotionally she would want her people out of here in spite of whom they might come across when they did.
Speaking of which, there she was.
“Zenith?” She began, “Are our obstructions… removed?” She euphemistically put.
“They are” I confirmed after a quick ping of the mines, “But I must request that you and your people linger here until I can guarantee their safety on the surface”
She seemed like she was about to protest, but then she realized an important detail, “There are a surplus of outlaws outside, aren’t there?”
I hummed, “Indeed, and though my companions are battling them right now, they are far fewer in number and are at risk of being overwhelmed”
“You came all this way and didn’t bring the manpower to sufficiently liberate us?” She shook her head, “I apologize if I sound like I am denouncing you, but it is a legitimate concern of mine”
“What did you assume? That I was going to find volunteers in Appleloosa to rescue Buffalo Braves? The same ones that they perceived were attacking them?” I retorted dryly, “It was tiring enough to convince the Sheriff and his Deputies to accompany us, and that’s because these outlaws have caused trouble for the law around here too. Rescuing your people is simply a bonus for me and an excuse for them to shoot guns like trigger crazy morons”
“Point taken” She conceded, “But how can you alone hope to prevail?”
“I’m not alone” I unholstered my gun, “I have this, and I have them, remember?”
“I can see that my people and I have little choice in this,” She groused, “very well then. But do try to stay alive, Zenith, for our lives depend on your continued survival”
“No need to remind me” I said in a tone thicker with solemnity than I meant to project, fully aware of how vital my survival was to the world at large.
She hugged me again, “You have the heart of a warrior, Zenith, and the compassion of a Chieftain. You have not led us astray thus far. I have the utmost of faith in your competency” She affirmed bookishly, all of that literature she read while at Jubilee’s having permanently ingrained itself into her vocabulary.
Her kind words inspired me with courage, “I’ll try not to disappoint” I wisecracked, sarcasm being my trusty sword and shield as a Snark Knight, “Wait here until I return… and I will return, got that?”
After agreeing to hang around until they were outright emancipated, Strongheart retreated back into the darkness to tend to the spiritless gaggles of her kin, who were basically immobile without firm instructions from those they perceived as their masters. I went in the opposite direction, towards the light. The intermittent crack of musket and pistol shot tinged the ambience as I drew near one of the mine entrances, and I heard men shouting at each other to do various things like provide covering fire or wait until their comrades could move up. My eyes readjusted to the brightness of the outside after spending ten minutes or so down in the mines, and when the glare faded I witnessed a scene that was like it was out of a cowboy film (But in very slow motion as far as gunplay went).
The outlaws were condensed in the middle, where their storehouses were concentrated. The men at the forefront of the fighting were trading shots at each other before ducking behind shelter. That blockhouse building I had infiltrated before was where my companions were currently duking it out with their enemies. Given how Shooting Star and Lone Star preferred pistols, it made sense that they would be the ones confronting the outlaws at ground level. I couldn’t see the Sheriff and Clinky at first, but based on the reports coming from up high, they were somewhere above us, sniping with their muskets at outlaws below from either side of the canyon. The Sheriff was on the left side while Clinky expertly camouflaged himself on the right. I was impressed, as this gave them a form of crisscrossing lines of sight over the canyon. The Sheriff and his deputy had unwittingly pioneered the force protection tactic of Overwatch in this world.
Opportunistically, the Sheriff and Clinky Keys cleansed the scaffolding of outlaws, as the last one still present on the suspended planks fell to his death after a bullet found a home in his lungs. The suppressive effect of having two snipers taking potshots at them had a serious scare factor effect on the outlaws, who had never faced opponents that could reciprocate fire at them before. Somehow my outnumbered law-keeping companions were holding their own against the men they came to bring to justice. I wasn’t positive that diplomatic solutions were tried, but I tended to favor aggressive negotiations myself. Such favorable circumstances could not last forever though, as I could hear Pyrite angrily coordinating his men to get their rears in gear and repulse the lawmen.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the enslaved natives in the canyon were no more responsive to gunfire stimuli than they were to physical contact, as the majority of them kept working, as if this was a normal everyday occurrence. True to his word, Pyrite had many of his men using the Buffalo Braves as body blocks to the snipers’ bullets, and my companions did not lack for humaneness, and therefore did not risk those shots. Gradually, the scar-lipped Chief Prospector’s stern and rather questionable (to the extent that his tactics went) leadership was rousing the outlaws to operate in sync. They shot at the figurative rooftop snipers so they would have to keep their heads down while their comrades advanced un-harried on the blockhouse building where the nearest threats to them were. There were about a dozen or so of these outlaws presently within spitting range of that structure, which was already showing signs of damage from all the gunplay. The windows were shattered and I could see my companions shoot and scoot between them on the ground floor while their adversaries were reloading.
Shooting Star’s semi rapid firing pistol and impeccable aim fell two out of three men advancing on the doorway of the blockhouse building. The third tried to breach the door by kicking it in, only to receive a face full of lead from Lone Star as he did so, who I assumed was prudently watching it. I wasn’t certain how the two of them had fought their way into the fortified building, but they were mounting an effective defense from there. I wondered where my gun-shy friend Applejack was in all of this, but had no time to contemplate the possibilities before I was sucked into the gun battle myself.
“Hey, idiot!” A passing outlaw that I recognized as the prurient one who was playing cards called out to me, “Don’t jus’ stand there! Help us kill th-” He paused as he recognized me in turn.
Dee-Dee was out and cocked before the man so much as twitched with his gun hand. I fired from the hip and a high velocity .44 round (the whole slug, that is) slammed into the man’s shoulder, imbued with enough kinetic energy that it tore his arm clean off (‘Oh, Discord. This gift of his just keeps on gibbing’). He clutched at his bloody stump as he wordlessly fell backwards onto the dirt. It didn’t kill him instantly, but the blood loss from a grievous wound like that would in minutes. Unfortunately, the roar of my Magnum had attracted attention, and I holstered it before sprinting towards the blockhouse where I knew my allies were. My leaping over wooden crates, sliding under wagons, and other evasive maneuvers did not spare me from being a bullet magnet as I felt several tugs at my duster, as if someone were violently pinching at it before suddenly letting go. One round whizzed right past my ear and I could feel the pressure waves accompany it.
Open ranged gunfights were one of the few things that could make me anxious. It wasn’t as procedural as melee combat, where one could measure their opponent and anticipate their moves and counteract them in a morbidly beautiful dance of death. No, guns weren’t quite as elegant as my blade (‘Now, I’m thinking like Obi-Wan’). Each bullet that went flying my way was a randomized chance that one bastard might be accurate or otherwise luck out on hitting me, and the simulated, searing pain I felt in Discord’s ‘week length’ dream training was fresh in my memories for me. Still, my ‘luck’ must’ve held out, because I reached the demolished door of the outpost building relatively unscathed. I would apologize to Big Mac over the damaged state of his duster later… or I would have Rarity repair the garment and pretend it never happened. I never did like fessing up to my mistakes.
“Whoa, whoa!” I immediately exclaimed as Lone Star jammed a pistol in my face from the door side, “Guys, it’s me” I held my hands up as a symbol of peacefulness.
“Zenith!?” The man let out a relieved sigh and lowered his weapon, “Where’d yer hat go?” He asked, concerned over the state of my headwear, “Don’ tell me those outlaws shot it off! That is an unforgivable act right there!”
“My hat is fine. I gave it to someone I trust” I brushed the longer strands of my sweat matted hair over my forehead so that they wouldn’t notice the same lack of Focal Gem that Strongheart did, “I see you got my directions?”
“We took a while searchin’ for ‘em, since ya made ‘em challengin’ to spot. But overall it wasn’t too exhaustin’ findin’ this horrid place” Lone Star shuddered, “What I don’t understand is why the slaves aren’t usin’ this opportunity to revolt! We’re their saviors for cryin’ out loud!”
“Don’t blame the slaves” I chided him, “These outlaws have been feeding them some kind of gruel that somehow decreases their independent functioning and increases their reliance on a perceived master figure, namely the outlaws” I idly pondered if Zecora’s knowledge of herbology and insight into some of the crazier plant ingredients in the Neverfree could do this.
“That’s dastardly!” Lone Star railed, “And on top of it they’re resistin’ arrest!” He added indignantly, as if that sign of defiance was all that mattered. I forgot how strange some people’s priorities were in this world.
I used the lull (a relative term, since guns were being shot periodically at our comrades up top) to take in my surroundings, which was occasionally broken by some blockhead shooting though the back windows aspiring to hit one of us. All that was missing to make this a true Western shootout scene were the obscene ricochet sound effects. The embattled building wasn’t as organized as it was when I had left it with the Prospector. Everywhere there were tables that were overturned, playing cards scattered onto the floorboards, and alcohol bottles smashed into a million fragments. There were a few bodies too, and their positions oriented towards the door gave me the idea that they were facing somebody down before they bit the dust. Bullet holes adorned the walls, displaying hardwood fibers frayed from the points of impact. I glanced over at Shooting Star, and saw that he was favoring his right arm (which was the one he equipped his Volcanic pistol with), while his left was held folded towards his chest. Other than the injury to that arm, he seemed to be in acceptable shape, same as his brother. There was something missing though… or should I say someone?
“Where is Applejack?” I deadpanned.
Lone Star head pivoted around him and his eyes widened, “Erm… I could’ave sworn she was with us jus’ a moment ago”
“And how long ago was just a moment?” I grilled him, not pleased with this development.
“Well… erh… ya see…” Lone Star pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes to hide his embarrassment, “We kinda lost track of time. What with all of the outlaws we’ve been trading bullets with. I recall that she was with us when we came in here an’ demanded that these lawbreakers surrender… then they got out of their chairs an’ started shootin’. Some of ‘em ran to get the others. Then all hell broke loose and… she simply slipped away from us?”
I pinched at my nose to halt an oncoming headache. It was a hackneyed excuse if ever I heard one, but I couldn’t be too mad with them. Applejack had a tendency of doing things her own way when left to her own devices, and the chaos of flintlocks discharging their rounds along with massive puffs of foul smelling smoke would make it effortless for her to vanish unseen. She was out there in the valley, immersing herself in the fight where she could function optimally. How she would do this nonlethally without being killed was beyond my meager scope of comprehension. I’d leave that idealistic philosophic approach to Batman. I didn’t have the manpower to scour the valley and bring her into the fold, but I’d be damned if I’d let that stop me.
Speaking of which, “Whose idea was it to split the group?” At his blank look I reiterated, “You know. The Sheriff and Clinky firing on the outlaws from the high ground?”
“Ya told the Sheriff to proceed as he willed didn’t ya? It was his idea to use the rifles to provide us with coverin’ fire while we swept through the canyon” Lone Star explained, “Didn’t expect there to be so many of ‘em though” He expressed ruefully.
Lone Star peered over our bullet riddled cover, “There’s gotta be three dozen of ‘em at the least to support such a fancy operation in this here canyon, and you can bet that they’re waitin’ fer us somewhere in that mess of buildin’s and obstacles. The second they bunch up in mass, they’ll come down on us hard”
That was ill news. After Tumbledown and my first firearm kill in this canyon, I had less than thirty cartridges of ammunition. Not only would have to make every shot count, I’d have to rely on my allies to fell the rest. I prepared a slew of self augmenting spells designed to guarantee the former condition. I chewed myself out for not remembering to replenish my ammo before going to sleep the previous night; all of that storytelling had a toll on my mental checklist. The spells were mostly identical to the ones I used in my first showdown, like giving my eyesight a crosshair aligned with the barrel of my revolver. The new modifications incorporated muscle memory that would enable me to score headshots on tagged enemies if they were in my light of sight. It was an analog to the Deadeye ability from my favorite Western video game, I suppose. If I combined this with my sonar scanning spell, I’d be a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield to be positive. In other words… I would be OP as hell… although that would only be the case as long as I kept my gun fed with bullets.
I shrugged, “We’ll just have to shoot harder than them” I declared nonchalantly, dispensing with the witty repartee. This task wouldn’t be as insurmountable as I feared it might be after all.
“Ya certainly don’ lack for confidence, do ya Mister Zenith?” He chuckled.
“Face down the odds that I have, and guys like these are a metaphorical walk in the park” I expressed airily, “You ready for some action?” I was all but oozing self assurance as I spun Dee-Dee in my grasp.
He held up his gun by his face before smirking cheekily, “Always. You have a plan?”
“Sure do. We’re outnumbered, to be sure, but we also have the Sheriff and Clink providing covering fire from up high. However, they can’t be used to their full effectiveness while the outlaws are able to button them in with returning fire, so we have to disrupt their ability to do that” I elucidated.
“We seize the initiative?” Shooting Star approved of this plan, “Y’all need me ta keep a rein on them while ya do it?” The young deputy offered, loading bullet capsules into his weapon and flip cocking it.
“Eeyup!” I pushed the cylinder of my gun until I had access to the chamber, manually grabbing a bullet from my belt and inserting it into the hole where its brother once slept. My ears discerned Shooting Star berating himself under his breath, “A revolvin’ chamber? Why didn’t ah think of that?”
I crouch scrambled over to a window, “Now on three, we vault over and take the fight to them” I began counting, “One. Two. Three!”
‘Let’s get this party started’ I thought, my blood running in adrenaline fueled torrents through my veins as I leapt out the window.
Shooting Star snapped off a trio of rounds that kept the outlaws poking their heads over their cover pinned while his brother and I rushed them. The outlaws taking positions behind crates of smelted gold and the carts to wheel those crates away were blindsided by our unexpected charge, but recovered accordingly as they took aim. Dee-Dee was leveled at them and barked five times. Each round hit home and those men had departed from this mortal coil before their bodies touched the ground. There was another outlaw in the middle of climbing the scaffolding to get a superior vantage point over the outpost building. The last round in the chamber showed him why that was a bad idea as he plummeted to the earth with a howl, a fist sized hole blown in his stomach. I offhandedly observed that the extreme velocity of my bullets translated into small entry wounds, and incredibly gory exit wounds.
That same velocity meant that I also didn’t have to give any lead on my shots as I fixated on a quartet of men running parallel to us as I reloaded my gun. I engaged my Deadeye spell, pulled the trigger once, and fanned the hammer three times. My steady hand and the compensator on the barrel managed the recoil as my muscles automatically adjusted for the follow up shots. They plowed into the sandy ground as my bullets hit center mass and I heard a general cry of retreat from the remnants of the advanced guard. Lone Star dropped another one who was running and crouched behind a crate to begin the tedious process of reloading a flintlock pistol with gunpowder, cotton wad, ball, and ramrod. I didn’t want the outlaws to regroup merely because I waited for my ally to get in the fight again, but I wasn’t about to abandon him either.
I grabbed him by the arm and hefted him to his feet, “C’mon! We should strike while the iron is still hot!”
“What about mah brother?” He gasped, “We should wait up fer him”
I glanced behind us to see his brother limping out of the blockhouse door and towards us. Apparently he had been nailed in the thigh as well as his arm. I growled in frustration but kept my cool. These men wanted to bring the outlaws to justice as much as I did. Depriving them of the chance to do that would reflect poorly on me as an Agent of this Kingdom and as the unspoken leader of this illegal mining and slave labor ‘crackdown’.
“You know we’ve only bought ourselves a minute or so of respite, right?” I informed the man in my grip, “The next time we make a ballsy move like that, they’re going to be ready for us”
“With that weapon of yers!?” He motioned to Dee-Dee, “I’d say they’re livin’ on borrowed time!”
“I only have so many bullets on me” I exhaled, “And I don’t have an exact estimate of their numbers, so I’ll be counting on your aim to be impeccable”
“Mah brother would often let me practice with his gun” Lone Star let me in on a smidge of his family history, “Got an aim almost half as good as him”
I was about to reply to his boast when an opportunistic outlaw with a musket did it for me. A wooden lantern post next to us was chunked as the leaden ball slammed into it, pulping the material and showering us with splinters. I was facing my back to it, so the durable fabric of my duster absorbed the majority of the shrapnel, but I did hear Lone Star curse in surprise. I hefted him by his collar out of the line of fire and into cover. I utilized the sonar spell (which is not as effectual in open aired environments as it is in enclosed spaces, but workable) and discovered the culprit camping on the roof of one of the storage buildings like the sneaky little bastard that he was. I leaned to the side to take a gander at him, only to jerk it away when another round missed me by centimeters. He had multiple rifles with him, and with his pals behind him suppressing our Overwatch, I’d have to deal with this one personally.
“I saw everythin’!” Shooting Star wheezed as he ducked in beside us, “How can we get past him without eatin’ one of his shots?”
“There is no ‘we’ for this one” I informed him as I reloaded, “I’ve got this”
He seemed doubtful, “Ya sure?”
I flicked the cylinder shut, “I am. Just be ready to move on up once he’s dealt with. We still have to deal with the reserve forces in the rear along with their Scarlipped leader”
They nodded their compliance and waited patiently while I crept around to sneak up on our sniper. I supposed I could have stealthed myself for it, but with all the excitement going on the thought never occurred to me. I crouched low and duck walked to my target, employing sluice gated tubs and boxes stuffed with mining equipment to mask my approach. The natives had vacated this tip of the mining premises, which was fortunate, as they could have easily gotten caught in the crossfire and perished. I finally arrived at the building where the sniper was currently taking guess shots at the spot where Lone Star and his brother were hunkered down. I noiselessly climbed onto the roof and tapped the man on the shoulder. He spun around and his eyes became the size of dinner plates as I sunk a hidden blade into his throat. Blood welled up from the wound and he began to choke on it as he struggled to breathe. I belatedly recognized his face as that of the ranch hand that Tagalong Thorpe had lost to this place.
