Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience

That was the best possible future. Silky Stream knew that.

The world was at peace.

Ponykind, and all of its neighbors, was safe.

The Mansus was still accessible in her dreams.

So yes, that was the best possible future. By every possible metric, and by everypony's standard. And that made her very, very happy.

Even though she was already so old that, very soon, she would no longer be a part of that future.

It felt like yesterday, when she was still a filly. It felt like she just got her cutie mark last week, and that she still had so much to do. Granted, she knew she had already done plenty, and that she taught her foals well enough for them to keep up the good work when they are gone.

Yes, Silky Stream taught her foals, and she watched as they taught her grand-foals. And if she looked really hard, and took some liberties that could be mistaken for arrogance, she thought that she could see the effects of her hard work around her.

"Well, I didn't make nearly as much of an impact as mom did," she mused out loud. "Or Selene, or any of my other sisters. But they work in such a grander scale that…"

She trailed off, letting her mind wander as a smile slowly formed on her lips.

"It's alright. How is it that Cherry always says it? Ah, of course. Our kind is meant to build the canvas, but your kind is meant to paint on it," she said to the empty room. And not for the first time, she couldn't help but come to the same conclusion she always did. "And I'm awful glad that I get to paint on it. Being an immortal sounds so dull, really. I'm glad I just get to do one thing well, and then pass the torch to the next generation."

She thought about that, and then she thought about other things besides, and at some point she just started thinking about nothing at all. Letting the empty room, and the sound of a nearby ticking clock, keep her company.

Until finally, a knock came through the door.

"Mother? Are you awake?" one of her daughters, her daughter, walked into the room, her voice a familiar whisper.

Silky considered pranking her. Pretending to be asleep or dead or something else besides. But she decided against it. Not today, she thought. Not today.

"Yes dear, I'm awake. Is everything ready?" she answered.

"Yes, mother. The Salon is ready and the Visitors are in place. We are ready to begin when you are."

Silky Stream, the elderly mortal matron of the Velvet family, gave her daughter a small nod as she got up from her seat.

Because today, she would add her last brushstroke to the grand painting that is Equestria.



- - -



The preparations for that day were… extensive. In a sense, Silky Stream could say that she had been preparing for that day her whole life.

And of course, that day wouldn't have been possible if she had worked alone. After all, no great work can be done by a single pony.

Her mother, and the other immortals who loved her so, laid out the groundwork. They saved the world from the hate of ice, and the wrath of fire. They negotiated this bright future into existence. They brought about this land where the New is enthroned and the Old is honored.

And most importantly, for Silky's work, her mother brought back the season of Numa. That fog-chocked season, that only lasts an entire day, when the world was the most open for suggestions.

Her daughters, and the other mortals who followed her, set the stage. The work and works they have done is beyond counting, and their achievements were sometimes as small as a hoofshake, or as grand as a new life. But each and every one of them was important. Each and every one of them was another step, oath or bargain that led to that day.

As for Silky herself…

Well, the groundwork and the stage can only be put to use if the main actress is present.

"Everything looks wonderful dear," she said, to her daughter's delight. "Perfect, even! I couldn't have asked a better pony to prepare this feast."

Silky Stream said that as she gazed down at the Salon, the fine dinning hall of the Velvet Castle, all propped up and ready for a grand meal.

The walls were adorned with banners and tapestries, of glories past and future.

The mosaic walls were shining bright, dripping here and there with the cold drops of the outside mists of Numa.

The great dining table was ready, with eight honored chairs (four on each side), eight guest chairs (one for each companion), and one humble chair (at the center, to make a proposal) all laid out where they should be.

And then of course there was the feast itself. Nine dishes and nine drinks from nine cultures, each of them a joy to the senses (and worth a small fortune) prepared by a deft hoof.

The proper things, in the proper manner, in the proper order.

Velvet, help us all.

"Well then, it is time to begin," Silky said, to which her daughter answered with a respectful bow as she took her leave.

With that, Silky Stream sat alone upon the humble chair, at the edge of the long table, and she looked down upon the seats to her right and her left.

Then, she took the small bell in front of her, which was waiting next to her own plate.

And then-






-she invited the guests.

From eight separate entrances came eight honored guests, each of them with a companion by their side. The expressions on their faces were an array of emotions. Some of them were amused, some of them were disgusted, but none of them were surprised.

None of them were surprised because, in the end, they had all been invited. All of them knew what to expect.

And Silky Stream knew these honored guests very well. She had known them since she was a filly, the eight immortals from the old world.

Of course, Silky Stream also knew their companions well… after all, she quite literally made them. Granted, making them companions had been an effort in itself. But that was not the time to look back at old victories.

No, that was the time to host a feast.

And given the honored guests presents, she was the only one in the whole world who could do it.

"Welcome, everypony," she said, before anypony else could truly react.

