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

Turn 21 - Results, part 1
[X] Plan Prudent KISSing
-[X] (AotL) Lantern
-[X] (Forge) Forge 3 reagent
-[X] (Knock) Explore the Summit
-[X] (Winter) Invoke a Risen
-[X] (Social) Teach Selene
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Family
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Friends
-[X] Perform the Forge's Redemption
--[X] Sacrifice Forge 3 reagent
--[X] At Jade's old house
-[X] Sacrament: Through the Foggy Mirror (4x)

[X] Plan Spreading Ourselves Thin Always Gets Us Punished
-[X] Do not leash anypony.
-[X][DETECTIVES] Follow Up: Changelings
-[X][CONSTABLES] (FOLLOW UP) Your detectives have given you a very long list, of ponies and places involved in the attempt against your life. Round them up and put them all in jail, before this trail goes cold.
-[X][COMMISSIONER] The Lunar Bureau is not the only recently-minted institution in Equestria. Try to contact the others.
--[X] Eclipse(?), and Midday Dew.
-[X][JADE] Research "A Memory of Light" (Current progress 0/100, uses Learning and LANTERN)
-[X] (Baldomare-Gift) Edge 6 book
-[X][BALDOMARE] Channel an Influence. (Secret Histories)
-[X][AXE] Ask for a Knock lesson.
-[X][MAREINETTE] Channel an Influence. (Grail)
-[X][SELENE] Soothe the night. (Her Winter realization. Unknown effects, if any.)
-[X][RARITY] Take a Commission.
-[X] Needs must. Ask somepony to procure you a dead body from the local cemetery.
-[X] Three extra Velvet actions! (Costs 9 follower actions)
-[X] Something Else (lend Heartifact to Comet)

You are Velvet Covers.

And you are, first and foremost, a mare of priorities.

"You two can go ahead without me. I should be back home in maybe half an hour," you say to the two mares. Moving a hoof in a calm and casual wave as you dismiss the two mares who, in truth, are your bodyguards.

The reason you are dismissing them is obvious. After all, you have just landed in Ponyville, and you are about to go somewhere you clearly don't want them to follow you. However, true to their trade and their cutie marks, you can see how several different thoughts are running through their eyes as you say that.



"Excuse me, Commissioner, but that's not how this is supposed t-"

"Absolutely, Commissioner! You won't see a hind or tail from us this afternoon!"




But thankfully, at least one of your bodyguards seems to have a good head on her shoulders. And for all that Drummer Clap started saying something sensible, but stupid, Battering Ram almost immediately jumped on her friend and covered her mouth with a hoof. Giving you the answer that you were expecting, and that she will have to teach the rest of your bodyguards if they want to continue taking care of you.

"Thank you, Ram. I will see you two later," you say, turning your back to the two mares and walking away.

You can vaguely hear them whispering to each other, as Drummer asks her something and Ram hurriedly answers under her breath. And after making a show of going away and towards your estate, you eventually feel that the two mares are still tailing you, albeit with a reasonable degree of subtlety.

Good, good. You think you will be able to live with this, as long as they learn what boundaries they are not supposed to cross.

Regardless, you have more important things to do. Because again, you are first and foremost a mare of priorities.

Which means there is a reason, a very obvious reason, to why you are here. Today might be the last day of the week, but there is a reason why you came back to Ponyville early in the morning, rather than late at night like you usually would.

Granted, being your own boss and making your own schedule means you don't really have to explain yourself to anypony. But your secretaries have already learned that even you won't break your own routine without a good reason.

And the reason why you left the Lunar Bureau so early, and why you cleared an entire day's worth of work so you could come back to Ponyville is…



… because today you are picking up your daughters from school!



"Heavens, it feels like I haven't been here in a while," you say to yourself, as you approach the not-so-familiar sight of Ponyville's schoolhouse.

You say it is not familiar because, although not unrecognizable, you can see that the building itself has been somewhat enlarged. It still looks like the schoolhouse you saw the last time you were here, but you can see that an entire classroom-sized section has been added to it.

Which only makes sense, you suppose, given how Cheerilee told you that the number of pupils in her school has more than doubled since the beginning of the year. And given how cramped the school feels, even from this distance, you assume they will need to expand this place again very soon.

You wonder if they will just demolish the school and rebuild it from the ground up, maybe during the vacation period. You wonder how well the Ponyville students are getting along with the newcomers. You wonder…

By the stars, you have been really out of the loop when it comes to this aspect of your daughters' life. You really should catch up to speed with this.

Still, there is nothing you can do about that right now. Instead, you just make your way to the small crowd of parents who are waiting by the school's entrance. Classes are about to be done for the day, and the bell should ring any minute now, so you just blend in with the several ponies who are here to pick up their foals.

Although, to your surprise, you very quickly recognize a face you were not expecting to see here.

"Uncle Steppes?" you say out loud, as surprised as you are delighted, as you make your way towards a particular circle of parents.

"Ah, Covers! How great it is to see you here," he says, waving for you to join him and the several other ponies he is speaking to. "Although by Celestia, I could have gone without you calling me uncle. I almost had everypony here believing me when I said I was one of the fillies' parents!"

He says that with an easy smile on his face, and you can hear a few ponies around him chuckling at his words. And all of them, you can tell, have the at-ease expression of ponies who are already accustomed to your uncle's pleasantness.

Because how could they not? After all, you are well aware that your uncle is a nice pony to be around, to begin with, and that he has a way with words. Plus, given how your uncle is… well, without his suit, or any of his more expensive apparels, he is blending in with his surroundings almost perfectly.

He looks, without a doubt, like a visiting grandparent who is picking up a grandchild from school. And the small crowd of parents around him all seem to be perfectly content with his company.

"Now, everypony, I know you all heard little Silky call me uncle, but I'm afraid the true honor of being my niece falls to this delightful pony," he says, putting a foreleg around you as he introduces you to the surrounding parents. That is, until he gives you a dubious look, as he looks at you up and down. "Although… young filly, shouldn't you be in school with your classmates? What are you doing out here before the bell rings?"

You can't help but laugh a little bit as you shake your head. But with that, your uncle begins introducing you to the other parents in earnest. Which suits you just fine, given how most of them seem to be the parents of the newcomer foals, and you did not know most of them. And just a few minutes later, you are all idly chatting as you wait for the minutes to pass.

"It really is great to see you here. But I was expecting to find Soft Sweeps here. Did you happen to come with her, or…?" you eventually ask as you chat with your uncle.

"Oh, no. She's back at the estate. I spoke to your maid earlier this week, and I've been the one bring the fillies to school and picking them up. Which, I must admit, has been doing me a lot of good."

You give him a slow, thoughtful nod. Because despite your uncle's usual demeanor, you can tell that he looks… rather tired. In a way that is entirely unrelated to how late he went to sleep, or how early he woke up.

However, and unfortunately, this would be the kind of thing you would need more time to investigate. The kind of thing you can't investigate without time, alcohol, and maybe some luck.

And as the bell finally rings, and the last reminders of a teacher about homework are drowned out by the cheering of foals, you come to terms with the fact that you have none of those resources at your disposal right now.

Plus, you came here today for an entirely different reason.

"Well then," you say to Steppes, "shall we head back home? Or have you been taking the girls on a little detour this last week?"

"I will never admit to you that I now know everything about Sugarcube Corner," he answers with a joking smile.

Moments later the two of you, and the surrounding parents, can only dig in with your legs and brace yourselves, as the wave of rushing foals finally crashes against you all.