Some part of me that retained a sense of humanity felt pity for this man, as his death would not be mercifully brief, but my vindictive side reminded it that these men were slavers, and slavers would get no mercy from me. These opinions and beliefs warred inside me as my gaze bored into his. The young man’s eyes were alight with fear, and even regret that it was all over for him. That ‘after colliding with the deer in the headlights’ look got to me and I ended his suffering by caving his face in with my fist, his skull collapsing with a meaty crunch.
It was a decidedly messy way to show leniency, but it was better than nothing. I wiped the crimson gore of my hand on his clothes and appropriated a musket from his stock that he had piled abreast of him. The model was almost an exact replica of the Charleville Musket (which I also learned of from watching military documentaries), having a lengthy barrel, an ornate metal flint striker, and a dark ligneous polish. Its practical range was about fifty or so yards, but the accuracy (or notorious lack of accuracy rather) of unrifled guns like muskets meant that it deviated severely even within those ranges, not mention exceeding those ranges.
Still, a rifle was a rifle. I hopped down from the roof of the glorified storage shed and returned to my allies, who were staring at me warily.
“Ya move like a ghost, Agent” Shooting Star complimented me; though the unsettled tone in his voice implied something other than flattery.
“That’s kind of the point,” I lectured them, “to move unseen through the shadows… otherwise he might have shot me, and I’m deathly allergic to bullets” I tossed the musket to Lone Star, who intercepted it deftly, “Here, you’ll need this”
“Do I hafta?” He whined, “These longer guns are unwieldy as heck, never mind how they aren’t as portable as pistols”
“Sure” I acknowledged, “But pistols don’t have the same stopping power that rifles do, and their range is lacking as well”
“He’s got a point, big brother” Shooting Star pitched in, “It’s why the Sheriff favored his gun. He can reach out and touch criminal scum like these men from a distance, like he’s doin’ now. Besides, you should leave the rapid firin’ pistols to me and Zenith… especially Zenith” He reiterated, eyeing my Magnum with faint jealousy. Who could blame him?
At the reference of his mentor’s preferences, Lone Star appraised his rifle with a newfound appreciation, “All right, I’ll use the damn thing”
“Form up” I commanded, “Standard triangle formation. Lone Star, you take the left, about seven feet back. Shooting Star has the right. Our enemies are somewhere ahead. We’ll finish off these outlaws once and for all”
They obeyed without hesitation, moving into an incomplete diamond pattern like a well oiled machine. I felt proud of their adherence to squad based discipline, though their time with Sheriff Silverus might have been responsible for that. Speaking of the Sheriff, I could still make out a one sided gun fight duked out between the outlaws and the two lawmen nested at the summit of the canyon. They’d need our backup if we were to get anywhere. With a standard ‘move out’ gesture, we advanced in a slight jog as we went ahead with steely resolution to enforce the law.
We encountered minor resistance as we went, mostly from outlaws who were too cowardly to associate with Pyrite’s defense group and sheltered themselves in the various buildings purposed for mining use. I didn’t waste bullets on these miserable excuses for hostiles; electing to breach the doorways, dodge to the side the instant I saw their flint strikers hammer down, and then return the favor my hammering them in the face with the butt of my pistol. I wasn’t intent on killing every outlaw I saw, but these select few men would spend the rest of their lives behind bars once they woke.
The laggardly progress we were making was slow, but sure. In five minutes of shed to shed fighting, we controlled a significant portion of the sunken canyon valley. In ten minutes we were at seventy five percent territorial control. It was quite the feat for only a trio of men and a woman that was missing in action. The worrying decrease of bullets on my belt offset this news. Without my gun, I only had my magic to deal with ranged opponents, and that couldn’t be used as effectively as a firearm. The Sheriff and Clinky moved up alongside us as they saw our gains, though they were still under heavy fire by musketeer outlaws led personally by the Chief Prospector.
I doubted that they would have maintained their stubborn resistance if they had known about their deep mining operation being as thoroughly demolished as it was thanks to me. The equipment was left intact, as I had no intention on destroying such a valuable asset to the Kingdom, but finding tight lipped labor to keep it functional would be difficult. Eh, I’ll leave that to Discord. As the Chaotic Lord of the Bureaucracy, part of his duty was enlisting government workers, screening them for Loyalty, and putting them where they could be useful. Or he could just whip up an army of those broomstick assistants of his, enchant them with the knowledge to mine gold, and send them here. That would be an amusing sight to see, though I shudder to imagine if Disney Corporation jumped the dimensional borders to file a copyright lawsuit; the law’s nonexistence here be damned.
Before deliberations about the mine’s future could take place though, its present infestation of outlaws would have to be taken care of first. This was made inconvenient when a lone counter sniper’s bullet hit Clinky Keys mid-center. His cry of pain was so loud that would have been audible to a deaf person even at the bottom of the canyon, so we knew that it was a truly damaging hit. The man lost his footing and careened into the depths below, tumbling along the approximately vertical drop to land roughly upon a crate stacked cart with a crash. He was deathly still, his discarded carbine laying uselessly a few meters from him. If the bullet didn’t puncture vital organs and killed him, that deadly descent would have.
“CLINKY!” Lone Star screamed in a mix of heartbroken rage and despair, disregarding squad discipline and breaking from the formation to sprint towards his deceased friend. He ran a gauntlet of enemy fire amazingly without a scratch, though not for their lack of trying to put holes in him. They were positioned within the last few, fortified buildings in the valley that we hadn’t secured yet. It was a fifty foot stretch of mostly un-obstacled ground that was dangerous to downright suicidal to traverse without being peppered.
“Dammit, Lone Star, do not be a fool!” I shouted after him, though I might as well have been talking to a brick wall for all the good it did.
His brother was no less inconsolable, “We have to go after him, Zenith! He’ll get himself killed too!” At least Lone Star’s brother was smart enough to realize that Clinky had passed on.
“How do you propose we do that?” I questioned incredulously, “There has to be eight or so men standing between us and your brother right now. We won’t be half as lucky as him if we risk running across that minefield of lead!”
“Ya need to think of sumthin!” He screamed red-faced at me, “Yer a Royal Agent fer Celestia’s sake!”
I forgave his using my Sunshine’s name in vain, but he was ultimately right. I had fostered this grand image of a capable agent sent by the Princesses themselves in front of the men, and now it was time to live up to it in front of them too. I scanned the expanse that separated us from a despondent Lone Star at the opposite end. He was bent over the unmoving form of Clinky, hopelessly shaking him and speaking to him, as if bidding him to get up. I didn’t like it when my allies met with their mortality, but couldn’t let that get in the way of my mission. I was like Batman in that regard, putting the mission first, and I think I may have sacrificed the same portion of my humanity to accomplish that mindset into the bargain.
But doing so also signified that I had no emotional baggage to weigh down my decision making critical thinking processes. And it was through those processes that I had spotted a means of protecting myself and my meanwhile companion, whilst also escorting us to our erstwhile squad mate. There was a metal track that emerged from one of the deep mine entrances and curved its way laterally to the general spot where Lone Star was embroiled in grieving. At the opening of this entrance was a mine cart laden with gold ore destined for smelting. The track would take us awfully close to the entrenched outlaws however. But that risk represented nothing to either Shooting Star or myself. I notified him of this and he readily agreed to the idea, not having devised anything that could trump it on the fly. I used my magic to roll the cart over to us before we hunched behind it, using it as cover as we rolled it towards our comrade.
Bullets bounced and sparked off the metal casing of the cart as the outlaws sought to roll the dice with us, and one sent shreds of spalling biting into my hand, causing me to hiss in pain. It was not a debilitating wound as far as most wounds went, and my physiology was actually complex to the point where the metal fragments embedded into my skin would be absorbed and converted into their base elements in time. The best part of the Trifect physiology deal was that I’d never scar, no matter what damage I would stupidly visit on myself. Regardless, it was incredibly annoying to be constrained to a space no wider than four feet, and it felt worse to have to share that space with someone else on top of it. I released some of my pent up anger on the outlaws by tagging them with True Sight with a harmless peek, blind-firing (though my crosshairs painted the targets in my mind’s eye. Magic like this really was just cheating, I admit), and reducing the number of outlaws spitting at us by over a quarter.
“How the hell did ya do that?” Shooting Star inquired, yelping when a bullet smashed into a hunk of golden ore and scattering the particles all over us.
“Magic” Was my reliable go-to response.
His petulant silence told me that he wasn’t a fan of that ambiguous answer, but the reduced volume of fire concentrated on us meant that he had no other reason to complain. The mine cart’s wheels ground to a halt once we were safely obscured by an unloaded horse drawn cart, which was recently unhitched if the fresh hoof marks were any clue. That could be a problem. If the outlaws knew that they were being soundly beaten, then what remnants of them were left might flee and disperse over the south, and they wouldn’t be as traceable as Crooked Cards was. We had to hurry.
Shooting Star ran to console his brother with a hug, before lambasting him, “Darn it, Lone Star, don’t you run off into the line of fire like that! Ya nearly gave me a heart attack!”
His words went ignored, “He ain’t gone, he ain’t gone, he ain’t gone” Lone Star sobbed repetitively, “Wake up, Clinky… please. Don’t do this to us”
“I didn’t know him that well,” I offered my condolences in a solemn voice, “but he seemed like a decent man. He will be sorely missed” If only the outlaws had ‘missed’ him too.
“He was more than decent!” Lone Star bitingly retorted at my word choice, “He was mah friend. We were Silverstar’s first deputies for over a year until he recruited mah brother to the cause of preservin’ justice. We became thick as thieves durin’ that tenure: breakin’ up rowdy drunkards havin’ a spat over sumthin’ trivial, playin’ cards for hours on end, and gettin’ drunk as skunks ourselves when we were off duty” He emotionally swallowed the lump in his throat, “I never thought ah’d lose him this way”
“If you wish to honor his memory, then you won’t let the men who murdered him get away” I appealed to his ever present sense of duty, “There aren’t many outlaws left at this point, but the remaining ones surely realize that this is a losing fight for them; impossible as it seems. They’re contemplating cutting their losses and retreating… and if we let so much as a single one escape… then we’ve failed him in our commitments” I gestured to his dearly departed friend, and the gritted teeth I saw take place in his cheeks told me that it worked.
“The Agent’s right. C’mon big brother, we got a job to finish” Shooting Star said softly to his sniffling sibling. Teardrops wet the sand where he squatted, soaking it up like a sponge.
Lone Star wordlessly shut Clinky’s eyelids with his fingers and took off his gold starred hat (which had miraculously stayed attached to his head during his fall) before laying it over his face as a substitute death shroud. He went erect and rotated in place, planting the butt of his rifle into terra firma, a stark grimness in his countenance that I knew all too well from my own personal experience.
“No prisoners” He monotoned, “They had their chance… and now they’ve killed a lawman. It’s the rope fer all of ‘em” He sounded as if he was reciting a legal code, but I could spy the morbid anticipation behind his words. He wanted vengeance, and that it just so happened that it coincided with justice was a plus.
“Let’s get to it then” I loaded the last of my bullets into Dee-Dee, giving the cylinder a spin for luck despite not believing in the concept.
We resumed formation and flanked the dug in outlaws, drawing their fire with decoy thrusts while one of us, usually me, attacked them from their exposed rear. Like a wounded animal backed into a corner, they fought ferociously. The Sheriff picked off men as he could from where he was, but the increasing intervals between his shots portended that his stock of ammunition was depleting rapidly. Soon it was exhausted and we had no further fire support from the Sheriff, but he had achieved his purpose by then. The Chief Prospector had vociferously recalled about half a dozen of his leftover men and they barred themselves into a sturdier building of brick and mortar by the smelting facility. It was without windows and the vault sized doors were formidable upon close inspection. The outlaws had essentially trapped themselves, but aspired to postpone their inevitable doom by hiding behind a solid oaken shield.
“Bastards shut themselves in tight” Shooting Star observed, tapping at the door with his free hand. It made a dense thunking noise that would require a hell of a lot of force to displace. I could have used magic to rip the gate down, I suppose, but a display of raw power like that would raise questions of the annoying variety, so I thought of the other options I had available to me. It was things like this that made me glad I had saved some sticks of dynamite as I sifted through the pockets of my duster and fished out the explosive rods.
My companions had bug eyes as they witnessed me sticking the rods to the gate with an adhesive spell, “Where’d you get those, Agent?” Lone Star spoke up for the first instance since swearing vengeance on the outlaws over the death of his friend.
“A respectable Agent always comes prepared” I fibbed, sacrificing some honesty for the chance to sound badass. I lit the fuses simultaneously using my thumb as a lighter (a little trick that I emulated from when I first encountered Azure Phoenix in the Neverfree) and motioned for my companions to take cover somewhere safe outside of the blast radius. Dynamite was not the optimal explosive when it came to breaching charges due to its undirected nature, but a door like this ought to mitigate most of the force. If it didn’t, well the world could do with fewer outlaws anyhow.
Each stick had about a five second fuse time, so I availed myself of that delay to dole out a one liner, “Excuse me sirs, but do you have a moment to speak about Freedom?” Then I ran like someone had lit a fire under my ass, diving behind a smattering of makeshift breastworks (hastily constructed from obsolete mine cart plating and wooden planks) along with my temporary squad mates. The dynamite detonated just as my belly kissed the dirt.
The explosive power of TNT in this world never failed to deliver, perhaps being a third more potent than examples that I had seen. The enormous blast of light flared orange and yellow and the earth shook as the frontal portion of the building was blown sky high. Lone Star and his brother whooped and hollered as the dust settled, and I actually smiled along with them. After all, what kind of red blooded male didn’t love explosions, especially when they were used to punish the bad guys?
I popped the cylinder of my revolver and frowned when I counted a single shot staring back at me in the chamber. I’d have to save it for someone who’d truly earned it. I gestured for my comrades to approach the entrance of the building carefully, as the outlaws could still be waiting to give us an unfriendly welcome. As it was, the explosion wasn’t something they were expecting, so the men we encountered as we walked into the smoke and dust smothered room were either obliterated (as in, not enough left of them to bury in a soup can), or writhing in agony on the floor, their limbs missing or their bodies covered in burns from fires that were barely put out. Even as we were entering, some of them gave up the ghost.
It wasn’t the prone outlaws that attracted my attention though, but the massive machine in the center of the building. The chrome plated device was large and complicated, with convoluted light bulbs, pressure gauges, countless gears of all sizes, and whistles all interconnected through pipes. A transparent series of canisters at the apex of the machine dispensed what appeared to be soil, if their half depleted state was any indicator. A rubber conveyer belt was at one end where an unwelcoming aperture gaped at me with inky blackness, while a yawning receptacle bin below devices meant for dispensing was at the other. The mechanical monstrosity gave off a malevolent aura that put me ill at ease.
“Make certain these cretins are subdued” I issued an order to my companions as I made an informal investigation into the explicit purpose of this machine before me.
Lining the walls all around the building were stacks of crates labeled as fertilizer, with the usual Flim and Flam brothers’ red and yellow logo plastered on the sides. It seemed to be the truth, as I propped open the lid on one with the leverage from my Tantō, bags of stinking ruddy fertilizer greeted my sight. This mundane picture of innocence was an insidious façade, and even though the aftereffects of the explosion had contaminated it somewhat, the air in here smelled… wrong, like a whiff of gunpowder mixed with rotting decay. After being around it so many times, I had learned to memorize the scent of death, freshly killed or otherwise. I reexamined the receptacle bin and dipped my finger into its mushy contents. The soil felt unnaturally warm and moist, and when I retracted my ungloved digit, I found that my flesh was stained crimson, and tasted alarmingly coppery. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that perverse things went on in this building that I had sinking suspicions about.
I rounded a corner of the monumental device as I circled it, only to find a gun pointed in my face. Before I could react the flint striker went ‘Klatch!’, only for nothing to happen as it failed to ignite the primer. I briefly thanked God that my ticket hadn’t been punched before I snatched the hand holding the pistol, yanked it towards me, and punched the man in the belly with my unoccupied fist. I didn’t hold much of my strength back in my anger, so the man (whom I recognized as the Chief Prospector) hunched over with a pained wheeze. He lashed out with a feral haymaker with his left that I ducked under. As he pivoted with his bungling blow, I clapped a hand on the back of his unprotected head and made him head-butt the machine, a contest that he lost. I seized him by the throat before he could recover from his concussed daze and slammed him against the metallic surface of the machine, crushing a few of those delicate light bulbs and bruising his spine on the gears. I confiscated any of the other arms he had on his person and tossed them aside, in case he had any funny ideas about injecting me with lead.
I glared at him, “What is this place? What’s the function of this machine?” He would give me what I wanted, be it an excuse to inflict pain or beneficial information. Either one worked for me.
“Go to hell!” He resisted me, before spitting in my face.
I wiped his spittle off my cheek before I wrenched one of his hands that was clutching at his compressed windpipe. He cried out pitifully as I twisted his left index finger way beyond its capacity to flex, eliciting an unhealthy sounding pop that morphed into a crunch as I utilized my steel clamp like grip. I didn’t care that I was being too rough on the suspect. And after what he and his henchmen put them through, neither did my companions. He owed me some answers. Now.
“TALK!” I demanded, “Or I’ll break another one!”
“Y-yer bl-bluffin’!” He eeked out. He may have been pigheaded initially, but I could be most persuasive when I was in one of my interrogative moods.