And then, she began her magnum opus.







Because Silky Stream wasn't just there to host a feast. She was there to make a proposal.

So of course, she had to ensure that…



[IMMATERIAL] has been nullified.

… that her guests were properly present.



[ANTISOCIAL] has been nullified.

[IRRATIONAL] has been nullified.

[SHE IS JUST A PAINTING] has been nullified.

… that her guests were able, and willing, to speak.



[HE WILL NOT RELEASE ME] has been nullified.

[CRIMINAL] has been nullified.

[MARRIED TO A MORTAL] has been nullified.

… that her guests were allowed to choose for themselves.



[OH HATED FOE] has been nullified.

… and of course, that no violence would take place at her table.



She said that, and she watched as the impossible happened.

Because upon her invitation, and with nothing but her words, the eight honored guests sat around her table. Four guests of Order on one side, and four of Change on the other. All of them from the far past, and all of them joined by companions from this future.

And with that, at long last, her work could begin.

"Thank you for coming to this, my last tea party," Silky Stream said, using the one and only privilege she had as a mortal.

After all, her honored guests would not have come if they knew there would be more tea parties, and more invitations. They would not have suffered each other's presence, if she had joined them in eternity.

But she would not have received her cutie mark if she didn't know how to bring ponies to her table. Even if it was, quite literally, the last thing she did.

"Now, the reason I called you all here is very simple, my dear friends," she said to the table at large. "You all belong to the past, and this world is galloping towards the future. However, that does not mean you need to be left behind."

She said that as she poured herself a cup of tea, not needing to look up at their familiar faces to know how they would react to her words. She knew them too well.

"So, I have a proposal," she said.

She said that to her friends, and she said that to her foals, and she said that to the whispering mists coiling outside.

And, impossibly, they all listened to her.

By the end of that day, the past was married to the future, the old was made new, and tomorrow turned just a little brighter.

And the last story that Silky Stream told would echo throughout the world for the rest of time.





Author's note:

- - -


- - -

The sun sets on Equestria. Grudgingly. Haltingly. Like it is being strangled down towards the horizon, burning and kicking, rather than being put to bed. Everypony with a cutie mark notices it, but nopony points it out.

In most cities, where the air whispers malice into the ears of ponies and the wind is a little colder, ponies blame each other. Their neighbors, their families, everypony but themselves.

But in fair Ponyville, where trust has not been chased away by wolves, everypony just silently notices the struggle taking place in the twilight sky. And in their hearts, they hope that tomorrow will be a little better.

Still, as the shadows lengthen and the sky is tentatively dotted by stars, another figure flits through the clouds. A lone pegasus, clad in uniform and carrying a locked saddlebag, flying towards the distant estate on the town's outskirt.

A courier of the Lunar Bureau, running a familiar route, undisturbed by the late hour or the chilly weather. After all, even if the very heart of Equestria is troubled, its legs still gallop, and those who have a duty to perform will see to them.

Because they might as well give up on their cutie marks if they stop doing what they are supposed to do.

"Mail, from the Commissioner," the familiar figure says to the guards. And soon enough, packages exchange hoofs, soldiers call upon servants, and a group of letters is eventually delivered to their recipients.



Dear Stormchaser…

The first letter to be delivered was the longest. It was the longest, the most carefully written, and clearly the most important. But even then, it was not long enough. Because how could a simple letter ever replace the aching need for a pony's presence?

Still, even the longest letters eventually have an end. And by the end of that letter, a few unfortunate news had been conveyed.

That she would be busy for a while.

That they might not see each other for longer than usual.

And the hint, just the slightest hint, that he should be ready to take their family and run should something particularly strange happen in the sky.



Honorable Cherenkolt, and the blasted snake I know won't bother reading this…

The next pair of letters was bundled in a single scroll-binder.

The two letters, disguised as a pair of reasonably respectable invitations, were in fact missives. Orders, to those who were bound to obey, regardless of how unwilling they professed to be.

Granted, one of the letters went unread, as expected by its writer. But still, the more dutiful of the pair made preparations for both of them, and in a few days' time they would depart to the capital as instructed.

A long and arduous journey awaited at least one of them.



"Miss Baldomare? I have a letter for y-"

"I already know that. Here is my answer."

The following letter, delivered to a well-used guest room of the Velvet Estate, was never opened. It was barely delivered to begin with.

Because when the assigned maid knocked on her door, good Baldomare answered by barely opening it. And rather than receiving her correspondence, she instead shoved a scroll of her own writing on the maid's hoofs.

"Just make sure this gets sent back to her. You can still catch the courier if you go down to the garden right now."

She said that, and then she closed the door once again, letting the click of its lock ring loudly just to make her point clear.

And the maid was wise enough not to question her anymore.



And then, of course, there was the final letter…





- - -

- - -

- - -





You are Commissioner Velvet Covers.