- - -



"Moooom, you shouldn't be doing this," Selene tries to complain, her voice an embarrassed whisper. "You are still… I mean, you just can't…!"

But alas, your magic already has her in your grip. And moments later, you finish settling her on your back as you continue to walk through Ponyville.

"You are telling me that I shouldn't be carrying my own daughter? Absurd!" you say, as dramatically as possible. And you are sure that, to Selene's ears, your voice is being a lot louder than it really is. "One day you will be as tall as I am, and how in heaven am I supposed to carry you then? No no no, I will make sure to enjoy this while it lasts!"

You can feel her body heating up as, for some reason, she feels embarrassed by what is happening. And you think you can hear her muttering some kind of nonsense under her breath. Something about her already being taller than you, or that you should still be resting at home rather than being here.

Pff, silly Princess. Hasn't she figured out she will always be a filly in your eyes? And why is she so flustered? She also looks like a filly to everypony around you, so it's not like you are parading an alicorn on your back as you walk down the street.

Your uncle is a few paces in front of you, with Silky Stream quite literally flying circles around him as she tells him about her day. And even though you aren't really going towards your home, you can tell that this is a route they are all used to by now. So, you just go with the flow and follow after your uncle as he takes your daughters… somewhere.

Still, for all that a part of your mind is listening to Silky's voice, you are mostly focused on the filly you are carrying on your back.

After all, for all that she is tamely holding on to your neck, you can still tell that she is acting like she is stepping on a porcelain plate. In fact, you even think that, if she could, she would be flapping her wings to make herself a little lighter.

Which is the kind of concern that a filly her age definitely shouldn't have in her mind.

"So, how was your day Selene?" you ask.

And you can almost hear the gears spinning in her head as she thinks about that question. Usually, Silky Stream would have already jumped in to answer that by now. But alas, her usual helper is currently busy with your uncle, right in front of you.

"It was… fine? We didn't have any history or geography today, but grammar is also useful and…" she starts to answer, but eventually trails off with an awkward tone. But you don't really push that issue.

You have already seen Selene act in a dead-serious and mature way, and you have already seen her give in to Silky's youth and enjoy playing around like a filly. All of that after she woke up. So, you can only imagine how school must be like for her.

Still, she is the one who decided to do this, so you will keep supporting her.

"I see, I see. And how have you been?" you ask.

And this time, she doesn't even try to hide the frown on her face.

"Well, Silky has been… better, I think. Or at least she has been sleeping better, and she's finally acting normal around our friends again. But I'm still worried about dad. He hasn't been having any nightmares, but I don't like checking his dreams?" she says with a conflicted tone. "It feels like I'm snooping around where I shouldn't, so I avoid doing that. But the problem is that… well, he refuses to tell me what he's thinking! So what else am I supposed to do?"

You give her a slow nod as she speaks, to show that you understand. And you also make a point of idly checking your surroundings, to make sure nopony is listening in on this conversation. Granted, you don't think anypony would think too much about the make-believe ramblings of a filly, but it pays to be careful.

And when Selene finally finishes ranting about how worried she is about her family, making sure to once again insist that you should still be recovering, you give her another patient nod as she settles down on your back.

"That was quite amazing, Selene," you say, feeling her tilt her head in confusion against your mane. "You said all that, but you completely avoided the question that I asked. So, again, how have you been sweetheart?"

You can't really look at her face as you walk, given how she is on your back. But you can quite clearly visualize how she is slowly narrowing her eyes as she reassesses her situation.

And you try not to laugh as she lets out a small, almost betrayed gasp, when she finally understands what is happening.

Yes, dear daughter, this has been an ambush all along. We are here today to talk about you, not everypony you are trying to take care of.

"I am… fine," she says, although you can almost feel the cautiousness in her voice.

But oh, the poor filly. Doesn't she know that even that hesitation is already a treasure trove of information?

She knows that, of course she does. She is a smart filly. Which means she also realizes how out of her depth she is.

So, whatever it is that she is hiding (and you both know she is hiding something) is now at risk of being exposed.

You can feel her tiny heartbeat quickening against your back, as all those thoughts come crashing into her mind. And you think she is looking around as she fruitlessly tries to think about how to escape this situation

Still, you only let out a low and satisfied hum as you nod your head, simply encouraging her to continue.

"I'm fine, mom. Everything is fine," she tries once again.

And you just… wait.

You just wait, as you carry her on your back. Calmly enjoying the scenery as you follow after Steppes and Silky. Watching your pegasus daughter zip up and down as she tells your uncle about this and that, as the streets of Ponyville stroll by you.

You just wait, and you let the silence stretch itself, because… well, you don't really have to do anything, do you?

Or rather, there is nothing to be done about this, is there?

After all, you are carrying your daughter on your back, and she just told you that she is alright. She is alright, so all is right in the world.

She couldn't possibly be lying to you, could she? Of course not. Why would Selene lie?

She is not lying. That is the only possibility that exists. And if she is saying that she is fine, then she is fine.

After all, you are sure Selene wouldn't try to hide something from you, even if it was eating her from the inside. You are sure Selene wouldn't try to put up a strong front, as she faces some unseen and secret problem that, deep down, she knows she could use some help with.

You are sure that she isn't the kind of pony who tries to do everything on her own.

And most importantly, you are absolutely sure that something like this hasn't already happened before, maybe… one thousand years ago, give or take? Yes, nothing like this ever happened before in Selene's life, and you are sure that she carries no regrets about refusing her loved ones' help whatsoever.

Oh no, your Selene is a big, strong Princess, and she can carry the weight of the entire world on her b-!

"I'm actually really, really stressed about all this," she says, almost sagging on your back. Her tone low, but urgent, as if those words had almost pushed each other on the way out of her mouth.

If your mental counting is correct, then she caved in… less than three minutes. And over that entire time, you could feel her tensing on your back as if she was a spring that was going taut. But thankfully, she finally gave up on holding in whatever she has inside her chest.

And all you had to do was wait.

"Would you like to talk about it," you ask, with a calm and entirely judgment-free tone. In fact, you even make a point of not looking back towards her. You don't want her to clamp up whatever expression she has on her face right now.

"No… not really? I mean… I don't know. I don't know what to say about this. I don't know what to do," she says, and you can feel her moving her legs on your sides, almost as if standing still was somehow painful.

You give her another slow, understanding nod. But this time, you don't leave any room for silence to grow.

Because yes, you could already tell that she was stressed. And more importantly, she has finally admitted it to you, and to herself.

So now, you need to help her work her way out of it.

"Well, I don't know what to say about this either, but I have been thinking about it quite a bit," you say, and you can feel her leaning her head towards you and against your neck. At least for now, you think you have her full attention. "And you see, we might now know what to do… but it's important to keep in mind what we shouldn't do."

She lets out a low, inquisitive hum. And you can practically see the question mark floating above her head.

"You see, there's this saying about apples and trees that comes to my mind, every now and then. So, I have been trying to think about what I would have done, if I were in your situation," you say, and you think you can feel her forelegs clutching your neck a bit more tightly, as she gets closer to you so she can hear you better.

Which makes sense, you suppose. You two haven't exactly been whispering to each other, but this isn't something to talk about in a street like this.

"But here's the thing, Selene. I can't really read your mind," you lie, "but ever idea I had, about what I would do in your horseshoes, was either silly, reckless, or downright stupid."