My reply was to follow through with my promise, forever destroying his ability to use his middle finger. He should have counted himself blessed that I was abusing his non dominant hand.
“Boy, you are dumber than a sack of rocks” Lone Star smugly commented from somewhere behind me, enjoying my excessive demonstration of brutality, “An incensed Agent of the Crown is not someone ya’d want to deny if ya plan on livin’ awhile” They were all dead men anyhow, but he didn’t need to know that.
“AUR-huerk!” He yowled, before giving in after the third finger, “All right, all right! I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Just stop, please stop!” He whimpered pathetically. I unmanned him too easily for my tastes, but some men just didn’t have a high threshold for excruciating pain.
“What is this place?” I repeated, false sweetness in my tone.
“Eerh, sonavabitch” He muttered lowly, “It’s- it’s our packagin’ center” Pyrite explained after the pain became manageable, “We disguise each of the shipments of gold that we smelt into bars by coverin’ it over with a layer of enchanted fertilizer bags to fool the inspectors. Misters Flim and Flam have special units of the stuff exported somewhere overseas as part of their legal dealin’s. The rest of it is legitimate goods, I swear!”
“And the fertilizer that they use to cover it over with?” Was my subsequent question, “How do they make it? I heard there was some sort of secret ingredient that really puts the fertile into it”
He leered at me, “I think ya know… Agent” He somehow made the title sound like an insult.
I felt that pit in my stomach become shallower as I recalled something, “Where is the boy that you sent to ‘reorientation’?”
He grinned fiendishly, not minding the ramifications of me knowing this, “Check the bin. Really dig in there”
I obliged, but not before colliding my elbow into his head to disorient him as I let go of his neck. I folded up the sleeve of my duster before plunging my arm into the receptacle bin and combing through it. I felt a jagged piece of what felt like bone poke into my palm and I latched onto it, withdrawing it from the newly made fertilizer. I inhibited my bile from issuing forth as I comprehended the familiar colored buffalo bone necklace that the boy had been wearing when Pyrite supposedly saved him from a beating at the hands of his underlings. It was chipped and there were pieces that were snapped off, but it was unmistakably that same necklace the boy was wearing when he was taken away. He didn’t survive.
“He was only a child. Couldn’t have seen his tenth year on this Earth” I stated in a voice nearly as dead as he was.
“So w-” Pyrite coughed and rubbed at his head, “So were the last dozen before him. All of ‘em useless workers that are worth more mulched an’ stuffed in a box than alive and takin’ up precious resources needed to sustain our actual workers. One of the reasons Mister Flam made me the foreman of this goldmine was because I was efficient” He was pleased with himself, even when the long arm of the law had caught up to him.
The heartless bastard had no regret in his voice whatsoever, “He was a boy!” I screamed at him, my eyes lighting up like two red hot fire pokers, “He should have been with his people, growing up to be a man of the Buffalo Braves, not fodder for your greedy schemes and subversive aims for the realm!”
“Savages… the lot of ‘em” He hocked a wad of saliva onto the dirt floor, “The fact the Princess never eradicated them makes me sick to mah stomach. Doxy whore”
I did not indulge him with a coherent response to that, as my normal control over my emotions faltered. My vision had taken on a ruby tinting as I stormed over to him, delivered an unprotected kick to his face, shattering his jaw in the process, before unholstering my Magnum. Dee-Dee barked once (expending that final bullet I saved for an occasion like this), and Pyrite’s gray matter was splattered against the metal surface of the infernal machine as the bullet firmly wedged itself into the metallic frame. The blood pattern it made was almost artistic to me in my vindictive frame of mind. Any man with the chutzpah to murder children and insult my Sunshine’s honor forfeited his life to me. I heard our captives curse aloud and try to shrink away from me, only to find themselves entangled in my companions’ fleshy restraints. They were afraid now? I’d make them wet themselves with terror before I was finished.
“Give the Devil my regards” I uttered disdainfully as I holstered my weapon and dragged his corpse to the conveyer end of the machine. I dumped his sooty remains head first onto the conveyer belt and flipped the switch that clearly read ‘Initiate mulching process’ in fine print beneath it.
Even though it was partially damaged from the explosion and my hands-on interrogation of Pyrite, the machine rumbled to life with the gnashing of gears and the blinking of light bulbs. The conveyer belt began its slow revolutions as it rolled Pyrite’s body into the machine’s hungry maw. Once his boots disappeared into the blackness of the machine, there was an unholy cacophony of crushing, grinding, and mashing as Pyrite was pulverized and converted into a slurry that was blended with the soil that was input from the canisters. In rudimentary terms, this machine acted like a refined version of a wood chipper, only it liquefied what was put into it instead of leaving solid matter. The concept that this was a viable way to improve the soil’s fertility was disturbing, as was the unspoken question of how this marketable product was discovered by the Flim-Flam brothers… unless it wasn’t them. Flam did mention working for others higher up a shadowy hierarchy that I had yet to officially unravel the existence of.
The Pyrite Purée was squeezed through a setup of nozzles into a receptacle bin that I switched out with the original, which was reaching its brimming point anyhow. I lidded it with the crate cover that I pried off and made a mental note to have it delivered to the glade beneath my Cloud home later. I was thinking of starting a garden and cultivating some of the unique and exotic plants that called the Neverfree home, and the mush that was once Pyrite was going to help me with that. Since it loosely fell under the category of contraband, I had the right as an Agent to appropriate it as I saw fit.
“I get that the man was despicable, Zenith” Shooting Star spoke up, sidling up to me, “But was that gratuitous display really necessary?” He waved a hand at our prisoners, where a watchful Lone Star had rounded them into a corner, “Our captives are gonna have nightmares fer days afterwards!”
“It got a very important message across” I replied coolly, “They won’t try to pull the wool over my eyes if they value their miserable lives”
I walked over to them, resisting the urge to grin like a shark when they recoiled in fear, “I’m in a poor mood for bullshit today, so I am going to ask you some questions, and if you don’t want to end up like your boss over there…” I gesticulated with a thumb to the bin, “…you will answer them with the utmost of candor and to the best of your knowledge. Got that?”
All three of them nodded fervently, even the man who had a pair of charred, bleeding stumps for a right arm and leg as a result of being too near the explosion. Agrarians were a tough breed, so the man would endure until he bled out if I deemed it imperative. But I was not that cruel, even if I hated them for what they had done.
“Which of you knows the most about this place? Its background history and how this malignancy of a business operation went on underneath the Crown’s nose undetected?” I grilled them.
The three of them looked at each other in a noiseless conference before an older fellow with a bent nose, a grey, worn out Elkhorn Stetson with the brim curved on one side on his head, and maroon whiskers raised his hand, “Very well then. You tend to this one’s wounds however you can” I commanded the only other uninjured man, who set about the burden I placed on him with an unsure expression.
I refocused on bent-nose, “What is your name?”
“Sandy Slate, Mister Zenith. I was one of the recruiters fer this undertakin’” He croaked, his voice hoarse with particulate matter from the unfiltered air.
“That’s Agent Zenith to you” I corrected him coldly, “Let me get one thing straight with you, Sandy Slate. I am neither your friend nor your ally. If you cooperate willingly and offer substantial information that will bring those responsible for this to justice, your sentence might be reduced. Impede me in any way, and I will feed you to that machine… alive” It was not a threat, but a vow.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, “I understand! Ah’ll answer whatever you have to ask!”
Question one, “Who discovered this canyon, and the wealth waiting to be extracted within?”
“That I don’t know, sir… ah mean Agent!” He panicked with the appropriate appellation, which was wholesome proof that he respected my authority, “Ah was among those tasked by Misters Flim and Flam with acquirin’ the men to oversee the construction of the mine in the richest part of these canyons”
“Natives?” I touched on the subject, making sure to use their polite designation.
Sandy shook his head, “No, no. At first it was men from all over the southern towns with desirable skillsets to facilitate the mine’s development. Carpenters, miners and prospectors like the Chief, even a smalltime banker or two to foot the bill for the expenses of haulin’ all that equipment down here without arousin’ undue suspicion. A’course, that ain’t hard when the closest settlement is a day’s ride away and some palms are greased to keep the local authorities lookin’ the other way”
This was definitely going in the report I would send to Celestia once this was concluded. Corruption in the bureaucracy was like a cancer that would spoil the whole system if left unchecked. The Princess would see to it in short order; one of the few benefits I would concede that a Monarchical Oligarchy like Arcania had over the inefficiencies of a fully fledged Democracy.
I frowned. Government corruption consistently left a bad taste in my mouth, “Pyrite alluded that some of these disguised units of gold were shipped overseas. Would you happen to know a specific destination?”
He bobbed his head, “Nothin’ specific mind you. But ah did overhear Mister Flam mumblin’ about how the tariffs in the Gryphondrian seaport of Westcliff were bothersome once when he dragged himself out of his office to come drink with the guys. He had a odd grudge that was contrary to imbibin’ the hard cider we had several stores of” He commented offhand, which I would have chuckled at in amusement had I not been so royally pissed.
This nugget of information was worth more than all the golden nuggets in the canyon valley, “Gryphondrian port of Westcliff, eh? That is interesting” I murmured to myself, “When did slave labor enter this otherwise pristine picture?”
At this the man was uncomfortable, “Please try ta understand, Agent. Ah was always against what Mister Flam suggested when he came to personally manage the mine’s operation, but there was so much gold in this canyon, and we were jus’ too few to harvest a sufficient amount of gold to meet our employers’ ample quotas by ourselves. An’ when he brought in those guns to subdue the villages with and tol’ us he had a method for findin’ those villages and keepin’ the Buffalo Braves complacent and obeisant while they did the literal heavy liftin’. There weren’t many practical reasons fer us to object to it, and that sealed it”
“Either you’re lying or you failed to produce a very convincing counterargument to mass brainwashing and slavery” I derided him, “You were abetting an illegal activity regardless of what it was”
“Ah ain’t lyin ‘bout that!” He expressed indignantly, “I was only a minor recruiter in the grand scheme, so mah opinions were tossed aside without a lick of consideration. If there wasn’t a fortune to be made here, I would have done sumthin’ about it beyond protestin’”
“That excuse would have been valid had you gone to some trustworthy authorities like those of the Sheriff in Appleloosa and spilled this story to them, instead of having it wrested out of you by me” I blew his picture of relative innocence out of the water.
“Did you know about this atrocity?” I referred to the machine I had fed his overseer’s corpse to.
“No, sir, Agent. I didn’t” He denied, “Ah don’t think many of us would have stayed on had we known that they were doin’… this” His face took on a shade of nauseated green, “A terrible thing, even for what we were doin’. Now ah know why the natives that expired were never buried, nor mentioned again”
I believed him, though that persistent tugging cynicism at the back of my mind urged me not to. That kind of disgusted reaction was not effortlessly faked, and I doubted that this man had trained himself to fabricate his emotions. It was a shame that these men got lured into this cesspit of iniquity, though the temptation of vast riches seemingly without end had led many in the past passed their moral event horizon and to their doom before. This regrettable fact held true no matter the world.
He slumped dejectedly in his sitting posture, “I was a week or two’s pay from quittin’ and livin’ like a king in one of the fancy coastal cities like Steelhatten or Las Valkyras” He bemoaned.
His whining raised an interesting point I had not ruminated on, “Has anyone ever quit before?”
“Well sure they have. There were the Billiard twins, who were two of the few others that were ill-disposed to enslavin’ the natives” He shrugged, before scratching at his chin, “Ya know, no one ever did hear from ‘em again… even Mister Cue, who knew ‘em on a personal level. He said their cozy lil’ place in Thackerton was empty when he came to visit durin’ a supply run, which is bizarre… since they constantly talked sweet about their hometown like it was a lover”
They didn’t disappear into the sunset with saddlebags fat with gold. They were disappeared, likely to assure their silence about the whereabouts and dirty details of the mine. These outlaws were just as confined to this mine as their charges, and they didn’t even know it. No loyalty amongst thieves it seemed, at least not when they were expendable liabilities.
Sandy apparently grasped the reality of the situation, “Nah… they wouldn’t! The Billiards were jus’ spinnin’ tales they didn’t even believe”
“They would” I averred, “You and everyone else in this mine were only ever a means to an end” But what was that end? That was the real mystery here.
“Are ya sayin’ that Flam jus’ offed ‘em?” He lifted an eyebrow, “Even if that were true, and ah ain’t sayin’ it is… I simply can’t see the city slicker pickin’ a fight with ‘em and winnin’. They weren’t no pushovers”
“Not Flam” I agreed, “But his enigmatic employers might have provided him the means to keep his own hands clean of blood” I snorted scornfully, “He died like a coward anyhow”
“He’s dead too?” Sandy sighed, “Ah can’t say I ever liked him a great deal, but I made more money workin’ for him than in any thankless job before this one”
“I understand that making an honest living isn’t always easy,” I condoled with him, “but you can’t sacrifice your scruples in get rich quick schemes… especially if those schemes involve violating a person’s free will; let alone hundreds of them”
“Spare me the lecture, Agent” He ignored my advice, “Ah never made no claims to perfection, but I don’t need a holier than thou government boy lordin’ his superior morals over me. Ah made a mistake bein’ here, I get it”
“Watch your tone” I warned him, miffed at his recalcitrant commentary, “I still haven’t decided your fate yet. I’ve reached my ultimate question, and this one had better be acknowledged with nothing but the truth”
“Ask it” He replied, “Then leave us alone or dispose of us. I’ve had enough of Royal Agents fer today”
I overlooked his continued prickly attitude, “Did anyone manage to escape before we apprehended you? I noticed that the wagons were unhitched of their horses. I’d hate to have to hunt them down”
He laughed, “So you didn’t intentionally attack this place on the one day we were about to move a massive shipment out that required every horse we could harness? Perhaps ah overestimated y’all. Ya jus’ had lucky timin’ with yer assault”
“Luck had nothing to do with it” I retorted, “And that’s not an answer”
“Not to mah knowledge, none did” He gestured to the destroyed door, “We were about ta saddle up and ride the opposite way through the canyon as a group to evade y’all. But you were swifter than we expected, an’ whoever ya had shootin’ at us from above delayed us further. Had to abandon the stables and make a stand here. We tried to outlast y’all in here, but as ya can clearly tell, that didn’t work out too well”
“Just goes to show you” I smirked, “Crime doesn’t pay”
“Gloat all ya want, Agent,” He stared darkly at me, “but sooner or later yer pride will get the best of you like it did us”
“I make it a point to simmer down with my hubris after a victory, so I doubt that anything will come of that prediction” I gainsaid him, before speaking professionally, “Sandy Slate. I deem that the information I gleaned from this conversation will save lives, so your sentence will be reduced upon official confirmation of the veracity of your claims” I left out that verified lies would be punished by instant termination.
“I can go free?” He questioned hopefully.
“You’re not fit for comedy” I disparagingly remarked, “For aiding a Royal Agent, you will not be hung for resisting arrest and contributing to the death of a lawman. In lieu of this punishment, you will instead be given a choice between a sentence of ten years in prison, with the possibility of parole for exceptionally good behavior, or ten years of community service with strict supervision. This will be lessened should you be telling me the truth”
“Awful generous of you, but what about them!?” He looked to the others, particularly the injured one (whose arm and leg stumps had been wrapped in torn cloth from the uninjured one’s outfit to form crude bandages), “Sandstone’s mah only cousin!”
“They will be hung by the neck until they are dead” Lone Star described the penalty for me, “Ah’ll tie the noose mahself”
“No, please!” He threw himself at my feet, prompting Lone Star to keep his weapon trained on him until I dissuaded him with a relenting hand gesture, “Let me hang in his place. Ah promised mah aunt that ah’d look after him after she died!” He beseeched of me, “Please, Agent… show him mercy”
I listened to him with a stoic expression on my face, “You would substitute your own life in place of his?”
He nodded furiously, practically dusting the floor with his hat where he knelt. His appeal to my mercy put me in another of those dilemmas. If I outright rejected his admittedly selfless offer of sacrifice, I chanced alienating Celestia, who I intrinsically knew was listening in on this very attentively. However, warping the law to accommodate his cousin, who had not aided me, would also be a debatable choice. The nice perk about being a Royal Agent personally connected to their Highnesses meant that I was their voice when it came to important decisions that they were not present to make. If the man wanted to die in place of his cousin out of a promise he swore to uphold, then I would not prevent him from being a man of his word.
“By all means then,” I slackly rolled my shoulders, “resign yourself to the hangman’s noose for his sake”
“Thank ya, thank ya, Agent!” He continued to prostrate himself before me, “May ah make one final request of you?” I grunted affirmatively, “Can mah cousin keep the wages he’s earned durin’ his time here? And if so, can he have mine to support him? He’s not what ya’d call… prudent with his finances” He whispered low and confidentially to me.
Sandstone overheard him anyway, “I resent that, cuz” His features softened, “But thanks for lookin’ out fer me. So how ‘bout it, Agent?”