Five minutes ago, you were just Velvet Covers. Five minutes ago, you were just yourself. But that moment of reprieve ended the moment you sealed the letters and passed them to the waiting Bureau courier.

Now, you must focus on the task at hoof. Now, you must make the hard decisions. And as much as it pains you, now is the time for you to decide how other ponies will risk their time, safety or even their lives. Because as much as you wish it was the case, you can't be everywhere at once.

So, you will have to trust your servants, allied and loved ones to handle their own responsibilities.

And in more practical terms, that means…

"I want an all-hoofs meeting tomorrow with everypony in a leadership position," you say to the trio of secretaries in front of you, the three ponies taking notes as you speak. "We can't assault the changelings yet, but I have other priorities for the Bureau to tackle while we figure out how to deal with them."

You tell them to send somepony to the archives for a number of things. Maps of outside of Equestria, particularly of the far east. Historical notes on quarries and stone-digging creatures. Newspaper articles on freak snowfalls over the last few months.

Your secretaries do not question the seemingly random nature of your requests. They only ask you for clarification so they know exactly what to look for.

They also do not question you when you say Deputy Shining will be absent for the foreseeable future. That, you know, is a mystery that is far easier for them to figure out.

"We will also be hosting two of our consultants," you say. "Make sure everything goes smoothly with their clearance when they arrive in Canterlot, but make sure they come see me before anything else."

You say that partly because, indeed, you want to make sure there are no hiccups during this first visit of your "consultants" to the Bureau. After all, you know you are taking a bit of a risk by bringing Lore-soaked Names here, given how Eclipse is already exploring the Mansus. But still, you don't have time to hesitate or second-guess yourself.

And of course, the other reason you want to oversee this first visit of the Names to the Bureau is because of…

"That damned snake…" you say under your breath.

"Beg your pardon, Commissioner?" one of the secretaries ask.

"Nothing, nothing. Moving on…"

Your meeting with your secretaries eventually ends, and you go about the task of catching up with the bureaucracy of the Bureau in preparation for tomorrow.

Still, you can't help but take that time to decide that…



The blasted snake is too good at voyages to have her do anything else. However, both yourself and Cherenkolt have versatility at your side.

How would you like to fine-tune your decisions for the coming Bureau Expedition?




[] (VELVET) You will personally join the Bureau in the expedition.
-Velvet Covers will personally join the Bureau in the expedition.
-She will still devote some (but only the minority) of her aid to the other actions of the Bureau.
-She will be AWAY AT THE EXPEDITION when Cadance rolls her dice, and will not be able to react quickly to whatever happens.


[] (VELVET) You will NOT join the Bureau in the expedition.
-Velvet Covers will direct the Bureau's expedition from a distance, through missives and reports.
-She will still lend some aid to the expedition, but most of her skills will be aiding the Bureau in its other actions.
-She will be WELL POSITIONED when Cadance rolls her dice, and will be able to react quickly to whatever happens.


[] (CHERENKOLT) Cherenkolt will personally join the expedition.
-Cherenkolt will retain his orders to Recalibrate to Grail, and will join the Bureau expedition.


[] (CHERENKOLT) Cherenkolt will focus on aiding the detectives.
-Cherenkolt will NOT join the Bureau expedition.
-Cherenkolt will CHANGE his orders and will recalibrate to Secret Histories, and will aid the detectives in investigating Neighnia.
-This will guarantee that the detectives have their report (be it success or failure) BEFORE Cadance rolls her dice. (Otherwise, the detectives will only finish their mission after Cadance rolls her dice)


[] (CHERENKOLT) Cherenkolt will focus on aiding the researchers.
-Cherenkolt will NOT join the Bureau expedition.
-Cherenkolt will CHANGE his orders and will recalibrate to Lantern, and will aid the Bureau researchers in studying the changeling carcass.
-This will guarantee that the Bureau researchers have their report (be it success or failure) BEFORE Cadance rolls her dice. (Otherwise, the researchers will only finish their study after Cadance rolls her dice)





Baldomare sent you a letter. Confusingly, it was signed and sealed one day before you sent her your own letter asking for a lesson. But your confusion is the least of your worries, because the letter exploded in blinding light the moment you opened it. Its contents are still burned, as black fading mirages, in your field of vision.

You have gained one scrap of Lantern Lore.

Your Lantern Lore is now 4/4, pending a Sacrament. Any additional Lantern Lore scrap you receive will be "wasted" (lost and unused) until you attain Sacrament.

But wasn't there one final letter...?


Your dinner with Mareinette will take place before Cadance's dice roll.

Vote by approval, no plans needed. The single highest vote on the "Velvet" and the "Cherenkolt" categories will be the winner for each category.

Edit: Voting is OPEN. No better way to get the engine running than to let it run.