And the filly almost immediately opens her mouth in protest. Because what do you mean by that?!

She isn't reckless or silly, and her ideas are not stupid! She is a Princess, for Moon's sake. She is a Princess, and every plan or idea that crossed her head was meant to protect her family!

Even if those plans were… well…

Even if that one night she thought about how she should… uh…

Well, she already killed one pony, that cursed Copper mare, so would it really be that bad if she considered…?

"Yes, exactly," you say, as you read your daughter's thoughts like an open book. You also gently close her mouth, that is still hanging open and waiting for a protest that will never come.

Still, even though it takes her several seconds to process it, the fact remains that you are right. You know it, and now (hopefully) she knows it as well.

Because yes, Selene is an alicorn. She is the Princess of the Moon, and there is almost nothing that she can't do. So, you have no doubt that she has been entertaining several flights of fancy of what she could do, to keep her family safe. Especially given what just happened to you.

However, just because she can do something, it doesn't mean she should.

She could reveal herself to the Lunar Bureau, and either take your job or fire you, to decrease your workload.

She could start moonlighting as a detective, or maybe as a hero from one of those books, to keep Ponyville and beyond safe.

She could take another page from that very grizzly book (although you dearly wish she won't) and just kill whoever she thinks is a threat.

She could do all of that, any many things besides.

But that's the thing. She shouldn't do any of that. She doesn't need to carry all of this weight on her back, but she shouldn't try to fix everything on her own either.

That's what you are here for. To remind her that, despite what just happened, you are still in this together.

"We are still on the same team, Selene. And I know… trust me, I know how nerve-wracking it is, to think that you aren't making any progress. But we can't let that nervousness turn into recklessness."

You say that, and you try not to think too hard about the heavy sigh your foal daughter just let out.

"Now, I'm not going to follow you around, Selene. I'm not really going to stop you, if you really want to try doing something without telling me. I trust you. But I want you to know that you can trust me as well, and that you don't need to go out on your own," you say.

Because yes, you know you just got hurt. You know that… you nearly died.

You know that you nearly died, and that Selene hated that. And the stab of powerlessness she felt these last several weeks have not hurt you nearly as much as it hurt her.

But still, that doesn't mean you should all start making plans of your own. That doesn't mean you should all tell yourselves that I know better and work behind each other's back.

That would just be the recipe for another new disaster.

"So… I know you are here for me, Selene. I know that, and I'm thankful for that. But I want you to know that I am also here for you," you say, moving your head to the side and rubbing your cheek against hers. "We don't need to act like we are alone," you finish.

And then, once again, you wait.

But this time, there are no second intentions behind your patience. You aren't waiting for a filly to awkwardly pull her hoof out of a cookie jar, after being caught. You aren't waiting for Selene's own nervousness to grow so much that she can't take it anymore. In fact, you honestly hope that your words didn't make her nervous at all to begin with.

You are just… waiting. Waiting for her answer. If she even wants to give you an answer at all.

Because ultimately, you aren't going to force her to do anything. You can't force her to trust you. Although you dearly wish that she does.

Eventually, and finally, she lets out a low grumble. But that is all the answer you need.

"Fiiine… fine. I promise I won't do anything silly," she says to you, or perhaps to herself. But still, she almost hugs your neck as she brings her mouth towards your ear to whisper something. "As long as you promise not to get hurt again," she finishes. Her words slightly admonishing, but more worried than anything else.

And you don't even try to hide the relief that you have as she tells you that.

"That's a promise," you say.

And a few moments later, you finally arrive at your destination. The local candy shop that, to Silky's delight, has been receiving a lot of patronage from your uncle.

"Sugarcube Corner! YAY!" Silky says -yells, really- as the four of you make your way inside.

The filly practically zips to the end of the small line in front of the counter, and you let Selene down from your back as she makes her way to join her sister. Idly listening to the shop owner as she tries to take the several orders from her customers.

"Just on the day we are understaffed. Where's Pinkie when you need her?" she says towards the back, and you think you hear a stallion's voice answering her. "Well, it is what it is. Come on in everypony! And what will you be having today?"

And the rest of your early afternoon is entirely peaceful.



- - -



You are, again, a mare of priorities.

That doesn't mean you love anypony in your family more or less than the others. Quite on the contrary. You have four legs, and you would happily chop off one of them for each of them.

However, you also understand that different ponies have… different needs.

Selene is a Princess, even if at times she also acts as a filly. So, you know you can have certain conversations with her that you wouldn't be able to have with most ponies.

Stormchaser is your very best friend, and you realize that he knows you better than you know yourself. So, with him, there is nothing you can do but be honest. And thankfully, despite your honesty, he decided to go with your plan.

As long as you are fine, he said. Although you understand that his definition of fine follows his own criteria.

Silky Stream is… a filly. And in truth no filly should have to go through what she went through. No foal should grow up as an orphan, and no foal should live through the fear they might lose a parent the next day. But still, thanks to everypony around her, and a conversation you had very recently, you can see that her smile is finally back on her face.

I still need you to take care of me, she said. And those words cut… a lot deeper than you expected.

And then, there is your last daughter.

The one that you… haven't seen in a while, now that you think about it.

The one whose parents you helped kill, even if you only had the most indirect of involvements in that chain of events.

The one who, deep down, you can't help but think that you have stolen away. From her family, and then from her old life and then from death itself.

The one that…

"… Softy? Are you in there?" you ask, as you gently knock a hoof against her door.

Her door, you can tell, is locked. And the young mare herself, you can feel, is currently inside her room.

Alone.

All by herself.

It is night. You arrived yesterday, early in the morning, and you went straight to your daughters' school. And after that, throughout yesterday and today, you spent your entire time with your family. With Stormchaser, and then Silky, and then the two of them together with Selene.

And this entire time, you have not yet seen Soft Sweeps. This entire time, as far as you know, she has not left her room.

Are you worried about her? Of course you are. You are worried, but for some reason you are not afraid.

You don't want Soft Sweeps to suffer. You love her, and the mere thought of her being in any kind of pain goes against everything you stand for. So, you are worried for her right now.

But again, you are not afraid.

Because you know you will help her.

You know you are here for her.

And you know you will save her no matter what.

You have already done it before.

"Softy dear, it's me," you say towards the door. "I'm coming in."

You tap a hoof against her door, and then you make your way in.

And the first thing you notice is how dark it is.

This is the head maid's room, the room Ponpon gave to your daughter after she refused to move to the second floor. So, it is larger and more comfortable than the servant's quarters. However, it is still relatively small, and the only window of the room is currently closed shut.

Still, you don't even bother lighting up your horn. You just close your eyes, and the door behind you, and then you make your way towards Soft herself.

The young mare, your daughter, is… on her bed. She is on her bed, curled up and hugging herself, and she…

"Softy, dear… what's the matter?" you ask, gently laying a hoof on her body.

Your hoof brushes against her clothes, the maid dress that you know she wears whenever she feels nervous. Like a talisman, or a personal superstition, that she keeps hanging on to. But still, you will not deny your daughter something that makes her feel better.

You lay your hoof against her maid dress, and you can't help but feel how damp it is.

Her maid uniform is damp because of the tears. Of course those are tears.

Why would that be blood?

"It's alright dear, I'm here now…" you say, slowly climbing up to her bed and bringing her head towards your chest. "I'm back home… everything is fine… so what's wrong? Why haven't you come out of your room?"

You affectionately stroke her mane as you say that. And slowly, very slowly, the young mare begins to move again.