“I cannot allow him to retain his wages from a job that wasn’t legally sanctioned by their Majesties’ Government” At both of their disheartened looks, I amended my statement, “However, any nuggets that Sandstone here happens upon while being escorted from this canyon is fair game” I glanced at Shooting Star, “Be sure to take the lustrous route with him to one of the wagons, though do not neglect to keep your gun on him. We’ll convert one of them to ferry these three to the jail cells”
“Agent” He looked at me funny, “Are ya sure ya should be so… nice to ‘em? They were tryin’ to kill us not ten minutes ago”
“I’m aware, but if you recall from last night’s campfire story, I believe in giving second chances to people who are willing to atone for their misdeeds, and I don’t spin tall tales” I glared at Sandstone, “Do not mistake this kindness I’ve extended for weakness. If you so much as think of reverting back to an outlaw, I will find you… and you will wish you’d never been born”
The fear was re-sparked in his eyes, and I knew that my warning was heeded, “We’re done here” I swiped my arm in an arbitrary motion, “Get these men out of my sight”
They complied. Lone Star rounded up Sandy and that one wounded fellow (who had to lean on Sandy for support) while Shooting Star took Sandstone outside for the most money grubbing walk of his life. I pulled Lone Star aside for a second and reminded him to collect the other surviving outlaws I had knocked out cold while we were fighting from building to building. Although the fighting had concluded, my business in the canyon was unresolved. I gave the machine one last look of abhorrence before ambling outside with the others. Strongheart must have disregarded my instructions, because we were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of hazy eyed natives that goggled blankly at us. Somebody was pushing their way through the crowd and they shuffled to the side to make space. Two figures emerged from the crowd in the forms of Applejack and the Chieftain’s daughter.
“Applejack!” I called out, meeting her halfway and scooping her up in a hug, “I was worried about you! When the deputies told me you disappeared when the shooting started, I feared the worst”
She was surprised at first, but returned the hug in moments, “Ah’m okay, Zenith. Ah couldn’t hack it when the bullets were goin’ every which way. Ah’m jus’ too used to closin’ with my opponents, not slingin’ metal pellets at ‘em” She sounded ashamed. Having fostered an image of being a dependable woman in the most tense of situations couldn’t have helped with that shame.
I brushed at her cheek with my thumb, “It’s alright, Applejack. I’d rather you not become blasé about killing” Though this was partly a lie, since I could have used the kick of her blunderbuss when we were house fighting, “I’m just glad you’re safe”
“Thank you for understandin’, Zenith” She smiled sadly, before perking up, “Wasn’t totally useless though! I used the distraction to sneak away and look fer you. Guess who ah found instead” She pointed to Strongheart, who watched us with a hint of bemusement.
“Zenith” The native beside us woman surveyed the damage of the scene, “You have defeated our captors?” I nodded in the affirmative to her, “Your abilities on the field of battle are unmatched, even by our greatest Chieftains” She complimented me.
I wasn’t one for praise, “Stop it. You’ll make me blush” I removed her hat and placed it on my noggin, “I’ll be wanting this back on its rightful cranium”
“I take it that all of your people are accounted for?” I said as I fussily readjusted the fit. I felt strangely naked without it. This was made worse by the sight of Applejack knowingly smirking at me in my peripherals.
She shook her now unadorned head, “There are several missing, I believe. But with my people unresponsive to all but the most basic of questions and commands, I cannot be entirely certain of this”
My chest twinged as I debated over revealing to Strongheart that the people she was referring to had been chopped, diced, and minced into smithereens that were added to soil to make fertilizer, that their blood had been converted into bits for Flim and Flam’s legitimate business, that the remains of those people were now in some farmer’s cornfield somewhere. How did one gently break news such as that to someone else exactly?
Applejack saw the internal conflict rage through the window of my eyes and called me out on it, “Is there sumthin’ you want to tell us?”
Without waiting for approval, I encapsulated the space around Applejack and myself with a magical field that kept outside noise from getting in and out. To an observer unversed in magic, it would have seemed like the air around us had faintly pulsed crimson for a millisecond.
“I know what happened to Strongheart’s missing people” I divulged to the Element of Honesty, who regarded me with shock.
“And why’d you hafta use magic to tell me that?” She questioned with narrowed eyes, “Ya should be tellin’ her!” She stared at me flatly when I raised an eyebrow, “I ain’t naïve, Zenith. I’ve been around Twilight enough times that I can discern the buzzy feelin’ of recently casted magic with the best of ‘em. Now tell her what you know” She commanded me in a voice that brooked no argument.
“I can’t!” I growled, “If I do, it might ruin any chance of there being peace in the South if the truth gets out. That night during the wagon train ambush? It might continue on a larger scale”
“What are ya talkin’ about? What happened to her missin’ kin?” She asked, suddenly wary.
“They’re dead” I disclosed, eliciting a gasp from her, “And there aren’t even any bodies to bury or bring back to their families” Not unless they wanted to buy out all of Flim and Flam’s supply of ‘magically enhanced’ fertilizer.
“W-wha? I-I” She stuttered, before forming an intelligible response, “But how?”
“Physical abuse, malnourishment, being ‘reoriented’ by the Chief Prospector” I scoffed, “Take your pick. Their bodies were recycled into mulch using a machine that might have been designed by men you know. Flim and Flam”
The mention of their names sparked a flame in her, “Are those no good sleaze balls responsible for their murders!? Show me where they are, now! They need to pay for this!”
“I hate to deprive you of your vengeance, but Flam is dead. I killed him myself” I cut into her hopes, “Flim, if you recall, is still residing in Dodge Junction. His hair lipped brother was managing the operation here down in those mines”
With no target in punching distance to vent her anger upon, depression set in and she sighed onerously, “Strongheart needs ta know, Zenith. Keepin’ the truth from her ain’t right, and you know it”
As it was, I would defer this momentous decision (and the responsibilities for the consequences therein) to Applejack, “Fine. I will let her see what has become of her people who did not make it. But bear this in mind, Applejack, if this open act of Honesty endangers the future between Settler and Native in any manner, it will be on your head” I crooked a finger at her in a severe manner.
She looked hurt by my venomous attitude, but set her jaw firmly, “Ah’ll take full responsibility for this, Agent” She used my title stiffly, the same way I starchily called Celestia or Luna Princess when they irked me in some way or if was feeling like being contrary.
I dropped the sound containment field and faced Strongheart, “Come with me. I have something you’re not going to like, but need to see anyway” Without waiting for her reply, I begrudgingly returned to the packaging center. Strongheart followed suit almost without delay.
To my dismay, Applejack also decided to tag along, either out of morbid curiosity or a resolve to bear the emotional trauma with Strongheart and commiserate if necessary. I noticed that they had been acting more cordial to each other lately. They were maybe not quite friends, but they had reached an accord at the very least.
“Ugh… the smell!” Applejack dry heaved, her stomach rebelling due to the stench, “Only parts of the Neverfree stunk worse!”
She had a point there. Some of the muck bowl bogs in that jungly swamp of a forest smelled like death, which was presumably the case. Doubly so when those Crockodiles (Cragadile wasn’t as catchy a term, so that’s what I prefer to call them) were lurking beneath the surface, patiently biding their time for the next sucker to blunder their way into their domain and become a tasty snack. The extremely territorial reptiles hadn’t died out from starvation yet, so their lazy predation tactics worked out for them. Their rock like hides sold for a small fortune in places like the Capital, which were then remade into a durable, if unevenly textured material that was all the rage amongst feminine fashion circles in Concordia (Another trivial tidbit of knowledge that I learned from my relationship with Rarity).
A crinkle nosed Strongheart examined the building much the same way I had, “I see multiple crates with the sickening likeness of my captors’ faces on them. Why did you bring me here?”
I ambled over to the receptacle where I had left the unnamed native boy’s necklace on the lip of the container. I reverently cradled it in my hands before handing it over to Strongheart. Her confusion quickly turned to realization as she connected the dots in her mind.
“This necklace is that of Wind Whistlers. I recognize the style of the carvings. This belonged to one who had not reached manhood” She looked around with self deceiving hope, “Where is he?”
“Murdered by the outlaws” I answered, “Children weren’t favored by the outlaws to perform labor here in the mines, and so the slightest mishap was punished gravely. The boy that necklace belonged to angered them when he spilled a wheelbarrow filled with gold dust. They sent him here, to be ‘reoriented’, which is a euphemism for being mulched by this machine. Whatever is left of that boy, is in that receptacle over there”
This time Applejack bent over and truly emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor. I patted her on the back to make sure she was okay and that she had gotten it all out while I monitored Strongheart for her reaction. The native woman was silent for a long time, her face as unreadable as an un-carved slate.
“May the Great Spirit grant them peace, and guide them on to verdant pastures beyond all the pain or sorrow so common in this flawed life” She recited, not choking up once. But I could only imagine what kind of grief she was suffering.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this sooner” I apologized to her, “Maybe if I had bee-”
She wouldn’t have any of it, “Do not apologize for circumstances beyond your ability to control, Zenith. Powerful as you are, even you cannot save everyone”
Her words stung deeper than I cared to admit. For all of my Arcane might, I still could not prevent a single one of the many tragedies that occurred here. However, what I could do was ensure that all of those responsible for this were put to the sword. This evil had to be destroyed before it could do something like this again. I made a vow to oppose those who misused their clout and got innocent people hurt, and I aimed to keep it.
I saw to my friend, “You okay, AJ?” She waved her hand in the air behind her to say that she was, though her bile had not yet ceased to flow.
Once she had controlled her sickness, I spoke to the native woman, “C’mon, Strongheart. We can’t do anything for the dead, but the living are a different matter” She wordlessly agreed, stoically leaving the building and all of its horror literally and figuratively behind her.
I aided my companions in rounding up the horses the outlaws were about to escape on and set about hitching them to the numerous carts scattered up and down the valley. The Sheriff eventually made it back to us after having some trouble relocating the natural switchback leading into the canyon. He was as aggrieved as Lone Star to learn that Clinky died in the line of duty, though he hid his pain behind a thin veneer of infallible authority, reining in his deputies anew and getting them to wrap his body in tarp and put it aboard one of the wagons before collecting all of the discarded firearms. I gathered everyone together and swore them to secrecy about the existence and location of the mine. The standing excuse they were to use if asked about it was that we discovered an outlaw camp where the natives were being held hostage, which was partially the truth (Albeit Applejack frowned at the ambiguous way I phrased it). As of today, it was an illegal facility under the jurisdiction of the Crown. Even if Strongheart did not technically consider herself an Arcanian, she concurred with my judgment to keep this place off the grid.
Strongheart gave orders aloud for her people to empty the carts of their cargo and free up room for us to use them as transport flatbeds. A ray of light in an otherwise gloomy aftermath was that some of Strongheart’s brainwashed kin were becoming more responsive by the minute, implying that a surplus of time in the sunlight would gradually restore their mental faculties to working condition. With the hundreds of people that the outlaws had kidnapped, it would take dozens of carts to get everyone out, and there were not enough coherent people to drive those carts between the six of us.
There was also the matter of supplies. The trip to Appleloosa (a topic that was a hard sell to Strongheart, who wanted her people home posthaste) would take the better half of the remainder of the day and well into the following morning at our estimated delayed pace with our native passengers in tow. This transitional postponement was also if we decided to make camp to wait for the morning light to guide our path, otherwise we would be able to ride there in a straight line in no time at all. The only reason we had was because Crooked Cards was following a predetermined mandatory serpentine route to throw off any pursuers. It did not deter us due to my enchanted coin, but he didn’t have the nous to suspect that, now did he?
To prepare for this challenging undertaking, we scoured every building in the valley from the smelter to the security slash tavern blockhouse that was shot to hell from the initial gunfight for provisions to take with us. We found plenty of alcohol (no surprise there, given the lackluster moral quality of the majority of the outlaws), maybe two dozen and a half barrels of purified drinking water (the rest of them were to supply the gold dust straining units) in a sequestered storeroom in the mines, but the only substantial reserves of food left were those vessels of gruel that had Strongheart’s kin in the predicament they were currently in.
The native woman’s own stubborn streak was undone when I relayed to her that those who were weakest, elderly, or children would not survive the harsh temperatures without their nourishment. Harmful as the gruel was, it was still considered a source of food. Convincing her that her people weren’t going to get additionally brainwashed from a last serving of gruel was tough, but Strongheart ultimately conceded the wisdom of it when confronted with the reality of her aforementioned people’s physical weakness. The former slaves were in bad shape, notably now that the sun illuminated them. I’m not sure for what period of time they were all kept here, but on average the wear and tear I was witnessing had to be anywhere from a few weeks to over a month. Ribs were exhibited poking above the skin in over half of their numbers, backs were scarred from the whip, and a few natives were even missing some of their fingers.
I was rather proud that Strongheart didn’t seek revenge on the surviving outlaws, who the Sheriff and Lone Star had slung over their shoulders in a fireman’s hold and dumped them on the prison cart with the rest, after binding their arms and legs with coils of rope that they had in their saddlebags of course. Even if they tried to run once they were conscious, the desert would do just as efficient a job of meting out punishment as the lawmen, give or take a few hours.
Eventually we developed a doable travel arrangement for the Buffalo Braves. Those that could still function without requiring aid would trail behind the rear passenger slash armory wagon due to all of the guns compiled on the passenger bench. Strongheart would drive this means of conveyance, while I would be in one of two heavily laden supply wagons after that (Applejack being the other teamster). The Sheriff would cart the captured outlaws in the middle while Lone Star and his brother would spearhead the column with those who were sick, injured, or otherwise too weak to make the journey by foot. I had North Wind and Dusk Breeze hitched to my cart, their combined muscle being the equivalent of six outlaw steeds, which were closer to ordinary Rounceys than Destriers. Our starting pace was slow as predicted until we got everyone out of the canyon. On the flattish ground the brainwashed natives marched in synchronized file that would have even modern militaries jealous. Despite this advantage, traversing the desert on foot would always be sluggish compared to traveling on horseback.
Strongheart requested beforehand that we stop every hour or so to check up on her people. Those who were beginning to lag behind would be swapped out with well rested ones, but the sick and the children stayed right where they were. We had a lunch break to feed Strongheart’s people and to water the horses and ourselves. Other than that though, the return journey to Appleloosa was blissfully uneventful.
It gave me plenty of time to reflect on what I had seen, heard, and done as I composed a longwinded letter to Celestia detailing the events that had transpired since I met with Braeburn and Strongheart at Cherry Jubilee’s Ranch. I left nothing out of my report, from the highlights, to the low points where hope seemed dim. I wrote about the bloodshed that ensued between settler and native, and how the losses might have been worse had I not rallied a haphazard defense and defeated their war leader in single combat. I included how Strongheart’s presence helped influence the second in command to back down and return their Chieftain’s daughter to the main village of Tatankama, where she was unfortunately kidnapped by a surprise raid by the very outlaws who had been raising hell in the region. The now comatose informant, Wild Bull, had been an utter fool to trust them. It was an assessment that I was sure she would agree with.
I even informed her about the Shaman and his warning to me concerning the Great Dissonance’s plans, and how I factored into its schemes. Now that I thought about it, I was positive that it was pulling the strings behind the establishment of the mine and the use of natives as slaves. Flim and Flam’s employers were likely an extension of its will, though whether or not it was directly influencing events had yet to be determined. With the information I learned from Strongheart, I sought after Wild Bull’s outlaw counterpart in Appleloosa, only to be challenged by a gang of outlaws that had a grudge against Braeburn and myself. We prevailed in the showdown, and I shipped the captive leader of the gang off to the natives for them to do with as they pleased. If Chief Thunderfeet was smart, and I had reason to believe he was, he would interrogate him about his activities and discover that the agency that had been stealing his people away from him operated in the shadows.
With the outlaw gang dispatched, I was able to appropriate their weapons and convince the local law enforcement in town to join me in bringing the rest of them to justice. I informed her about the underhanded trick I played on Crooked Cards to get him to lead us back to his comrades. I elucidated on the horrors I encountered within the mines, and how hard fought the liberation of the natives was, as well as adjuring that a team be sent to seize it in the name of the Crown. The rest as they say was history. I rolled up the paper like it was a scroll and utilized the special bottle of dragon fire to relay it to the Princess. The gout of flame that consumed the document without destroying it was a most vivid array of colors; the bright pink shifting to an unbelievable shade of purple that was as mesmerizing at it was dazzling.
The letter transformed into a string of smoke that zoomed off to the North. She would be receiving it within minutes, if that. If she were to conduct a response, I would soon know just how expeditious this two of a kind bottle o’ flame was. The precedent that Crystal Clear set (she wrote replies forthwith, bless her heart) was about two minutes, so I became steadily worried when minutes ticked into hours without a return letter from the Princess. Perhaps I had been too frank when I should have been earnest? I couldn’t have euphemized the deaths of her citizens, or withheld that from her, especially when she could have been keeping an ear on me through the magical seal on my Mage-blade’s hilt at any given moment. The sun was in the initial stages of setting when we were about forty five miles outside of Appleloosa, painting the sky a rich vermillion and dark red, though I overheard either Lone Star or his brother note that it was fifteen minutes later than usual for this time of year.
Even in the lessened light and without any self augmenting spells, my keen eyesight was capable of picking out the shaded silhouettes of riders in the distance atop a small hill, at about five hundred meters to our right. I saw one of them take out a lengthy cylindrical object that I assumed was a spyglass and observe our column thoroughly. He must’ve been the leader of the riders, because he barked an unintelligible order over his shoulder and the two men that were with him rode off, kicking up a tiny cloud of obscured dust in their wake. Further enforcing this concept, he fearlessly rode off by himself towards us. With the outlaws plaguing the south dead or presently our prisoners, I had to presume that this man did not have hostile motivations. Solitary as he might be however, he was an unknown that the others had to be apprised of.
“We’ve got incoming at three o’ clock!” I shouted ahead to the Sheriff, who glanced about in confusion.
“It’s later than that!” The Sheriff erroneously corrected me, “An’ ah can’t see him!” He shouted back, “Are ya sure?”
There was no mistaking it, “Positive! Stop the column! I’ll go see what he wants!” I instructed, yanking on the reins to dissuade my equine companions from trotting another step.
Silverstar called out to his deputies and had them halt. The whole column followed suit as I unhitched North Wind and climbed onto his saddle. I tenderly kicked my heels into him and I rode out to meet our visitor. We met up halfway as the last rays of the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. The man courteously pulled out a torch and lit it with a cigarette he was smoking, before flicking it aside. He was middle aged and had a magnificent walrus mustache. He was clad in the usual western gear of a jacket, vest, and jeans, though he had an epaulet custom sewn onto his shoulder, which I found intriguing. His otherwise ordinary looking Stetson matched the color of his facial hair at a pristine white. His expression was neutral, as though he was guarding his emotions at this development and was anticipating anything. This notion was reinforced by his hand never straying far from his sword sheath, which contained a cavalry sword.
“Howdy” He greeted me in a reserved tone, tipping his hat with his unoccupied hand.
“Pleased to meet you” I mirrored him, though with a friendlier inflection.
He glanced over my shoulder at the column, “Should ah feel the same way?”
“If you’re implying that our intentions might be belligerent, you’d be wrong” I contradicted him swiftly.
He crooked his head as he regarded me, “Ya sound like one of those city slickers from up North, who are you?”
‘Again with the ignorant mislabeling’ I mentally rolled my eyes. Just what was it about me that screamed city boy to those with a country twang?
“I am Agent Zenith, in the service of their Royal Majesties” I answered formally, flashing him my ‘badge’ and widening his eyes, “Who are you?”
“Captain Rockwall of the Frontier Rangers” He introduced himself with a hint of pride and a snappy salute, “Ah assume you’ve heard of us?”
I shook my head, “Nope. Never heard of you until now”
He snorted, “What kinda Agent in these parts doesn’t know about the Rangers? We’re a subdivision of the A.S.M.V armed forces. We keep the peace in the frontier territories as our name implies. We know the lay of the land, its people, and how best to defend ‘em if worse comes to worse” He summarized their role.
“I only started out recently,” I admitted, “though I do believe the Princesses themselves announced my appointment, so you haven’t been keeping up to date yourself” I riposted, “And while I find your background impressive, the question stands… what are you doing here, Captain?”
“The Princesses we both serve have summoned us to the major town of Appleloosa. We’ve been receivin’ disturbin’ reports of troop mobilization in the plains from our airborne scouts as of yesterday. An army of Buffalo Braves is convergin’ on the town as we speak, an’ I don’ think it’s jus’ to chat about the weather” He gesticulated to the column behind me, “My scouts and I thought that this was some sorta flankin’ force deployed to hit us from behind where we’re the weakest, but I doubt ya’d do that much damage to us with mostly women and children doin’ the fightin’” He chuckled, clearly relieved that we were not some hostile army.
“The Buffalo Braves are massing for an offensive? Damn,” I cursed, “I guess the Chief’s hand has been forced to act due to the kidnapping of his own daughter” He did not pledge to me or Braeburn that he would not take drastic measures to respond to that assault on his village. And with his people’s lost loved ones only dozens of miles out, his timing of this could not have been poorer.
“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?” His brow furrowed, “And who exactly are these people, anyhow? They sure as hell ain’t settlers!” He jibed. The natives’ state of dress was distinct, even when silhouetted.
“These people you see before you are the main reason the Buffalo Braves are preparing to launch an assault on the town you’ve been assigned to defend” I explained, “I was sent here to uncover their whereabouts and return them to their families before they began getting ornery, which I’m late for as it is. We will be cutting it close, but I think if we rush to them now, we can persuade the Buffalo Braves to stand down. How many are they?”
“‘Bout four thousand, if the reports are accurate” He didn’t seem too concerned, “I have over a thousand men mahself settin’ up perimeter defenses, aided by whoever the Governor scrounged up to bear arms while he hides behind the thick walls of his mansion” He scoffed, not abiding cowardly politicians, “The savages will hafta go through us first afore they set fire to the town, and Frontier Rangers don’t fold easily”
“If you value preserving the peace, you will refer to them as Natives or Buffalo Braves from now on” I reprimanded him, “How long do you estimate we have until they attack?”
He frowned, “Maybe a few hours or so. It’s hard to verify. Their vanguard is already within spittin’ distance, jus’ waitin’ for their Chief to give the order an’ harass us, like they did when my men and I took the troop train here. The town of Appleloosa was almost sacked once before, an’ we weren’t there to do anythin’ ‘bout it. This time is different, as we’re here to prevent that from happenin’” He patted the curved sword at his side, “But if you say that this matter can be resolved without blood bein’ spilt, then ah’m all fer helpin’ y’all accomplish that”
“Excellent. Then I would appreciate it if you could escort us into town” I suggested to him, “I’d rather not have to have this conversation again with somebody else because you aren’t there”
“Us?” His horse pawed at the hardpan and snorted impatiently, “Who’ll be accompanyin’ you?”
“Only the single most important native in our little column” I vaguely enlightened him as I had North Wind spin on his hooves and gallop back to the cavalcade, to Strongheart’s wagon specifically.
“Zenith? To whom were you speaking to?” She piped up curiously as I settled alongside her cart.
“There is no time to really tell you in detail” I offered her my hand, “You must ride with me” I curled my fingers at the native girl twice, “Chop chop!”
She was stupefied, “You know I cannot leave my people unattended!”
“None of that will matter if you don’t come with me now” I wiggled my hand to emphasize the urgency, “Your people have assembled an army and are bound for Appleloosa, where your beloved is in the process of recovering, if I recall”
“What!? Oh no…” She looked to the blank eyed people resting in the cart’s rear, “But what of them? With no one to drive the cart-”
“Let Applejack take care of that” I interrupted her, “Our supply carts have reached the end of their usefulness anyways” I signaled with an illumination spell to the aforementioned country girl and pointed to Strongheart’s seat before making a flicking motion with both hands. She got the message and disembarked, jogging over to our position.
“Where are you two goin’?” Applejack asked, settling into her new seat as Strongheart sidled over to me.
“We’re going to town” I told her, “Appleloosa is in danger. Jus’ have the others move as fast as they can. Time is of the essence!” She was anxious now, but gallantly agreed to obey my instructions.
Strongheart reluctantly took hold of my hand and I effortlessly pulled her over until she was sitting behind me, “Hold on tight. I’m going to put North Wind through his paces” I rubbed at his neck, “You ready to do your thing, pal?”
He whinnied in agreement and showed us the meaning of haste. Captain Rockwall preemptively rotated his horse around and did the same, acting as our guide to town in the low light conditions (the typically brilliant moon was blocked by the clouds) of the evening. Strongheart did as she was told and held on tight, though she did not bury her face in the space between my shoulders as a headrest or anything personal. She was to be an officially married woman after all, once this blew over. Once we caught up to him, the Frontier Ranger scrutinized my plus one with his torch (which was remarkably still burning in the brisk draft) to see if he recognized her, but I couldn’t surmise if he did.
It was a tense couple of hours for the both of us. For Strongheart it was a rerun of history she was intimate with, though with greater consequences should her people storm the town. For me it was high stakes game of ‘get the girl to her influential father before a lot of people got injured or worse’. There was also the inexplicably sudden manifestation of the Frontier Rangers. The Captain (who I assumed was a local based off of his telltale accent) mentioned that they came into town via train, which was risky these days due to the Buffalo Braves preying on the rail lines.
But this outright show of force on their part (not including the rogue Wild Bull’s massacre of the wagon train) was a worrisome omen indeed. Celestia must have been hedging her bets in case I failed to guarantee a peaceful negotiation (sensible of her, but her lack of absolute faith in me twinged a tad, not that I would blame her), and now the kiddie gloves had been taken off. I had Smoky turned in to the Buffalo Braves, but he must’ve lied with his last, failing breath and assigned the blame on the Appleloosans. If I couldn’t deliver Strongheart to her father in time and get her to convince him that the settlers were truly innocent of all allegations of kidnapping, there would be hell to pay.
We arrived to a scene like a miniature version of the night preceding the taking of Osgiliath and the subsequent siege of Minas Tirith afterwards. The town was alight with lamps suspended on strings that intersected the entirety of the town’s layout. Men with torches could be seen going about the defenses (which were legitimate breastworks with sharpened spikes facing outwards, unlike the slipshod barriers that the outlaws slapdashedly erected to hamper us) and carrying arms to their comrades. I had to admit… the Frontier Rangers knew their stuff. With the stout, angular setup of the defenses, any charge on the town would be funneled into one of three killzones with crisscrossing lanes of fire, and the spikes impeded any cavalry from vaulting over those defenses without risking impalement. From the deficiency of torches indicating a lack of manpower, only the eastern end of town seemed to be vulnerable to exploitation. I could now understand why the Captain and his scouts were monitoring us, as this was the general direction from which we were descending on the settlement.
A glow opposite the town and surmounted on a western high ground pinpointed the location of the Buffalo Braves, though the darkness combined with the distance prevented me from precisely making them out. The concentrated brightness from their torches relative to the town indicated that they already outnumbered the defenders by a significant margin. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn’t help but admire their promptness. The Natives had mustered up a formidable armed fighting force from their neighboring sub-tribes fairly quickly, and I knew from personal experience that their warriors were no cravens, nor were they weak. If they could be gained as allies, they would make for powerful friends stationed inside of Arcania’s borders. I shook my head of that premature notion.
‘One step at a time, buddy boy. They have come to you as enemies first’ I mused.
“Sweet Celestia, would ya look at that” The Captain muttered from beside us, “There weren’t that many of ‘em when I left to conduct some reconnaissance with mah boys earlier. It’s gettin’ mighty dire out there”
“You didn’t seem worried when we conversed about it” I commented.
“It’s one thing to discuss sumthin’ while miles removed from it, and another doin’ so within’ sight of it” He pointed to the imposing defenses, “You see those? Each of those is manned by hundreds of mah boys. Ah’m responsible for each an’ every single one of ‘em. They’re valiant men who have fathers, mothers, wives, siblin’s, sons, and daughters waiting for ‘em at home. If this fragile peace is lost and the sav-… Buffalo Braves converge on the town? It will be war, and it is a safe bet that many of mah troops will perish in the ensuin’ conflict” He bleakly predicted their fates.
“You seem afraid” It wasn’t a question.
“Don’t question mah bravery, Agent” He brusquely replied, “Each an’ every one of us is ready to dearly give our lives in defense of our people, but ah’m not so willin’ to sell those lives at the drop of a hat”
“And if I can persuade my father to relent from indulging in his rage, you won’t have to” Strongheart interjected, “But why do we linger? Each moment lost brings us closer to warfare!”
“Lady has a pertinent point” Rockwall acknowledged, “C’mon. Let’s getcha into town so we can decide how we want to do this”
She disapproved of this, “Why not meet with my people now? So that we may settle this sooner?”
“Oh by all means, just ride up to their command tent like nothin’ is the matter” The Captain sarcastically retorted before scowling, “If we had men watchin’ all vectors of approach, why wouldn’t they? You get within a hundred yards of them from any direction that ain’t overt and they’ll fill ya with arrows” He shrugged, “It’s what ah’d do”
This was sobering news to Strongheart, “Perchance it would be wiser to address this issue with caution” I felt her squeeze her arms around me, “Though I believe Agent Zenith will devise a worthy solution” She expressed her faith in me, afflicting me with a minor case of the warm fuzzies.
“I may have something in mind” I averred, “Though I do like to keep my options open”
“A prudent policy” The Captain told me, “Wait here for a moment. I had some of mah men ride ahead to inform the town about yer wagon column. If they see us ride to ‘em in a group, they might think us a raidin’ party and sound the alarm. Mah archers could pick flies off a wall with their aim if’n they wanted to” Without waiting for permission, he galloped to his men, waving his torch above his head to signal to his men.
While he was notifying his troops about our presence, Strongheart spoke to me in a voice uneven with inner qualms, “If we do not succeed in getting my people to relent, what will you do, Zenith?”
Her real question was whether or not I would fight and kill her people in order to defend the Arcanian citizens in the town. And I would, if need be (Although I would have to perform at full Trifect output when dealing with so many foes, but that would be as a last resort). But that was why I was endeavoring to secure a ceasefire before the fires started raging.
“Whatever I must” I answered her solemnly.
“Forgive me for spouting uncertainty about our mutual conviction” She humbly requested, “I just-…”
I cut her off as gently as I could, “You have apprehension about the unpredictability of the future, I get that. You’re only human, Strongheart. But whereas my name has a degree of ambiguity… yours fits you to a tee. You have a big heart and an Agape love for everyone to match that heart. I can see why Braeburn adores you so much” Their kids might be a little on the darker side though.
“Our wedding!” She exclaimed, “In all of the chaos that’s been occurring I had all but forgotten about it!” She glanced over to her people’s encampment, “But how could I selfishly think about our uninitiated wedding when our people are at each other’s throats?”
“Prioritize, Strongheart” I advised her, “We have to ensure peace between our two peoples at this juncture, and then you can get hitched”
“Hitched?” She parroted, “As in to a cart?”
“Uh, not quite. It’s an informal term for getting married formally” I elucidated, raising an eyebrow at her lack of knowledge of said term.
“I have read through most of Miss Jubilee’s personal library, and I have never come across such a term before” From her tone I imagined that she was grimacing. Perhaps she hadn’t read enough books. Or perhaps Cherry wasn’t one of those women who were obsessed with steamy romance novels, despite her flirty first impressions.
The Captain had communicated favorably with his men and they dispatched a quartet of riders to retrieve us with him at the fore.
“Alright!” He shouted once he was close, “You’re clear to enter the town. Keep on our tails and don’t stray!”
We obeyed, maintaining formation with the four horsemen. His men rode abreast of us and to our rear, whether to function as a shield or to obviate us from deviating to a course not of their choosing was unknown. We galloped towards the outskirts and I could make out the activity taking place within the town with sharper clarity. Men were scurrying about in various states of alacrity and animated energy. If I didn’t know differently, I would say that these men were looking forward to a good scrap with the Buffalo Braves. A foolish idea, but I imagine that they didn’t get many opportunities to collectively flex their muscles like this.
Experienced as these men must have been to become Frontier Rangers, I suspected that the majority of them had not seen the blood and guts kind of affair that a no holds barred battle was. Only their Captain seemed to have a grimness on his face that appropriately matched the atmosphere, mayhaps he actually knew what I did. The windows on the buildings were in the middle of being nailed over with planks and the citizens who weren’t assisting in the defense locked themselves indoors, many of them grousing about ‘moving somewhere out of reach of the vicious locals’. Some had even barred their doors and moved furniture in front of them, which was a terrible idea if any of those ‘vicious locals’ made it inside the perimeter and felt like razing those buildings to their foundations. Thankfully the town was not in the grips of widespread panic, and I deduced that the presence of the Rangers had to do with that.
Their horses must’ve been temporarily expropriated from the local stables for official usage, because every three in ten men were mounted. The men on horseback weren’t even dedicated cavalry, but mounted coordinators seeing to the buildup of the breastworks. Unlike the westernized wear of their Captain, the Rangers under his command had bronze colored armor similar in style to the Royal Guard, though it protected less of their body. This sacrifice in protection granted them some extra mobility however, and these men moved with grace and purpose. Their armaments consisted of short javelin like spears, longer anti cavalry pikes, Xiphos swords, and a hearty amount of Spritewood bows (those must have been expensive to equip the unit with), crossbows, and innumerable arrows. Most of the defense seemed focused on ranged combat, which made sense when the breastworks were taken into account. If the Buffalo Braves got near enough to engage you in hand to hand combat, you’d done a poor job of fending them off.
“Strongheart, is that you?” Came the familiar voice of Braeburn as we progressed into town. His left arm was in a sling, and in defiance of his injury he was busy lugging along a man sized log for the nascent and unfinished eastern breastworks on his shoulder; likely against the Doctor’s orders. The stubbornness inherent in the Apple family was legendary.
“Braeburn!” Strongheart hopped off the saddle and immediately rushed to embrace him, startling him and nearly causing him to drop the log. The white whiskered Captain was annoyed by this interruption, but he hadn’t the heart to separate the young lovers on the eve of potential battle.
He looked pained that he was unable to return her loving affection with a bum arm and his other occupied at the moment, “Ah’m so relieved yer alright. What did those slobberin’ brigands do to ya!?” He demanded, seeing the marks of abuse on her body.
“I was subject to Mister Flam’s hospitality” She growled, “He and his brother are behind the kidnappings of my people!”
“Flam?” He echoed, his face contorting in recollection, “Ya mean the shady snake oil salesman mah cousin hates with a passion?”
“The very same” I answered for her, “How are you doing, partner? You took a bad hit back in Tumbledown”
“I’ve been better, ah’ll tell ya” He admitted, “Woke up to some searin’ pain in mah arm and the bothersome news that the natives were seen assemblin’ an army in almos’ the same exact spot as they did in the past. Then the Rangers came in and ordered the Governor to put the whole town into lockdown while they prepped the fortifications. They wanted every able bodied man to shore up the defenses, so ah felt it was mah duty to volunteer, Doc’s chicken-shit orders to rest be damned. The Doc told me that you dragged mah sorry butt to his clinic, and that ya also did a decent job pluckin’ the shrapnel from mah wound”
“I’m no combat medic,” I melodramatically laid a hand on my chest, “but I deemed it my duty to return you to health, and then return your beloved to you”
“An’ fer that I am forever in yer debt, pardner” He gratefully dipped his head to me, “Lemme jus’ drop this off where the Rangers can put it to use and we can hunker down at mah place to let them sort this all out”
His duty to his beloved superseded his duty to his townsfolk. Oh Braeburn, if only your cousin could educate you in the art of singular determination without compromising your standards.