She lurches sobs against your chest, and she spasms shakes ever so slightly.

But still, eventually, she brings her forelegs around you as well. And soon enough, your poor Softy is crying against the fur of your chest.

The stench is unbearable. But more than that, it is as disgusting as it is familiar.

The two of you stay like that for a while, in the darkness of her room, as the young mare tries to process her emotions.

Clinging on to you like a puppet, the smell of the thing inside of her escaping through the cracks of her broken body.

Until finally, her broken sobs croak a few words out of her chest.

"I… d-don't wanna… go through t-that… again…" she half-cries into you.

The volume of her words is weak, but the grip of her forelegs only grows stronger as she says that.

And you understand what she is saying. Of course you do.

Because Soft Sweeps already lost… everything, once. She already lost her family, and her siblings, and… well, and other things besides.

She might not remember it. She might not think about it. She might even not understand it. But the fear she felt these last few weeks, as she saw you on the edge of life and death, was a familiar fear. Even she couldn't name it. And for all that she tried to fight it, by focusing on her work, and staying with her sisters, and wearing her maid uniform every moment of her waking day, she still couldn't push those fears away.

And once you went away for work, earlier this week, she must have lost what little strength she had to hide those emotions. Which is why she has been… here.

Like this.

You think the last pony she ever spoke to was probably your uncle, as she arranged for him to take care of her sisters in her stead.

A part of you feels slightly proud, that she tried her best to arrange something for them before locking herself up here. But that isn't exactly at the forefront of your mind right now.

Instead, you focus on what really matters.

You help her restart calm her breathing down.

And then you wipe the wet tears off her face.

And then you encourage her to talk. Just talk. Until she lets out all her fears and her pains and the agony that has been keeping her company this last week.



And just like that, your daughter is fine! She apologizes for causing you problems. You tell her, with a kiss on her forehead, that she is never a problem. And then the two of you go to the kitchen for an early morning snack.

Although you weren't able to leave without making her a promise, just a small promise, for her to hang on to.





What did you promise Soft Sweeps?





[] You promised her that you will be safe.
-The best way to calm her down is to prove that this will not happen again. Through words, and then through actions.
-You will promise not to reach one health point for the next six turns. (Although you will not be mechanically prohibited from taking risky or life-threatening actions.)
-Successfully keeping your promise will placate Soft Sweeps.
-Failing to keep your promise will have dire consequences.


[] You promised to spend more time with her.
-The best way to calm her down is to be around her more often.
-Over the next three turns, you will have to take the action "Hang out with Soft Sweeps" a total of two times. (Although you will not be mechanically forced to do so.)
-Successfully keeping your promise will placate Soft Sweeps.
-Failing to keep your promise will have dire consequences.


[] You promise to let her help you.
-The best way to calm her down is to help her develop.
-You will promise to do… something for her. On turn 22 you will have the Fleeting Opportunity of "Soft Sweeps' Request". You cannot predict what she will ask of you, but if you perform that action you will accept whatever request she has. (Although you will not be mechanically forced to take this action.)
-Successfully keeping your promise will placate Soft Sweeps.
-Failing to keep your promise will have dire consequences.


[] You did not make any promises.
-The best way to calm her down is to let her be. You have faith in her, that she is stronger than this, and she already got a lot better with words alone.
-You cannot predict how this will affect Soft Sweeps. But you have already mostly calmed her down, so she will not do anything regretful.



[That which is most precious, breakpoints 60/80/120/150]

[Roll: 56 55 + 13 (Diplomacy) + 20 (Grail level 4) + 40 (An Incarnadescence) = 129]

[Velvet Covers has invoked a re-roll]

[Third breakpoint reached]



That which is most precious, breakpoints:



60: Selene is many things. She is loyal, she is smart, but she can also be hardheaded and reckless. But she trusts you, and the two of you remain in lockstep. (Selene will not start acting behind your back.)

80: Stormchaser is, without a doubt, the pony who most deeply loves you, and he is the pony who has done so for the longest. It would have been easy for that love to turn into concern. But for now, at least, you have convinced him that you are fine. (You will not have to make a great compromise to placate your family.)

120: Silky Stream may be a bright and observant filly, but she is still just a filly. However, you were able to help her navigate this storm she has just lived through. (You will not have to give reassurances to placate your younger daughters.)

150: How do you convince a young mare, who already lost everything, that it won't happen again? Especially after what just happened? It should not be possible. And yet, here you are… (You will not have to make a promise to placate Soft Sweeps.) [BREAKPOINT NOT REACHED]

Approval voting. Vote for as many options as you want, and the single most voted option will win.

You have successfully addressed your family's concerns, and the fears they felt following the attempt against your life. And apart from the specific vote for Soft Sweeps, no other consequences will arise from that occurrence.

Regarding Soft Sweeps herself, your daughter is almost entirely fine. But a small promise is still needed to put one last nail on this coffin. However, as stated, you don't think she will do anything stupid even if you decide to leave it at that, and not promise her anything at all.

Unreliable narrator? What's that?

Twelve hours moratorium.
 
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What of the hooves in front of you New

The Hooves In Front of You


You are Princess Lu—



You are Sele—



You are...

As you stare at your hooves in front of you, you can only think one thing.

You are a murderer.

It was retribution. It was reasonable. And you know in your heart that it was right.

But even so, these hooves? The ones that sit absently on the worksheet in front of you, with a but a smudge of dirt to mar from morning recess to mar their inky-blue surface? These hooves have taken a life.

You still remember how they felt draped in the warmth of another pony's insides. You were just so frustrated, and you didn't want to let your dying mother down, and you weren't going to let that criminal get away. You moved, and your foe did not, and then her blood was on your hooves.

You scourged them mostly clean when you let loose with your magic in the skies above Manehattan, your foe's lifeblood just another piece of evidence to eradicate. You wouldn't want to be traipsing it around in the streets afterwards. But you can't stop thinking about what you've done, and you can't help but see yourself a—

WHUMP!

You look up with a start, as the classroom bursts into giggles. Ms. Cheerilee has just slammed shut the large dictionary she keeps in the corner — and she did it not two inches away from your muzzle. You can feel your mane ruffle in the outrush of air.

A blush spreads across your face, but your teacher only gives you a kind smile. "Day-dreaming in class, Selene? I know math might not be the most interesting subject, but you never know how important it might be in your future. Who knows, you could be an architect or an engineer or senior policymaker, and need to grapple with numbers every day." She looks up to the rest of the class, raising her voice to continue "And if you're a farmer, you need to track your seed-stock; if you're a field-worker, you need to count your paycheck. What ever you become, you'll be using the lessons you're learning now."

You know she's a good teacher. Silky loves her, and you did too.

But somehow, you don't think she'd say the same if she knew what you're becoming. Or what you already became.

A short piece inspired by the peek we got at Selene last chapter. She's juggling a lot. What she's done, what she's doing, who she is.

I'm not sure if her thoughts get quite this dark. I hope they don't. But I'm definitely glad she's Moth-aligned first and foremost, it can't be easy.
 
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What it means to bargain
You are Velvet Pride.

And right now, you are having a very important conversation.

It is the weekend, and the clock is less than an hour away from striking noon. However, in a departure from the routine you had when you first moved here, you are still in Ponyville. In fact, you have been returning to your home in Canterlot less and less, these past few weeks. And for all that your father clearly instructed you to do so, you think your excuses to refuse his command have been… sufficiently adequate.