“Hunker down?” I gawked at him in disbelief, “Braeburn, we didn’t come here to cower, we came to fight for what’s right”
“An’ what is right? What are ya fightin’ for?” He quizzed me.
‘Truth, Justice, and the American way’ I thought in my mind, but refused to share aloud.
“I tried fightin’ once, and look what it did fer me!” He inclined his neck in the direction of the native encampment, “We got a whole army of Buffalo Braves about to bear down on us… again! And yer idea is to drag the love of mah life into the flame!?”
Strongheart caressed his cheeks in her hands, “Do not fret, my love. History may repeat itself, but the outcome of this misunderstanding will not be what you fear” She bravely portrayed herself to bolster her beau’s confidence. That was one of Strongheart’s most redeeming features, being able to embolden others in spite of her own doubts.
“Ya can’t be thinkin’ of goin’ out there and confrontin’ them, are ya?” He was distressed, “You’re on the wrong side of the fence this time, Strongheart! There’s gotta be thousands of ‘em out there! If yer out in the open when they attack, you could die!”
She detached from him, resolution present in her demeanor, “If that is the risk I must take fighting in the name of peace, then so be it. Know that whatever happens, I’ll love you always” She kissed him with finality.
I observed this hammy exhibition of emotion with a hidden smirk. Did Strongheart forget about the magically empowered Agent looming over her? I had several disparate and clandestine ways I could sneak her into her people’s encampment without being noticed, some of which weren’t even rooted in magic! Still, it was amusing to see how dramatic these people could get when they believed everything they treasured was on the line. I had a abrupt epiphany that I was nothing like them. Sure it was problematic that these two forces were about to clash over a misconception, but it wasn’t a be all and end all element that could not be overcome through an application of effort on my part. Failure simply didn’t factor into it for me. But to ordinary mortals like Braeburn and Strongheart, their livelihoods were at stake. If it came to blows, then they could never be married to each other and be accepted by either group as a legitimate couple for as long as they lived.
It was a sobering concept for me… that I would still be around when these people were dust (Assuming this ominous Great Dissonance didn’t consume the world and all that was pure within it before that). Hell, if I was jaded now, then what would I be like a century from now? Or two centuries? Or even a millennium like their highnesses? It was no wonder why Celestia viewed her subjects like her children. In her aged eyes, they were relatively newborn one moment, and sagging and decrepit the next. The passage of time did not have the same meaning to one who did not age as opposed to one who did. I ceased thinking about it before I got broody for no reason.
Strongheart climbed into the saddle behind me during my musing, ignoring the weakened protests of her lover, “Let us go, Zenith” Then she spoke in a whisper, “It is… too painful for me to remain here”
I obliged, clicking my tongue and urging North Wind to follow the Captain’s steed as he chaperoned us into the western quarter of town. The man had watched the lovers’ exchange silently, but if he had any opinions about the ethnicities of each, he politely kept them to himself. We passed by a fair number of Appleloosans who regarded Strongheart with suspicious glances and some outright glares of distrust, which aggravated her self consciousness. The only obstacle obstructing them from assailing us were the Rangers, who warded them off with stern words of warning when they got menacingly close. When grilled by the untrusting populace they cited official diplomatic reasons for Strongheart’s presence in their soon to be besieged town. I approved of this shrewd thinking, and knew that the Captain and I had that sense of discretion in common. The free space at the western end of town had been converted into a field headquarters for the Captain and his men, who all saluted smartly whenever they saw him pass on by.
This was one of the few opportunities I had to behold the military discipline of Arcania’s armed forces, and so far I was not displeased. The men were orderly, obeisant and respectful of their superiors, and I somehow knew they would not break when put to the test. They were regimented too, with a Lieutenant on horseback intermittently reporting in to the Captain about the combat preparedness of the one hundred men they commanded. Women were oddly absent from the ranks, despite their gender forming five sixths of this country’s population. I wasn’t sure if this world conventionally employed men to wage wars or if there was a strict no gender mingling policy that countered having heterogeneous military units composed of males and females. I had yet to see a single woman in uniform (The time I first met Luna when she was in her officer’s uniform didn’t count), so the impression I was getting from that belonged to the former category.
Mana Marks for men were obscured on their clothed (and in this case, armored) shoulders, as was juxtaposed to the openness of their female counterparts, who had them proudly displayed on the backs of their hands, so I couldn’t gauge how suitable these men were for the job. As they were participating in the army, one could only assume that their talents were related to combat and the like. Arcania may not have had a large standing force (merely fifty thousand regulars dispersed throughout the nation, with another fifty thousand being slowly pulled from the population and discreetly trained. This was as per my readiness plans contrived in secret with Celestia and later shared with Luna, with the old war hawk concurring), but I could bet that there were few that could match their effectiveness in the field. However, natural talent was like a freshly forged blade still hot from the fires. Without the whetstone of experience to hone its edge, it was dull and not as effectual as it was required to be.
We hitched our horses and followed the man into his domain. Captain Rockwall’s headquarters was basically a Romanesque tent capable of fitting a war table with a map of the surrounding region and wooden sculptures representing allied and enemy troops. Lanterns hanging from posts flickeringly illuminated the space from all four corners of the tent. We stopped at the table and I reviewed what was depicted on its surface. Appleloosa had a lone marble carving of a royal guard erected over its name and topography (Illustrated with contouring sketch lines of varying shades denoting elevation or relief in the terrain). Right to the west were four crudely (and probably recently) fashioned models of Buffalos snarling angrily at the town and elevated on a set of timber blocks to demonstrate their disconcerting high ground advantage, which discouraged counterattacks. His aide-de-camps welcomed him warmly and offered us refreshments of sparkling water, which we amiably declined.
“So, Rockwall” I said as I pored over the war table, “Let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? What is your game plan?”
“Sir?” One of the aide-de-camps uttered in befuddlement at my direct addressing of their Commander.
“It’s fine, Mineral Blitz, he’s a Royal Agent. You may both leave us” He excused them, and they made themselves scarce.
“Mah plan is purely defensive. As ya can clearly see,” He swept his hand over the table, “we jus’ don’ have the manpower to mount any sorties without sufferin’ unacceptable casualties, and that would be a provocative act of war anyhow. At least with the defenses in place, we can inflict enough damage on them that they’d think twice about pillagin’ this town”
He sighed, “There are already two thousand or so overlookin’ us as we speak. And that’s jus’ their vanguard. There’s another two thousand less than half a day from them. If they don’ attack us now, then you can rest assured that they will in the mornin’ once they’re at full force!”
‘Why haven’t they launched probing raids on the defenses yet? Is the Chieftain posturing? Or waiting for his total strength so he can overwhelm us with sheer numbers?’ I had no idea what sort of tactician he was.
“We’re outnumbered, that much is obvious” I tapped at the map, “But there are apple orchards between us and them that will bottleneck them if they attack from the west. Is Appleloosa the only town that’s being ganged up on?” It seemed like an unrelated question, but it was relevant for similar reasons.
“As of today, yes” He bobbed his head once, “But as for tomorrow, or next week? Circumstances might drastically change. And there’s a path through those groves that leads straight into the western bulwark” He traced back and forth at the spot with his finger, “How do ya plan on gettin’ the Chieftain’s daughter past his sentries without them featherin’ her with arrows?”
I turned to my current companion, “Do your people understand what a white flag means?”
The Captain immediately disagreed, “Surrender is not an option here! For all you know, they might use that as an excuse to invade the town!”
On that I agreed with him, “I’m not talking about surrendering, I’m talking about a temporary truce. They wouldn’t be as liable to let their arrows loose if they saw a minuscule delegation heading towards them. They’re not so intractable that they’d kill a non threatening diplomatic party without demonizing themselves”
“This is the truth. Those who nefariously shed innocent blood are held accountable by the Great Spirit in the hereafter. And our people do not recognize flags, Zenith, as we do not have a need for them” Strongheart informed me, “Though we are not completely ignorant to their meaning either, having observed your people using them for some time ourselves” She commented with a slight glare leveled at the Captain, who actually had the grace to shrink back in shame.
“There is no glory for warriors to strike down unarmed opponents if they present themselves to them in such small numbers. I believe we will be able to visit their camp with this method, but it can only be us” She specified, “No one else may accompany us without increasing the chance that my people will retaliate violently. I can speak for my people and you must speak for yours. You have also fought against my kin at one juncture, Zenith. There will be men there who will remember your deeds in the heat of battle, and those stories will disseminate amongst our tribe from the warriors who saw what you were capable of” She smiled somewhat maliciously, “You stood toe to toe with Wild Bull and humbled him. That did not go unnoticed, I assure you”
I snorted, “He relied on brute force to overpower his opponents. He thought with his muscles, not his brain. I defeated him handily”
She clutched a fist to her chest, “Our people value individual strength. Your voice, though belonging to those that they perceive as an enemy, will have weight”
“Ya’ve tussled with these people before, Agent? Color me impressed” The Captain remarked disparagingly, “I thought you city slickers fussed over havin’ a single hair out of place”
I ignored the offhand jab, “I also fought for them” I announced, surprising them both, “When Strongheart’s village was reft and she was plucked from her home, I put down as many outlaws as I could shoot until the Chief could rally his men and oust the rest”
“You did?” Strongheart self debasingly shook her head, “Of course you did. You’ve had such an impact on our tribe that it is quite likely that my father will meet with no other Arcanian, with perhaps the exception of my beloved, though he is too afraid to join us. He fears my father, and he must believe himself responsible for allowing my kidnapping. Oh Braeburn,” She murmured to herself, “you are not a warrior, and you don’t need to be, not in my eyes”
“Would it be possible for you to spare some men capable of driving wagons?” I politely requisitioned to the Captain in a tone that lorded my position over his own, “Even if we can convince the Buffalo Braves to lay idle on that hill, they will want their loved ones returned to them right away”
“I can’t do that, Agent” He resisted me, “I need every man at his post. Besides, any movement en masse out of the town could be disastrously misconstrued by the natives”
“Not in the direction we came in on. Listen to me, Captain” I leveled with him, “Twenty men and some horses won’t make the difference should negotiations fail. Sure you’ll make the natives pay for every inch of ground, but they have the motivation and the manpower to raze Appleloosa twice over before sunrise”
“I think ya overestimate their chances!” He huffed, taking insult at the implied assessment of his soldiers, “We’re dug in hard, and they’ll have a hell of a time diggin’ us out!”
“But you haven’t faced these men before, have you?” He scowled, but his silence confirmed that he didn’t know his enemy that well in this case, “They don’t fight in standard formations. Each man fights more or less for his own glory and the opportunity to collect scalps. And because their warrior tradition is so fixated on personal glory, they fight harder than you’d think. A seasoned warrior is easily the equal of three untrained Agrarian men, maybe four. Your defenses and structured units will only hold them off so long. Once they break, and they will after enduring the might of two thousand or more native warriors, your men will become disorganized and will retreat pell-mell. Buffalo Braves have no qualms with hurtling tomahawks into the spines of withdrawing opponents that they’ve engaged”
“Have ya seen their tactics?” The Captain questioned, “What can ya tell me about their strategies?”
“Only in a smaller scale. And they seemed to relent from the attack after I held their war leader hostage” The Braves may have fought for vengeance and glory, but they had a chain of command like us.
“So if ya were to clasp hands with their Chieftain…” The Captain began deviously.
“Don’t even suggest it” I eyed Strongheart warily, “It’s rather distasteful in our present company, don’t you think?” He shut up after that, conceding the point.
It flew over her head, thanks to her comparative inexperience with double meaning, “I do not understand. Why would shaking hands with my father be an unacceptable gesture?”
“I’ll shake hands with him after we restore his daughter to him and only if he offers” I placated her.
“So all our hopes are pinned on you talkin’ them out of violence?” The Captain was unhappy with that, “At least I ain’t the one chancin’ his health if things go south”
I smirked, “That’s right, Rockwall, focus on the positives. Us young folks gotta retain our ideals and dare to push the envelope when it comes to making progress”
He chuckled, “If you were one of mah boys, I’d tan yer hide until you minded that cheeky tongue of yers. Ah’ll see what I can do about expeditin’ the transport of her people, but it’ll take time that you hafta buy fer us” He saluted me, “May the Princesses smile upon your endeavors out there, Agent Zenith”
With that, he left us to give out the orders for twenty of his men to commandeer whatever wheeled vehicles they could find and to hitch their horses to them before sending them off to find our wagon column and expedite their transition across the desert flats. I improvised with a stained dining sheet stuffed into the Captain’s footlocker storage trunk and an unlit torch to create a white flag that we would use to signal our willingness to negotiate with the natives. It was a ratty dining cloth, so I presumed that the Captain wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it. Strongheart and I then shared a glass of the Captain’s whiskey (for additional courage, I explained to her) before we remounted North Wind to head off ourselves. We were about to search for the exit when two riders trotted over to us.
“You two are the Royal Agent and the Native woman, yes?” One of them asked in a professional, guarded voice.
“Might be” I replied tersely, “Who’s asking?”
“Your escort” The other of the two riders responded, “The Captain ordered us to take you halfway to the Buffalo Brave’s camp. It’s formal courtesy for a member of their Highnesses’ Agency to have an entourage when departing from an army encampment. You are an extension of their Majesties’ will, and it would be remiss of us not to protect you in sight of the men”
“It must only be us seen advancing on them, Zenith, or our mission will be endangered” Strongheart nudged at me, not approving of this courtesy.
“That is why we will be turning back at the designated halfway point” The first one reiterated, quick to pick up the slack, “The apple orchards between the two camps will aid us in being unseen before then”
I wasn’t about to turn down another helpful escort, “Very well” I then motioned for them to lead the way.
We cantered to a thin gap between the breastwork defenses that was wide enough for a man on horse to slip through without risking harm. Pike men vigilantly minded this weak spot however, so there was no danger of it being the chink in an otherwise sturdy armor encapsulating the town. The vaunted apple orchards that comprised the majority of Appleloosa’s exportable products were no different from Sweet Apple Acre’s groves; only these trees grew in sandier soil and were slightly stunted to compensate for the lack of scheduled hydration. Thinking about the Magiville based farm made me wonder which of these trees might be Applejack’s precious Bloomberg, and then the idyllic tangent took a turn for the worse when I envisioned this same orchard in flames from the Buffalo Brave’s assault. The price of failure would be steep indeed if Strongheart’s homecoming was not sufficient to stay the execution.
The woman in the saddle with me was quiet, likely debating what to say to her father and the other tribal leaders in order to persuade them that the Arcanian settlers were innocent without being seen as biased, as she was in love with one herself. Braeburn should have been with us too, but with how displeased Chief Thunderfeet was with him for losing his only daughter to the outlaws, mayhaps he needed time to cool off first. Our escorts kept their attention focused on our surroundings, scanning the orchard for any signs of skirmishing natives hiding in the woods. We traveled without a lamp or anything to light our path, but our escorts must’ve been familiar with the area, since we reached the halfway point sooner than I would have guessed.
“This is where we part ways, Agent” One of them declared, giving me a two fingered valedictory salute, “We’ll be eagerly awaiting your return”
“Hopefully with good news… and your head still attached to your shoulders” Lefty (as I decided to call him for his placement) whispered to himself, earning him a reproachful smack on the head from righty.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I chortled at his lighthearted comment, “I appreciate the vote of confidence. You boys take care!”
The two riders clandestinely disappeared into the night and Strongheart and I continued our trek up the hill towards the natives’ encampment by ourselves. I kept my eyes peeled, watching for any sentinels or lookouts that might spot us. I handed the rolled up white flag to Strongheart for her to hold. I would need both hands for the reins if I had to make North Wind dance around arrow showers. We must have been stealthier than I gave us credit for, because it wasn’t until we were within smelling range of a chunk of buffalo meat on a spit roast that we were detected by a warrior who was stringing his bow by the wayside. He shouted in his native tongue and soon we were swarmed by dozens of them pouring out of their tents. Each of them was angrily spitting at us in their harsh language. But they weren’t trying to aerate us with arrows, so there was that.
Strongheart sheepishly waved the white flag in a figure eight. She comprehended that her voice would not be heard over the din, so she didn’t even bother speaking until they bothered to listen. I meanwhile was visually scouring the natives’ camp for anything remotely resembling the command tent, though the Buffalo Braves did not distinguish their mobile shelters based on rank, so it was more irksome for me to do than it should have been. Most of the control I had over the situation was deprived from me when one of the men seized North Wind’s reins and began to forcibly lead him where he wanted. I could work with this. I surmised that the man was taking us to his leaders for them to make heads or tails of our little visit.
The natives’ encampment was larger than the Rangers’, but also simpler. Although the wigwams, teepees, and longhouses that were present in their main village were portable (as the natives had a nomadic culture), very primitive and easy to assemble structures had to be employed for massed excursions like this. For a rapid response by their army, they had to rely on buffalo and deer hide tents supported by sticks to shelter them from the natural elements. Circles of these tents would encompass one big bonfire that was used for cooking and lighting by fifty or so men. The men themselves were prepared for a fight. They were decked out in bone armor, had the strangest array of war paint designs for their faces, and looked mean as hell in general. Honor was the only thing stopping them from killing us then and there. If things got ugly, I would be hard pressed to fight my way out of this under normal circumstances.