Still, your mind is as far away from Canterlot as your body is right now. And again, you are having a very important conversation, which is consuming the entirety of your attention and then some.

This is an important subject. A nerve-wracking subject. Something that keeps you awake at night, and that you are as hesitant to talk about as you are desperate for proper guidance.

And that subject is…



"So, tell me about this mare we have been hearing about back in Canterlot."



As always, your dear uncle is as caring as he is ruthless, and he asks you that question the moment he sits down on one of the chairs of your office.

He has a smile on his face, yes. But then again, he always has a smile on his face. And for all that he is family, and your elder, you can't help but worry if his smile is hiding any judgment.

You can feel your heart thumping inside your chest, and a chill running down your spine.

But still, you invited him here today. You want to have this conversation.

So, you can only hope that you won't mess this up spectacularly.

"Her name is Axe, uncle. Velvet Axe. And she is a…" you brace yourself to deliver the first, and perhaps most egregious piece of information that you have. "… she is an earth pony mare."

You watch as your uncle gives you a sagely nod, his smile not faltering for a second.

Is he surprised? You are absolutely sure that talk about her race has already reached Canterlot. And you know for a fact that your father has more ways to keep track of this estate than just the reports you give him when you meet. But still, you have hoped that reports on your dear beloved had been sketchy at best. So, is your uncle surprised to be hearing this confirmation from your own mouth? That you are not interested in a unicorn, as you should?

Is he surprised? Shocked? Disappointed?

"B-but she is a foreigner! Or so I am told," you quickly continue, nearly tripping over your words as you do. Because he might still have a smile on his face, but you are keenly aware of how well ponies in your family can hide their real emotions. "And truly, you need to see her with your own eyes, uncle. The way she ties her mane, and that entrancing sheen she has on her coat and…"

Another chill runs through your body as you realize how close you are to swooning over your dear Axe, and you immediately clamp up.

You are having this conversation because you hope to win your uncle over! Not to fawn over your distant beloved.

"I mean," you say, getting a hold of yourself and letting out a dry cough. "She is a very interesting mare, uncle. And I was hoping you could advise me on how to proceed with this situation."

You say that, and you realize all too late that you have not been looking at your uncle this entire time. Instead, you have been so nervous that you have been pacing around your office. Quite literally walking circles around the chair your uncle is sitting on.

Still, you only admonish yourself for half a second before you turn to face your uncle again. Trying your best to remember all the lessons you were taught about negotiation.

But your mind goes entirely blank when you look at your uncle, and you realize he has a… very peculiar smile on his face.

"Ohohoh? Is that right, dear nephew?" he says, his eyes narrowed as if he could read something that is written on your horn. "This Axe mare must be quite the something, for you to be like this."

You feel a trickle of sweat forming on the base of your horn. But what in Celestia's name are you supposed to say?

You know that you won't be able to enter any serious relationships unless your father approves it. And you know that, unlike the circumstances that led to your sister marrying a pegasus, your father will probably never approve of you so much as courting an earth pony.

That is, unless you manage to bring your uncle to your side.

But… but how do you do that?

And what does that damn wry smile on his face means?!

"Well then, why don't you tell me a bit more about her?" he says, letting out a cough that couldn't possibly be a chuckle. "Because yes, certain bits and gossips do reach the main house. But some of it is so fragmented or… well, unbelievable, that I'd rather hear it from you, nephew."

You give him a hard nod, one that is perhaps too eager or mechanical. But you understand the subtext of what he is telling you.

This is it. Your battle has begun. And although the fact that your uncle has not immediately kicked you down, as soon as he heard your dear Axe is not a unicorn, is encouraging… well, the fact remains that he is right now probing for more information.

He is still withholding his judgment. Which means you still have a chance to succeed, but also to fail.

"Well, she has quite an adventurous spirit, for starters," you say, trying to paint her in the best light possible. "My Lady sister told me that she frequently sets out to explore parts unknown of Equestria. So she definitely has a wealth of knowledge on several subjects."

You say that, and other things besides. You leave out what your sister told you, about her being rather intractable. And you try to focus (and maybe even embellish) the good things you know about her. Painting her as a wondering foreigner who, naturally, would be a wonderful asset for the Velvet family.

You don't outright lie to your uncle. You don't think you have enough skill to do so. But still… well, you try.

However, your heart sinks more than a little when you finish your tale, and your dear uncle answers you with a dismissive wave of his hoof.

"Yes, yes, that all sounds very wonderful. A picture painted by Princess Cadance herself," he says, and you don't even have enough time to try and figure out what that expression means. "But more importantly, is it true that you fell for her at first sight? Is it true that you ran after her through the garden, and practically bowed down to her on the entrance hall?"

Your heart, that was beating so furiously until a second ago, almost freezes as your uncle so brazenly asks that. As he so quickly asks about that particular story, about that particular day.

And surely, the way he is leaning towards you, and the gleam you see in his eyes, can only be the harsh gaze of judgment, right? Your uncle's posture couldn't possibly mean that he is asking this just for the sake of interest and gossiping, no?

Of course not. Your uncle is one of the ruthless heads of the Velvet family. He would never be hooked in by something as base and simple as a stallion's first love.

Which means that… you are in deep, deep water. Because yes, the first day you met your dear Axe is a day you still hold fondly in your heart. But you also must admit that the way you handled that was the first and greatest mistake you made, when it comes to making your family accept her.

But what in Celestia's name are you supposed to do?! If that story reached the main house so accurately, what hope do you have of downplaying it?

"Well, I," you start to say, and then you stop, your thoughts trampling over each other as you try to figure out how to navigate this. "I would never say the heir of the Velvet family was struck by such a fairytale concept, uncle."

Your uncle coughs. Cantrip, who is standing by the door, also coughs. But your mind is so overwhelmed that you don't even register it.

And yes, they definitely coughed just now. It couldn't possibly be that they are chuckling.

"Instead, it as more that I… immediately saw her value. Yes, that is what happened!" you say, almost triumphantly.

Of course, that's how you will spin this. Make a point of how valuable and unique your beloved Axe is, and make yourself look good by being the first one to spot it!

You can only hope that the detail about her slapping your hoof away never reached the main house, and also that…

"Ah, of course, of course," your uncle says. "Yes, you always had a keen eye, so it makes sense that you would spot a diamond in the rough before anypony else."

You think his chest is trembling a little bit, and at the same time he is hiding his mouth with a hoof. He is probably just scratching his beard, you think.

Cantrip, also, seems to be having some trouble with her maid uniform. Because why else would she be so desperately inspecting her skirt? For what other reason would she have turned her face in another direction so suddenly?

Still, none of that matters. What matters is that it worked! It worked, your uncle bought your story, and you are that much closer to winning him over.

"Still, dear nephew, I am sure that the stories that reach the main house are more than just incomplete. So tell me, what else has been going on between you and this oh-so-interesting mare?"

"Of course! Well, I…" you begin to say, but you quickly trail off. Because what exactly should you tell him? Should you keep to your transactional and asset-oriented story? Should you try to pivot in another direction? "Well, I was able to secure some time with fair Axe. A few weeks ago, when my Lady Sister's daughter got her cutie mark, I managed to schedule with Axe fo-"

"Ohoh, so you asked her out on a date?" your uncle interrupts you, almost standing up from his chair with an inexplicably wide smile on his face.

And you are immediately taken aback. Is this a trap? Have you been lured into an ambush? After all, asking a mare out on a date, without your fathers approval, would be unthinkable. Especially when it comes to an earth pony.