The Brave conducting us into the interior of the native camp stopped before a tent (whose only distinguishing feature was that it was spacious compared to the others) and poked his head inside to speak to one of its inhabitants. An older man with a clipped ponytail and peculiar war paint pattern (half of his face white and the other black with his ocular pits being the opposite shades for extra contrast) emerged, staring us down with narrowed eyes brimming with hatred. Strongheart must have recognized this man, because I could feel her recoil and lean behind me instinctively for protection. The man walked until he was beside us and spoke to her in an unfriendly sounding tone. I cast a bidirectional translational spell and those grating chirps of foreign verbiage became intelligible words in my mind’s ear.
“You bring a hated milkskin into our midst?” He hissed, “You dishonor our people, Strongheart, consorting with the enemy like this. You father never listened to my warnings, but I see it in your eyes. You value them above your own kin!”
“I have done no such thing!” She objected, tearing up at the hurtful words, “Our people can coexist, we must look past our differences and live together in harmony! As they do!”
“You have even adopted their pitiful ideology” He sneered, “We live by strength and strength alone! Without your poisonous influence to cloud his mind, your hesitant father has finally seen wisdom and sought justice for himself. He has gathered the best of our warriors to wreak our vengeance upon them! Starting with Appleloosa” He jeered.
He pointed to me, “And as for you! I don’t know what foul sorcery allowed you to defeat my son in combat without that coward’s Thunder-Horror weapon… but it will not avail you against me!” He unsheathed a jagged dagger of what I believed was obsidian and grabbed it with his other hand, cutting into it down to the bone. He didn’t so much as cringe at the pain, so I knew that this man was no stranger to it.
‘An important figure, angered by my besting his son in combat? This must be the venerated Standing Bull’ I deduced. No other warrior’s pops had the clout that this man did. What were the chances we’d stumble into his allotment of the camp? This universe loved to test me, it seemed.
He then held out the hand and let the blood drip onto the ground, “You may not be one of our tribe or understand what I say, ignorant foreigner, but the Great Spirit knows my rage is potent, and will abide by this pledge. One of us will die this night”
“So be it” I replied in his own tongue, causing those around us to murmur with interest and faint shock that the ignorant foreigner was not so ignorant after all. I dismounted from North Wind and the congregation took a few steps back to give us some room. There wasn’t even a peep out of Strongheart. This death oath thing could not be overturned, so she could only bear witness.
I studied my opponent carefully as one of his underlings fetched him a duplicate of a Macuahuitl sword baton, which was essentially a wooden stick with over a dozen razor sharp prismatic obsidian blades embedded into its sides. He gave it some practice whirls to familiarize himself with the weight. A weapon like that had serious lacerating potential even if it glanced, so I had to be heedful during this duel. Standing Bull was roughly as muscular as his son was, but this man would not be as foolish in battle, and would study me for weaknesses too. I was out of bullets for Dee-Dee, so I couldn’t ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ my way out of this one. If I had Dichotomy, I could dice this man into neat chunks regardless of how fearsome a warrior he was. That left me with two tactical options, my hidden blades, and my Tantō, both of which I was comfortable with using. One of the Buffalo Braves moved to give me a weapon to duel with, but he was stopped by Standing Bull, who imperiously waved him off.
“He is warrior enough to triumph over my son, is he not?” He posited, “Let us determine how well he fights with what he has”
We stared each other down for fifteen seconds afterwards before Standing Bull attacked first. He closed the gap between us and swung his Macuahuitl overhead, which I ducked underneath as I drew my Tantō and held it in my usual reverse grip. In spite of wielding a bladed, dense piece of wood four feet in length, Standing Bull could swing his weapon as effortlessly as if it was a baseball bat. I had to pull off some mad dives and combat rolls to avoid being carved in half as he swiped at me like a madman. I wasn’t able to counter him as often as I would have liked, since he knew his footwork intimately. He feinted expertly and jabbed the Macuahuitl at my face, slicing into my left cheek and getting first blood. The instant I felt the obsidian kiss me, my magic was temporarily disrupted, which I found as interesting as it was alarming. It ceased once he withdrew his weapon and prepared for another string of attacks. I palmed at the gushing wound and concluded that while it wasn’t superficial, it wouldn’t be debilitating either.
His small victory was emboldening him though, and that made his next moves recklessly sloppy. I counterattacked below the belt, where Standing Bull’s defense was lacking; scoring a punch to his pelvis that sapped the pride right out of him. He retaliated by rotating his baton sword like a windmill, forcing me to consider a new avenue of approach. I wedged by Tantō between the obsidian teeth of the Macuahuitl and punched him again with my left hand in the face. Since this was a true duel to the death, I held nothing back. Teeth went flying as he stumbled backwards, the front portion of his face caved in where his mouth was. He was swallowing a river of his own blood, but he was not deterred. He rushed me and tried to cleave me in twain with an overhead chop. I barely hopped back in time, and his blade clipped the floor, chipping off a few fragments of the fragile obsidian glass. I swiftly used my foot to flip the baton onto its flat end and pin it while snapping it into two with my other foot.
With a throaty growl, he tossed the broken Macuahuitl to the side and withdrew his obsidian dagger. Without his baton sword to ward me off though, countering him in close quarters was second nature to me. I slapped, parried, and blocked his dagger hand while smacking him with my unequipped palm to disorient him and score a few deep gashes in manifold regions that oozed lifeblood like open elongated sores. No matter how stubborn he was to kill me, his body began to slow from the loss of blood (whereas my healing factor had kicked in and was sealing up my cheek laceration) and it was gradually getting easier to outmaneuver and outfight him. I disarmed him with a heavy handed blow after he attempted to bury his dagger in my neck in a last ditch attempt to end the fight. I ringed my arm into his disarmed one and hugged the defenseless man close to me before commencing a stab party on his abdomen and chest, with the man screaming bloody murder the whole time. He vainly struggled to pull away from me as I laid into him, violently puncturing his bone armor like it was paper and rupturing his vital organs until he was terminated.
The dying tribal leader fell from my arms and slumped onto the earth, a red pool forming from his perforated midsection. I stabbed him so many times that some of his organs were showing through the holes or even sliding out of the wounds in some cases. Even as he breathed his last breath, Standing Bull glared up at me loathingly. Then the light disappeared from his eyes and he was an empty shell, dead to the world forevermore. No one made a sound for several moments, save for my partially elevated breathing rate. I glanced about me, only to find expecting gazes reflected at me, like I was forgetting something important. Eventually their stares were becoming unnerving and I looked to an appalled Strongheart for guidance.
“What are they all staring at me for?” I whispered (absently in the native tongue) as an aside to Strongheart. I won that duel fairly! Or about as fairly as a Trifect with enhanced stats like mine could.
“To complete the death oath, you must lap the blood of your adversary off the blade you used to kill him” She answered, relieved that I had lived and her abusive suitor’s father was no longer a threat to us.
“Oh…” I vacillated, before shrugging, “Okay then” I unabashedly gave the flat of my Tantō a lick from one end of the blade to the other like it was a strawberry popsicle.
‘Mmm… Blood! Ah Ah Ah!’ My inner vampire imitated in Count Von Count’s voice. In reality though, Standing Bull’s blood tasted as bitter as he was when he was alive.
Once the ceremonial gesture was complete, the men assembled here bowed their heads and chanted ‘Blood was owed, blood was spilled. The debt is paid, his life fulfilled’. I idly pondered whether it rhymed in their language too. After that, a quartet of men carried Standing Bull’s corpse into his tent to prepare for honorable burial, while the rest of those gathered around us regarded me stoically, neither cordial nor antagonistic. The unspoken signs of respect were in the air. I had earned my right to be heard by slaying one of their veteran warriors in single combat, like I almost did with his son, and I was going to use it.
“Now…” I started, sheathing my blade with a ‘clack!’, “Unless there is anyone else who desires to face me in the ring of honor, you will take me to see your Chieftain”
And as if the words were magic, a partition formed in the sea of painted faces as the men stepped in reverse to make way for us. I motioned for Strongheart to follow me and she pulled North Wind along by his reins as we progressed even farther into the encampment. Additional natives cropped up from their tents as news of a tribal leader’s death circulated about the war camp. A smattering of native’s recognized their Chieftain’s daughter and wondered why she was in my company, while the proactive ones ran to their Chief to inform him of her reappearance. I also overheard rumors as to what this meant for the sub-tribe’s future now that their leader was deceased and his son comatose (And no, I wasn’t going to revive him out of pity. The bastard tried to scalp me!). It wasn’t my problem, so I tuned all news of that subject out as I meandered towards the Chieftain we needed to speak to so desperately.
Standing Bull’s comments about her father seeing wisdom were cause for some concern though, for if there was legitimate, then this will have been for nothing. But after meeting him, I could see where his brash son got his hot headedness from, so it was equally probable that he was expelling (if you’ll pardon the term) bullshit. The two of us were about to find out as we entered a minor clearing in an otherwise crowded war camp, where the Cheiftain’s teepee was puffing a steady stream of fumes. Strongheart could resist her impulsive urges no further and ran ahead of me, vanishing into the teepee flap to reunite with her father. No wanting to intrude, I waited patiently like the good, not tribal leader slaying guest that I was.
There were huts where slabs of buffalo meat hung by hooks, so it also functioned as the camp’s supply depot. A devious part of my mind calculated the devastation I could do to the native’s ability to sustain a war if their plentiful food stocks were to mysteriously go up in smoke (not much I estimated, as they could just go hunting buffalo to replenish what they had lost, but it would slow them down and buy valuable time for a full scale evacuation of the town), but stowed it as a measure of bitter resort. Efforts for peace had priority, but I would not be merciful if they were rejected to spite all that I had done to rectify the damage they believed they had suffered at the hands of the settlers.
There was a commotion and rumbling of multiple voices from inside the teepee, and then the Chief stormed out of his tent in his unbridled glory. His headdress must’ve been another ceremonial kind that the Grand Chief of the Buffalo Braves donned whenever he rode to war. Each feather was as white as the freshly driven snow and nearly seemed to shine, even in the relatively dim light of the bonfires. His armor incorporated both a bony chest plate and solid wooden strips fastened together in a way that reminded me of Tlingit body armor. Again, seeing him so prepared for battle was an uncomfortable reminder that it was unwise to anger this man. He was unarmed however, and didn’t appear to be spoiling for a fight, though his face remained stern.
He snapped his fingers and the immediate vicinity was vacated of people, “Are you the one responsible for my daughter’s return?” He asked in my basic language, his tone indecipherable.
It took a second for me to mentally switch back to English, “Yes, I am, though I had sources of help to accomplish that”
I had no time to react as he swept me up in a fierce hug. I may have yelped in befuddlement as he lifted me off the ground by a fair number of feet. The Chieftain was a big man, approximately my size but beefier, so being manhandled by him was extremely awkward for me.
The Chieftain laughed joyously, “My gratitude know no bounds, Zenith! Twice my daughter has been pried from me, and twice she has been restored to me by you!”
“That’s superb, Chief Thunderfeet. I’m glad to have done my part” I sincerely expressed as I gawkily patted him on the shoulder, “How much has your daughter told you about her ordeal?”
“Much and more” He frowned, “So we were being deceived for the duration our my people’s kidnappings. This is a troublesome occurrence, Zenith, but also a well timed one. My fellow war council advised me to exact retribution on the settlers after my daughter’s second disappearance, and to deny them was to invite restlessness into my tenure. None will cast doubt on my ability and willingness to convene a war group now, but I do not wish to wage a war on your people, Zenith. We would lose in the end…” He predicted astutely, “…badly. Your Princesses who can influence the Sun and Moon themselves would guarantee it”
“I see. So you got my note then?” I inquired.
“Indeed we did” He confirmed, “Along with two most intriguing gifts. The first gift was obstinate and I assume did not perform as you intended him to before he expired. The second gift went to my household guard, though their uses without a method for replenishing the metal balls and black powder are limited. The one who called himself Smoky Joe seemed dead set on laying blame on the Appleloosans. He was too eager and too vocal, according to my instincts, so I knew this was a falsehood” He was onto the outlaw’s game, “But my council took his words at face value and demanded that I stand by my oath to defend our people from all perceived threats… and so here we are, on the precipice of war, and you have arrived bearing assuaging tidings that may yet save us all. The Great Spirit favors you, young one, though you hardly realize it”
I had nothing to say to that.
He craned his neck at me, “Far be it for me to doubt my own ears and the words of my own flesh and blood, but is my daughter’s report that you bested Standing Bull in a duel of honor authentic?” When I nodded, he mirrored the gesture with subdued deference, “An impressive feat, to be sure. He was among our finest warriors, even at his age. His loss was regrettable, as was the fact that he bore you such ill will. He would have thought twice about challenging you had he known you were touched by the Great Spirit”
“He lived as a warrior, and died like a warrior” I spouted a twist on the biblical axiom ‘live by the sword, and you’ll die by the sword’.
“This is true” He rumbled low in his throat, before looking for somebody who wasn’t there, “Where is Braeburn? Why is he not with you?”
“Braeburn was injured fighting to secure your daughter’s freedom” I fibbed, “He was wounded in the struggle, and his left arm is temporarily out of commission. I left him in Appleloosa so one of the Doctors could tend to his wound while I tracked down the men who stole your daughter and hundreds of your people from you”
“My daughter was evasive about what she witnessed while in their clutches” He narrowed his eyes at me, “I trust that you will fill me in where she did not. Where were my people being held?”
I made sure no undue ears were eavesdropping on us before answering, “At the bottom of a canyon to the southeast of here, many miles off, is a secret goldmine. The outlaws were using them to extract gold from a specific section of that canyon, feeding them some foul concoction of gruel to sap them of their will to resist their captors” I hesitated, “I am unsure how long it will be until they recover themselves (‘If they recover themselves at all, that is’). Some of them… did not make it, I am sorry” I was saddened to inform him.
Thunderfeet’s fists clenched themselves into a white knuckled grip, “Why do you apologize for other men’s atrocities? You did not do this, nor was it done unto you. But as my daughter is alive and well, I surmise that they have been punished for this?”
“All but seven of them are dead” I revealed to him, “They’re in the same cart column we’re using to haul the liberated natives to you. It’s on its way to Appleloosa as we speak”
“They are here!?” He exclaimed, “I must give the order to cancel the assault. I will not have my Braves unwittingly slaughtering their own kin” He unintentionally hinted that even he knew how badly he outnumbered the stalwart defenders of the town.
He retreated into his tent and there was another commotion of hushed voices, accompanied by the booming voice of the Chieftain drowning out all others. Half a minute afterwards, a series of men materialized out of the teepee, ranging from war faced warriors, to wizened elders. Each of them had a distinct manner of dress and demeanor, and I deduced that these men were the Chieftain’s war council, undoubtedly comprised of tribal leaders from all across the plains region they designated as home. But if that was so, then why hadn’t Sitting Bull been in attendance at their meeting? Maybe he and Thunderfeet just didn’t see eye to eye. I did sense something of an underlying tension hidden between them when the now dead man mentioned how the Chief had seen wisdom and rallied his men to lay siege to Appleloosa.
Most of the older men ignored me, but the warriors flashed me dangerous glances that I met evenly as they passed on by. Once they had departed, the Chief invited me inside his tent to discuss the future of the relations between settler and tribal native.
“Father…” Strongheart began, “…does my marriage to Braeburn stand firm?”
“Has the man who has won your heart stood firm by you?” The Chieftain countered pointedly, his arms crossed over his chest.
I was about to remind the Chief that he did fight for her honor, but Strongheart fought her own battles, “He has! He has also shed blood in my name” She neglected to go over the part where he wanted to cower in his home rather than speak to the Braves about peaceful resolution, but no man was perfect, “I will be married to him alone, or remain forever untouched!” She petulantly gainsaid her father.
“Still yourself, my precious child” He held out a placating hand, “I do not annul your marriage to the Arcanian. Your union could be paramount in ensuring that our two peoples never come this close to clashing ever again” He turned to me, “There is a final honor I yearn to bestow upon you, Zenith. We presently have had one Arcanian adopted into our tribe through marriage, and blood relations are a given standard of membership” He plucked a feather from his headdress and cut a superficial slit into his palm with a knife. He soaked the feather in his blood, staining the barbs crimson, before handing it over to me.
“I deem you a Bloodfeather of the Buffalo Braves for your unparalleled service not just to myself, but to our Tribe as well. You came to us in our hour of need, and fought nobly for our brothers and sisters in bondage, though none of us asked you to risk yourself so. As of this night, you are one with us” He enveloped me with his arms a second time, with a bizarre tenderness on this go, “Welcome to the family”
I was pleasantly pleased by this turn of events, “I’m merely doing the right thing as ever, Chieftain, though I must proclaim that I am honored to be properly recognized to you. Will your people be as accepting of me, though?”
He hummed in the affirmative, “My decree is law. To challenge this decree is to challenge me” He stood tall, his bulky musculature emphasizing itself with the motion, “You will be accepted, or I shall teach any naysayers the meaning of tolerance” He cracked his knuckles loudly.
“Now you know how my father adopts others into our tribe” Strongheart squeezed me like a oversized teddy bear, “I embrace you as the brother I wish I had, Zenith” She whispered up into my ear.
I twitched and smiled wanly, ‘My only child instincts are in maximum overdrive’ I petted her on the back robotically, “Can’t say I’ve ever had a sister before” I twisted my neck to the Chief, “I’m still an Arcanian though, you know that, don’t you?”