So is this it? Are you done for?!

"I-I…" you stammer, almost taking a half-step back at your uncle's sudden burst of energy. "Of course not, uncle, don't be ridiculous. I merely… managed to schedule… for us to, uh… discuss business, yes. In Canterlot, at a later date."

"Yes, a later date," your uncle says, nodding to himself. "By the way, Cantrip dear could you bring me another glass of this? I think I'm getting quite parched."

He says that, but you are so concerned about his sudden "date" jab that you don't even notice that… well, that his glass of wine is still half full. And that Cantrip almost runs out of the room, as soon as he asks her that. And that a burst of laughter comes from behind the door as soon as your faithful maid leaves your office.

You don't notice any of that, because you are too worried about how easily your uncle has cornered you in this battle of yours.

"B-but unfortunately, well, we were not able to meet," you say, and for all that your voice is urgent, you are truly being sincere right now. "That… that dreadful business that happened with my sister. It left everypony scrambling. And our arrangement just slipped out of our mind, I think."

"Oh, right, that makes sense…" your uncle says, his smile turning into a frown as he thinks about the terrible occurrence that happened to your sister. "But come on, kiddo, you can't just leave her at that. Ask her out again!" he says, once again reigniting his smile.

But you-

"-couldn't possibly do that again, uncle. Asking her out even once was almost impossible to begin with!"

You answer him so quickly that you don't even realize how honest you were, just now. Or how horribly you just slipped.

But who cares? You are right! It can't be done. Asking the rare and radiant Axe out once already required a degree of courage you do not possess. And you couldn't possibly beseech Lady Mareinette's aid once again.

So it can't be done. It simply cannot!

"What you mean you can't do it again? So that's just it?" you uncle asks, "you are just going to let this once-in-a-lifetime mare that has you gobsmacked drift away because you didn't have the guts to ask her out?"

Your uncle says that, and his words cut you oh so deep. Not just because they are harsh, but also because they are true!

What are you doing? Why don't you just ask her out again?!

And not for the first time your mind is overwhelmed by the thought, by the possibilities, of what you could do to win fair Axe's favor. This is a familiar rush, for these thoughts batter against the walls of your mind more often than not. But still, you can't help but feel thrilled, and frightened, as if it was happening for the first time once again.


"Here you go, Lord Steppes. And… and thank you, I just couldn't hold it in any longer."
"No problem, Cantrip. By the way, everything is fine over here. If you would like to take a break for the next hour or so…"
"Oh, not at all. I wouldn't miss this conversation for the world. Speaking of which, did you manage to get him speaking while I was out?"
"Yes, yes, it happened just now. He finally let go of the façade he was trying to build. Things should go more smoothly from now on."


"But uncle, it just isn't that simple!" you finally say, the more cautious (or perhaps cowardly) side of your brain once again winning out. "You haven't met fair Axe yet. You just don't understand!"

You say that, and your barely notice Cantrip walking back towards the door, to keep waiting on both you and your uncle.

Because how could you even spare her a glance? You have much more pressing concerns right now.

"Oh, that's nonsense and you know it, nephew. Just walk up to her and ask her out! You already did it once, so it wouldn't be strange to do it again. And besides, the two of you must talk all the time, for you to be this smitten. So you just need to drop the question during one of your chats."

Your uncle says that, and you…

… you…

… you freeze.

You freeze, because well… it seems one of the few things your uncle didn't quite know has just come to light.

You freeze… and he immediately notices it.

"Hold old," you uncle says, once again narrowing his eyes, as if he could read your thoughts right off from your mane. "You two do speak frequently, right…?"

You don't answer. You don't answer, and you don't open your mouth, and you don't even move.

But alas, such camouflage tactics only work when the predator doesn't already has his eyes on you.

"Nephew, do you mean to tell me…" your uncle says, finally standing up from his chair, walking towards you, and patiently putting a foreleg around your neck in a half hug. And then, he pulls your head towards his, looking you in the eye so closely your horns almost touch. "You mean to tell me you have been swooning over this mare this entire time, and you haven't even properly spoken to her?"

You don't answer. You dare not answer. You wouldn't be able to live with his disappointment if you ever answered.

But your throat… it's just so dry right now.

Your throat is so dry that you can't stop yourself from gulping something down.

And that, you know, is all the answer your uncle needs.

"Princesses' throne, Pride… I thought… wow, we have a lot of work to do," he says to himself, the humor in his face completely eclipsed by a sudden burst of disbelief. "But hay, no time like the present. So be honest, what DO you know about her? And don't give me half-answers or made up stories. Tell me the truth."

He says that and you immediately fold. Your reserves of willpower are all spent, and there is nothing else you can do but scrape and beg for your uncle's aid on this. And if he eventually decides to vouch against your beloved Axe, then so be it.

But right now, you are drowning. You are drowning, and your trusted uncle is the closest thing you have to a lifeline. So, there is nothing you can do but grasp at it.

"Well, I… I know bits and pieces about her schedule. I know there are a few ponies who seem to be on good terms with her. And I think I have a grasp on certain things that she likes."

You say that, and you can only watch as your uncle's expression slowly turns into one of… concern?

By the sun, what the hay did you do wrong now?!

"My dear nephew, I must admit that list is… quite peculiar. Pray tell, how exactly have you learned those things? Especially given how you refuse to talk to this mare?"

He asks that, and for the first time in a long while your eyes finally light up. Because yes, this is definitely something you have a good grasp on.

In fact, you are almost excited to explain him about this!

"Ah, this is one of the secrets I figured out, uncle! Here, let me show you," you say as you go towards the window of your office.

Because this being your office, this is also the place you spend most of your days in. So, you light up your horn to move your lavish office chair, and you reveal to your uncle the item that was hiding behind said chair.

"Nephew, why do you have a telescope hiding behind your chair? And why is it pointing towards your window?" your uncle asks. His voice completely curious, and not at all increasingly worried.

You also hear Cantrip do… something. Yes, of course, she just sighed in approval. Because why would she ever let out a tired "here we go again" sigh?

"As you know, uncle, the window behind my desk has a view of the mansion's garden," you explain. More than just that, you usher your uncle towards you. "And the secret I discovered is that… fair Axe seems to be on good terms with my Lady Sister's daughter! The pegasus one, that is."

"This Axe mare is friends with Silky Stream?" your uncle asks, although his expression is still conflicted as he approaches the telescope. "But what the hay does any of that has to do with this?"

Ah, so that is the pegasus' name? You should try to remember that for the future.

"Just take a look, dear uncle. And you will see the great strides I have made to gaining fair Axe's favor!"

You say that, and you watch as your uncle peers through the telescope.

The telescope is, of course, aimed at one of the corners of the garden. At a particular spot that is under the shade of one of the larger trees.

"Is that…?" he asks.

"Yes! That is a fully furbished tea party," you say, describing the image your uncle is seeing. "I have learned that the little pegasus is quite fond of those, so I have the servants keep that place ready during the afternoon."

You say that, beaming with your namesake pride. And you watch as your uncle takes a confused step away from the telescope, after gazing through it.

No doubt, he is at a loss for words because of how impressed he is!

"And without fail, almost every afternoon, the little pegasus sniffs the tea party out and goes to play with it. Following that, three out of four times fair Axe appears to join her. This is a genius way for me to be able to gaze at her… that is, without any risk of making a mistake!"