“Of course!” He bellowed, “But you will always have a place here amongst us. Now we must contemplate as to how we can repair the strained relationship between our people and the Arcanians, and your role will be pivotal in this endeavor” He declared, already referring to me as a fellow tribesman. The man was nothing if not traditionally minded.
And so we conversed on how to initiate the process of healing the rift between settler and native, which was agitated by the previous happenings. I would be the go between for settler and native, delivering information and relaying messages. The government authority of the town was Governor Mansion, though unofficially it was Captain Rockwall in charge. But formalities had to be adhered to, and so once the matter of the ex slaves tangibly producing themselves for their kind was tentatively settled, the Chieftain and the Governor agreed to meet on neutral turf to discuss the possibility of a permanent suspension of hostilities, the establishment of a conventional trade system, and the minor issue of reparations made for the innocent Arcanians who died unjustly like those in the Blood Gulch Massacre. It would be an arduous road, but settlers and natives alike looked to be walking it in sync for the very first time.
Thunderfeet’s war council complied to postpone any plans of attack until it was verified that their kidnapped people were safe and sound. The warriors were wary though, many of them suspecting the news to be some kind of ruse to lure them into a false sense of security. With my newly acquired status of Bloodfeather however, they were less frank about their mistrust of me. Rockwall eventually came through for us on his end, and it was only an hour before a rickety train of wagons was spotted bumping and rolling into town with the ex slaves in tow. I spent ten minutes or so convincing Rockwall that the town wouldn’t be sacked the second he dismantled the barricades to allow for the natives to be sent back to their people.
Negotiations were a cinch once the Buffalo Braves had their wives, sons, and daughters back in their loving arms. There were some warriors in Thunderfeet’s army that broke from their ranks once they saw someone they knew in the gaggle of formerly enslaved natives that we had liberated for them. Tears were shed over those who were still in the trance like state that the gruel inflicted on them, but there were more than a couple of ex slaves that recognized their family members or spouses among the warriors, and they exhibited promising signs that they were recovering from their mental sickness. There were a few enraged holdouts whose children had perished, but the Chief mollified them when I promised that they could attend the executions of the guilty outlaws who were caught in the raid on the mine. Both sides subsequently stood down from any aggressive posturing, and Strongheart, the town, and I breathed a collective sigh of relief. Neither of the armies dispersed forthwith, but there was nothing to fear anymore.
Braeburn was especially overjoyed, ecstatic that the danger he perceived in his mind was an illusion (One that was perilously close to becoming reality, were it not for myself and Appleloosa’s law enforcement). He and Strongheart started making emergency plans for their wedding to be held the next evening, while Applejack and I enjoyed a bottle of cider together to congratulate ourselves on a honest job well done. I had met with an exhausted Shooting Star beforehand for a curtailed moment to let him know that the Crown was interested in him for his aptitude with firearms, which had his tired eyes lighting up like the Fourth of July. He mirrored the interest prodigiously, and assured me that if the Crown ‘ever came callin’, then ah’d come a’runnin’’ as he so eloquently put it.
After no deliberation whatsoever, the two lovers decided to host the celebratory venue for their wedding underneath the shadow of the butte where they had first fallen in love. Before they shacked up for the night, Braeburn nervously approached me to ask me something important. He invited me to attend his wedding as the best man, and wanted to know what I thought about it, as he was short on guy friends (A snarky part of me was howling like a hyena at his sheepish admission, though for reasons known only to me). I shrugged frivolously and told him ‘Why not?’ to spite my prior misgivings after Tumbledown. Weddings were happy affairs, and a strenuously achieved peace in the south matched that jubilation.
⁂
I absently rubbed at the crimson feather I had stuck to the band of my hat as I surveyed Flim and Flam’s seemingly innocent fertilizer shipping center from twenty meters out, masquerading itself as a place of legal business. But AJ and I knew better, and it was high time that Flim learned that we were in on the sordid secret. The grounds were organized into rows of brick buildings with garage doors at one end, presumably where the carts were loaded up with bunches of crates to be shipped by train to wherever it was that these crates were distributed to in the mainland. Effective as the morbidly created fertilizer was, human blood was not an acceptable ingredient in any recipe in the history of ever. This place had to be shut down, and its workforce thoroughly interrogated for evidence of guilt and imprisoned as was necessary.
“Looks like nobody is home” Applejack observed from beside me.
“Were it only so” I lamented softly, “Just to be safe, AJ. I want you hang back until I can confirm that the coast is clear. Alright?”
She frowned at my unwillingness to put her at the forefront, but relented to my unfaltering stare, “Okay, Zenith. But you gimme a holler if ya need mah help” She had Dusk Breeze rotate in place before galloping somewhere out of sight.
“I’ll certainly make a lot of noise” I half joked, dismounting from my steed and continuing on foot.
My Ackbar senses were tingling like crazy, but I suppressed the urge to go full Trifect and level the place and everything in it. There was bound to be useful evidence here that could shed some light on who was culpable of these crimes or where I could find them. At the terminus of the premises was a lodge style house not unlike Miss Jubilee’s. If my hunch was correct, that building was where I would find Flim, along with the info I sought. As I foresaw, the property wasn’t as deserted as its initial impressions gave off. Six figures bristling with guns surfaced from the local buildings as I passed them. I found myself surrounded by them, and one of their number spoke to me gruffly.
“You lost, stranger? We don’ hire rodeo clowns” His fellows chuckled, finding the situation humorous.
“With lame jokes and an ugly mug like yours, I figure I’d be outclassed by you anyway” I riposted, drawing a string of ‘Oohs’ at the crisp zinger. The man scowled, wrinkles forming in his brow.
“What do ya want?” He spat, no longer in an amicable mood. Fine by me, angry opponents are prone to making mistakes.
“To see your boss” I coolly replied, “He and I have business to conclude”
The man’s chartreuse eyes saw the bullet holes in my duster and drifted down to my waistline, to where my oil secreting pistol belt was slung on my hip specifically. From the sudden shift in the atmosphere, his buddies had noticed Dee-Dee too, and were on edge. They knew who I was, and Flim had wisely advised them to beware of me.
“Yer in luck! Mah boss has cleared his schedule jus’ fer you. No firearms are allowed in his presence though” He, outstretched his palm, “Ah’m gonna have to ask ya to relinquish that gun of yers over to me” His pals responded to the verbal cue and unholstered their weapons, pointing them at me. They were making it plain as day that I was at their mercy.
In the distance, a hawk screeched thrice, and I stifled the desire to smile.
‘Or so they would love to think’ I mentally scoffed. But I obliged them for now, sliding out my pistol nice and slow like, turning it backwards and proffering the handle of the gun to the speaking brigand. This baited them into a false sense of superiority, and that would cause their response time to wane.
“Ain’t never seen a fancy pistol like that before” He murmured, entranced by Dee-Dee’s ornate design, “Ah’m jealous”
I grinned viciously, “Then allow me to acquaint you intimately”
Before he could react, I flipped my proffered Magnum around in an old gunfighter’s trick known as the Road Agent’s Spin by inserting my index finger into the trigger guard and twisting it back into my hand in the blink of an eye. I shoved the barrel into his stomach and pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in his gut. I held him with an arm around his neck before he could sag to the ground like a limp fish. His comrades were shocked by the brazen display of aggression, permitting me to kill two of their number without receiving return shots. The first man to get his carbine up got a shot off, which was absorbed by his buddy’s body (though it did still feel like being punched, though the shock was mitigated significantly) before a bullet burrowed its way into his heart. I repeated the meat shield technique with the remaining two, popping a round into both of their craniums with an explosion of gore.
I dropped the bullet riddled corpse and sprinted towards the lodge house as dozens of armed men poured out of the woodwork. They took potshots at me, but I was too swift for them to get accurate shots at. They had worries other than me to contend with. With a bugle horn sounding the charge, a contingent of Frontier Rangers galloped down the hill where we had been, guns blazing. After the settlers and natives were not poised to tear into each other, the Sheriff had kindly donated the guns we had appropriated in the mines to the Captain, and Shooting Star gave them the crash course in their operation. Before I had set out to hunt down Flim, I requested a favor (which was a creative interpretation for a Royal order) from the Captain to let me borrow some of his gun toting soldiers to conduct a raid on Flim’s place of business. Rockwall consented, with the small stipulation that he led them himself as Arcania’s first Dragoon commander.
Their shouts and enthusiastic clamor attracted the attention of the premise’s security detail. And they rushed to confront them, transforming the shipping area into a miniature warzone as Rangers on horses harried and divided the outlaws on Flim’s payroll. The Captain himself appeared to be having a blast blasting outlaws in the face with his dual flintlocks before dicing them to bits with his cavalry saber. The glorious scene would have brought a tear to my eye if there weren’t a task for me to complete. I made it to the porch of the lodge, where gunfire was erupting from the windows as Flim’s bodyguard justified their pay. I discerned a familiar neigh as Dusk Breeze galloped through the chaos and deposited Applejack (who was wielding her blunderbuss) into my metaphorical lap.
“Applejack!? What are you doing in the line of fire?” I didn’t want a stray bullet to strike her. She was a friend, darn it, and I looked out for those I cared about, even if it meant confining them to the side.
“Don’ give me that hogwash speil!” She snapped at me, pushing her hat down as a bullet flew into the wall above her, “Ah can hack this!”
I knew better than to argue with her in the middle of the firefight, “Alright. But you stick close to me, got it!?”
She smirked in an inexplicably enticing manner, “Not a problem fer me, sugarcube”
I rumbled my throat as I ignored the abrupt rush of heat to my face. Blaming it on the arid conditions of the desert, I inserted a fresh bunch of cartridges into Dee-Dee’s cylinder and flicked it shut before kicking in the door and ducking back into cover.
“Cease and desist in the name of the Crown!” I shouted through the doorway, getting a reply in the form of a hail of bullets.
“They want to play hardball, do they?” I groused to myself, producing a duo of flashbangs that the Captain resupplied me with in Appleloosa, “Well this ought to warn them that I play rough!”
I yanked at their activation rings and tossed them into the interior of the lodge’s entrance. Twin flashes accompanied by eardrum bursting noise erupted from within, and I pressed the glowing chaos button on my revolver before breaching. I shot at the first man I saw struggling to lift his pistol and fire at the blurry shape ahead of him. A phenomenon I could only describe as Arc Lightning sprang forth from Dee-Dee’s barrel, zapping a hole in the man’s face and jumping to his comrades one by one until the foyer was cleansed of all ten hostiles. I noted that the chaos button had lessened in luminosity from the action, so every trigger pull would drain it until it was non functional. I whistled appreciatively as I spun my Magnum in my hand and holstered it in the same motion like a true gunslinger.
I did not delay, “C’mon. If Flim is anything like his brother, he’ll be secluded in his office”
Applejack voiced her agreement as we jogged up the stairs and further into the lodge like building. The defenders in the foyer must have been the only men present, because we encountered no one else to obstruct our way in. Outside, the battle raged on as Rockwall’s mounted Dragoons blitzed the unprepared outlaws. Through a window we saw a storage building explode spectacularly, blowing its contents sky high (like in the mine, but larger) and sending shockwaves through the earth that we felt inside. Flim must have had a contingency plan in place that would erase everything if he and his brother’s illicit activities were ever uncovered. We followed the useful directory sign that directed us to the Co-owner Flim’s office. The door at the end of the hallway was not sealed and barred, but cracked slit width, as if someone had forgotten to close it before everything devolved into havoc.
“We gotta put a stop to this, quick! What if this place has been rigged ta blow?” Applejack agitatedly whispered to me.
“With Flim still inside?” I expelled a stream of dubious air through my nostrils, “Somehow I doubt he has the determination to atomize himself”
“What if it ain’t up to him?” Applejack posited, “Ya did say that he wasn’t the final rung in the ladder”
“I did,” I affirmed, “but he’s the local menace. Whoever he works for doesn’t operate conspicuously. That’s the ulterior motive for us to be here. After we shut him down, we see how deep the rabbit holes goes”
We sidled up to the doorway, and I unholstered my pistol and used the barrel to nudge the door cautiously aside. The hinges were well oiled, so there weren’t any pesky squeaks that gave us away. I heard the crackling of a fire that purred contentedly as something was fed to it intermittently. I got a peek of a sweating and hyperventilating Flim tossing papers into his fireplace from a fat stack in his arms. He was burning evidence before we could recover it! This was unacceptable.
I cocked the hammer audibly to announce our arrival as we crept into the room on our tiptoes, “Turn around… slowly”
Flim yelped, jumping half his height off the ground (accidentally dropping his paper trail, some of which smothered the flame but were consumed in the process) and pivoting on the spot.
Like the smooth conman he was, he recovered relatively fast, “H-hello there, M-mister Zenith. How was Appleloosa?”
“You may dispense with the pleasantries, Flim Skim” I said to him with a spiteful glower, “We both know this isn’t a social visit”
“I can see that. I must say, you duped me good, Agent” He growled, edging over to his desk, “It wasn’t until after you left that I thought to look into your background through my hidden sources. You’re a ghost. Even Princess Luna has more data on her, and she’s only been back a few years!”
“I take pride in maintaining a low profile” I replied with a hint of a grin. It was the truth, but not the whole truth.
“Well if it ain’t the snake that nearly stole mah family’s orchard from us, unfairly ah might add” Applejack made her presence known to him.
“Ah… Miss Applejack” Flim spat out her name, “You’re always there when life takes a dump on me”
“Perhaps that’s the world’s way of tellin’ you that ya need to enter an honest profession” She jibed.
“You nearly ruined our name permanently!” He hissed at her, “That loose lipped incestuous family of yours spread the news about us to every branch of your wretched family in Arcania! And they told their neighbors! It was difficult to set up a new business here, even with outside aid!”
“I’m here to inquire about that ‘outside aid’ as you put it. Is there a face to this organization? What are their aims?” I grilled him.
He shrugged, “Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. They had me meet with a different face on every occasion, and each of those faces had the same dead personality attached. But they were affluently wealthy and had connections you wouldn’t sneeze at, whoever they were. If I agreed to do some things for them, they’d help my brother and I get back on our feet. The way I see it? There was only one real choice”
“That choice condemned multiple natives, many of them children, to a grisly death!” I snarled at him.
He was apathetic, even pouring himself a glass of bourbon, “The fewer natives there are to plague the settlers. I was doing the country a favor” He took a sip.
“Do not play the innocent card with me. Your brother made the same mistake. You put your own countrymen at odds with the natives, and while they were dying, you were making a profit. You’re coming with us” I declared.
At the implied death of his brother, he stiffened, “Oh, I think not Agent” He tossed the half emptied glass of bourbon at me and made me flinch from the liquid splashing in my face. He reached into a drawer in his desk and withdrew a pair of flintlocks as I was momentarily stunned. I felt a searing pain in the skin underneath my left armpit before a booming roar filled the room and all was silent. Flim lay lifelessly against the wooden wall with the pistols in his hands clattered on the floor next to him. His body was torn to shreds from the avalanche of lead that Applejack’s weapon discharged in defense of our lives.
“Bucky McGillicuddy says howdy” Applejack shamelessly one liner’ed as she held a smoking blunderbuss. It was in that one searing pain suffused moment that I found the blonde cowgirl incredibly attractive.
‘I have weirdest standards for what I love in a woman’ I thought to myself.
“You named your gun?” I asked incredulously, to which she was bashful, “I am so proud of you right now, AJ”
“Aw shucks, Zenith” She scratched at her scalp below her hat as she fought a blush, “Don’ go givin’ me a swelled head. That was self defense there”
“Only self defense?” I was skeptical.
“Well… ah didn’t like him a great deal, either” She admitted, “Are ya hurt?”
I examined the spot where Flim had scored a glancing hit on me. The duster was torn in that area and my flesh had a neat chunk taken out of it from where the bullet skipped off, but other than that it wasn’t too grievous.
“Yeah, I’m alright” I allayed her worries. I produced a combat dressing from a duster pocket and slapped it on the injury, the natural analgesics soaking into my skin and soothing the leftover pain with a cooling effect.
‘Shame we couldn’t take him in alive’ I mused with a glance to Flim’s corpse, ‘Though I was getting the impression he wouldn’t have helped that much anyhow’
Without any other distractions, I inspected the fireplace where Flim was masking his tracks before we surprised him. Outside the sounds of gunfights were dying down, so I assumed that Rockwall and his men had prevailed and secured the premises. No other buildings had violently exploded, so there was that too. I scavenged the documents that Flim fumbled with when we confronted him, partially burnt and unburnt, and stuffed them into an unoccupied fold in my duster without looking at them. I could review their contents later.
Under the sunlight again, Applejack and I regrouped with our mutual friends in the Arcanian army, who were rounding up the outlaws that prudently surrendered once they realized they were outmatched. I saw dead horses that absorbed bullets meant for their riders, but the Rangers suffered no casualties other than injuries, which was relieving. The Captain saw us emerge from the lodge and trotted over to us.
“Agent” He saluted me, which I returned, “I am pleased to report that we have taken and made safe this facility as per yer request. We’ll begin processin’ the prisoners shortly”
“Excellent, Captain. You are to be commended for your efforts” I made a mental note for the future to praise this man’s leadership.
“What are yer next orders?” He formally wanted to know.
“The show is yours” I relented command to him, before whistling shrilly to the wind, “My companion and I are going home. Isn’t that right, Applejack?”
She smiled as our horses responded to the call, “Darn tootin”