"There… there is a term for ponies who do this kind of thing, in the noble circles…"

"Pardon, uncle, what was that?"

"I… Pride, kiddo, let me get this absolutely straight. The way you have been learning about this Axe mare is… by spying her from a distance?" he asks.

To which you can only reply with confusion.

"Spying? Why, I would never! How could you possibly say th-"

"Pride, look at me. Just look at me. You have a telescope aimed at a tea-party shaped trap that you have set up for your niece. All in the hopes of… catching a sight of this Axe?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

You trail off, because your uncle does have a point. At least when you look at this from a very specific perspective.

But still, what else could you possibly do? Every time you spoke with your beloved Axe was an utter disaster! She is so perfect that she is quite literally unreachable. So what hope do you have for joy in this life, if not to simply gaze at her from a distance?

"But still, uncle, well…" you say that as you peer from the telescope, more out of habit than anything else.

And despite your predicament, your heart soars as you realize what you see through the telescope.

"Wait, wait! Look, uncle. The little pegasus is there again!" you say, as you watch the sight of your pegasus niece poking her head out of a nearby bush, gazing at the tea party like a small animal might look at a morsel.

And soon enough, your niece disappears into the bush once again, only to reemerge seconds later with a fancy hat (that, given its size, probably belongs to your Lady Sister) and a rather expensive filly-sized dress.

By the life of you, you have no idea where she gets those things so quickly.

Still, more importantly, you watch as your niece sits down on one of the chairs, and begins pouring herself some tea.

"This is great! And you will see, uncle. I will show you. As soon as Axe appears, you will understand what I mean," you say, still looking through the telescope. "You will understand that… well, that I can't possibly bear to take any risks! Not when a mare like her is on the line."

You say that, and several things more, as you peer through the telescope.

Although, you can't help but realize that… well, that your uncle isn't exactly responding.

And as the seconds stretch long, you can't help but feel a pang of concern because… well, your uncle did seem a little hesitant about this, now that you think about this. The more you recall the expression he had on his face just now, the more you realize that he wasn't impressed as much as he was…

"Uncle… I know… I know this looks, well, rather unsightly. But I promise you, I just need to understand Axe a little better before I…"

You trail off. You trail off because, again, you would never be able to tell a believable lie to your uncle. But more than that, you don't want to lie to him.

You don't want to lie to yourself either.

"Oh, who am I kidding. I just don't know what to do, uncle. Please, please help me. Because every night before I sleep, I think about her. Every day when I wake up, her face is the first thing that comes to my mind. But given how I haven't even been able to converse with her yet, I… I don't… I just…!"

You say that as you let out a long and pained sigh. Shaking your head as you take your eye out of the telescope.

And in truth, you feel truly downtrodden, perhaps even ashamed, as you turn around to face your dear uncle. Because you realize how low you must look in his eyes, right now, and how pathetic and desperate y-…

… wait, what?

"Uncle? Uncle Steppes?" you say, looking around the room.

Because where the hay is your uncle?

You look at the chair he was sitting on, then the corners of your office, until your eyes finally settle on your trusted Cantrip, who is standing by the door with the most awkward and embarrassed of expressions.

"My Lord Pride, your Lord uncle has left… around four minute ago?" she says.

And your heart sinks as, somehow, the exact meaning of this dawns upon you.

It doesn't make any sense. You don't even know how you know this. But you just do. For some reason, you immediately understand exactly what is going on.

You turn your face back towards the telescope so quickly that you almost hurt your neck. And you almost poke your eye with the telescope as you peer into it.

But sure enough, you are immediately greeted by the sight of your pegasus niece sitting on the fancy garden chair, in front of a fully furbished tea table… having a delightful conversation with a noble unicorn wearing a full suit.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth as you realize your uncle simply went there and did something you have never dared to do even in your wildest dreams.

Your hoofs almost scrape the wooden door, as your gallop out of your office and down the stairs, towards the garden.



- - -



How did you end up in this situation?

How could you, you, the youngest son of the Velvet family, be in a place like this? Doing something like this?

"But I must say, Lady River, I was hoping to see your sister here today. It has been too long since I last saw her."

"Ah, but haven't you heard, Lord Mountain? My dear sister has been crowned a Princess! So, she is so very busy now, I am afraid she doesn't have time even for myself."

"Is that quite right? I will make sure to pay Princess Selene my respects then. But do tell, when was the coronation?"

And how can your uncle possibly be so nonchalant about all this?!

You are… you are currently…

There is no way to sugarcoat it. You are at a foal's tea party.

Granted, it is a true tea party in every sense of the word. You did instruct your servants to prepare something like this, after all. So, you are sitting on a nice and comfortable garden chair, in front of a metal-and-glass table, with a teacup and a plate full of sweet treats in front of you. All of that on a nice corner of the central garden, under the shade of a tree, where the wind blows just enough to keep everything cool and comfortable.

But that's not the point.

The point is that, right next to you, is sitting a pegasus filly. You are at a tea party, with a pegasus filly. And to your right, sipping from his tea and engaging in make-belief talk as if nothing was wrong, is your uncle Velvet Steppes.

Or rather, "Lord Mountain", currently discussing crown politiks with "Lady River".

Curse your legs for galloping here. And curse your lack of courage for not turning around the moment your uncle introduced you to your niece.

The only bit of luck you have is that fair Axe herself is not here. After all, you are sure that all the servants are watching, and they must all be laughing their flanks off at the indignity you are going through right now. But still, at least your dear Axe is not here to see you like this.

However, you are suddenly snapped out of your thoughts as "Lord Mountain" magnanimously waves a hoof towards you.

"Now, I realize our good Baron Diamond is not one for words. He is from a distant land, you see, and our language is not yet his forte," your uncle says.

And the condescending nod the little pegasus gives you is… how will your pride ever recover?

"That is quite alright, my good Lord. I am well-acquainted with ponies from distant lands," the filly says, as she reaches for yet another treat from the nearby assortment of pastries.

"Is that right? But it is oh so rare for ponies to come from outside our Princesses' domain. Who is it that you already know, who shares this exotic honor?" your uncle asks.

And despite the turmoil of rebellion and indignities that is coursing through your mind, your thoughts immediately focus as you realize that…

It couldn't possibly, could it?

Is your uncle… did he really plan this far ahead? The way he was steering this make-believe conversation this entire time, could he possibly have been planning for the filly to…?!

"Why, I happen to know one Princess Axe of Snaketon," the filly says, and your ears immediately perk up in attention. "She is also from a distant land, from what I know. And also a mare of very few words."

Your eyes go wide in surprise, and your mouth nearly opens for you to ask something, anything, from the filly.

But before you have the chance to do any of that, your uncle continues to talk as if nothing miraculous had just happened.

"Princess Axe? You live in very good company indeed, Lady River. I am truly privileged to be here with you today."

"Well, I will have you know you are just as good of a company, Lord Mountain."

Their back and forth banter continues. And you need to hold yourself back not to just jump in.

Ask her something more, uncle. Ask her anything. Please!

"Now, good Baron Diamond here, he comes from a very rich region," your uncle says, putting a hoof on your shoulder, as the pegasus filly gives him a long nod with her all-too-large fancy hat. "As his name implies, he is the owner of several deep mines, from which his servants dig up trove upon trove of precious stones."

"That must be quite the impressive sight, my good Baron," the filly says, turning her attention to you for perhaps the second time since you sat down.

She was largely hesitant about your presence, ever since you arrived, until your uncle managed to convince her to rope you into her little play. But now, she is looking at you as if you were one of her own playmates.

And for some reason, despite her being a pegasus, you don't really… mind?

Well, not when she seems to know so much about your beloved.

"Yes… quite the sight…" you say, rather awkwardly. And the filly lets out a small giggle as she mistakes your hesitation for a feigned accent.

"However, he also told me he has been looking to form a business relationship with other foreign ponies. And we were hoping you could help us bridge the gap," your uncle says. And your heart begins to drum inside your chest as you realize where he is taking this. "And I was quite intrigued by this Princess of Snaketon. So, if you don't mind favoring us, how could we best approach her for this business relationship plan our Baron here is hoping for?"

He asks that, and you… you…!

You want to do several things at the same time.

You want to run away, for starters. And you want to shake your uncle for the sheer temerity he has. And you also want to bring out a scroll and pen to write down every last syllable the filly is about to speak.

Because part of you realize you don't deserve this. That whatever secret knowledge this filly has is not meant for a mere and lowly mortal such as yourself. But another part… oh another part of you can't help to yearn for it.

Still, as always, you don't do anything. You are frozen by your own indecision, and you can only watch as fate plays its own cards before you.

Which means you can do nothing but wait, with your mouth closed shut, as the pegasus filly speaks.

"Ah, Princess Axe, yes," she begins to say.

But for some reason, her expression begins to shift. It is hard to say that a filly as young and innocent as her looks serious, but you don't really know any other way to describe it.

She might not even realize it. But for a moment, your niece seems to drop her make-believe act, and her tone becomes strangely focused as she speaks.

"I think, um… promise you won't tell this to anypony, uncle Steppes?" she asks, and your uncle, also with a curious but serious expression, gives her an understanding nod. "Well, I think Axe… I think Axe has a hard time trusting other ponies."

"Trusting other ponies? Why? What made you realize that?" your uncle asks, his voice as smooth as it is encouraging.

"Well, she… I dunno. She never told me that? But there is something about the way she acts that… I think she trusted somepony, once, and she got hurt because of it. Or maybe somepony who she trusted didn't fulfill a promise? I'm not sure," she says, looking down at her teacup as she purses her lips. "But that's the thing, uncle. I think she's scared of trusting other ponies, so she has a hard time doing a lot of things."

"I see… that's very observant of you, Silky. But if you don't mind me asking, and you don't need to answer if you don't want to, what sorts of things does she have a hard time doing?"

"Asking for favors, for starters. Axe is really bad at asking for stuff. She also almost never says please and thank you," the filly says, and her concerned expression breaks a little bit as she laughs at something she just remembered. "I think she just doesn't understand that ponies can be nice to each other? No, it's not that. She just doesn't like the idea of ponies doing favors to each other out of the blue. But, uh, she's actually really nice! I promise you. She's really, really nice if you get to know her."

"Ah, she sounds like quite an interesting mare," your uncle says. And for a moment, he glances in your direction.

But to be honest, you are so busy paying attention to the filly's words you don't even notice your uncle looking at you.

"But if she is so hardheaded like that," your uncle continues, "then what's your secret? How did you become her friend?"

The world shakes around you, as your uncle asks that. And it takes a moment for you to realize that, rather than the world shaking, it was you who was nodding your head to his question.

Because yes, what is your secret? How did you do it?

"Oh, that's easy!" the filly says. And you need to hold your tongue not to call her out on her obvious lie. Because how could it ever be easy?! "Axe loves to make deals. She really, really doesn't like one-sided promises or favors. But you can convince her to do almost anything if you can make a deal with her!"

She says that with a smile, and you… you…

I'm sorry, what?

"And the real trick," the pegasus filly continues, lowering her voice as if she is whispering a secret, "is to pretend to make a deal, when you are actually just doing her a favor."

She says that, and then she gives your uncle a mischievous wink, as if she had just shared with him the most devious of plans.

"Ah, that sounds genius Lady Rivers," your uncle says, smoothly reverting into his haughty persona. Having the filly follow him back into her own game without her even realizing it. "Yes, this will be very helpful to our negotiations and-"



"Who tha fock are these?"



But your uncle Steppes, and the wheels that were spinning inside your head, are suddenly interrupted by a voice. A very familiar voice, coming from a nearby bush.

And sure enough, with the indignant shaking of leaves and the strange sound of something slithering, the most beautiful mare you have ever seen in your life just pokes her head out from the nearby greenery.

Your entire body freezes.

The sun seems to shine more brightly. Every last smell that you feel, from the surrounding nature, suddenly becomes more pleasant. And for all that her piercing, glaring eyes are enough to make you fear for your life, you feel more entranced than anything else.

To even be this close to such a beautiful mare is more than you deserve. To hear her voice, even though you can barely understand her words, is a privilege that is above your station.

But as she walks out of the bush, her braided mane flowing down through her neck like the most intricate maze of knots, you can only think that this has all been worth it. You no longer care about the whispering servants, or the weight of expectations on your back, or even your own father's judgment of you. Because this… this is the place where you want to be.

This is the mare you want to be with, for the rest of your life. Even if the closest you might ever get to her is the distance from your seat to the spot she is standing on.

Still, she looks at you, and then your uncle, and you think she just shrugs as if she barely recognized any of you. And then, she looks at your pegasus niece with her scowling equivalent of curiosity.

However, before she can ask anything else, your niece clears her throat.

"Here, let me show you," she whispers to your uncle.

And then she fixes her posture, and her overly large and fancy hat, like the caricature of a noblemare.

"Princess Axe, it is so lovely to see you here. I trust your travels have been fruity-full?" she says. You think she makes a gesture of sorts, but you have your back turned to the filly and your attention fully aimed at fair Axe, so you cannot be sure. "Still, I know you must be tired from your trip, and that you must be looking forward to an afternoon of rest. But I so much love hearing your stories, so could you possibly be willing to give us some of your time?"

The beautiful mare narrows her beautiful eyes. And you watch as… something slithers out of her mouth. It happened so quickly you couldn't really see what it was. But still, the mystery of that movement only increased her allure.

"Wots in it for me?" she asks.

And the little pegasus answers almost as if she had already been expecting that question.

"Well, I realize your storytelling doesn't come cheap. And we have more guests today. But I do have quite a treasure trove of sweets. So, I was thinking. You give us the pleasure of your company, in exchange for… four cupcakes?"

"Make it six an' we hav' a deal."

"Deal!" the filly answers so quickly she almost interrupts the older mare.

And just like that, the most beautiful mare you have ever seen in your life slinks towards the table, taking a seat right in front of you.

And the filly, who you now think is way too intelligent for a pegasus, gets everything she wants, in exchange for something she was always willing to give away to begin with.

For the next few minutes, she and your uncle seem to have fun as they "negotiate" which cupcakes the mare would get, embellishing their imaginary contract until they finally "concede" to giving the mare one more cupcake.

But still, the end result is all the same. You stay almost a full hour with her, and you listen to her stories, and you even manage to speak a few words for her after much prodding and encouragement from your uncle.

And when a maid comes to summon your niece for lunch, you realize too late that your uncle takes the opportunity to join her and leave you alone with the beautiful Axe.

It takes all the courage you have left to offer her a "deal", and you can only hope that you somehow did not end up putting your hoof in your mouth yet again.

Still, you end that day… thankful.

Thankful to your uncle, of course. But to your absolute surprise, also thankful to a pegasus.
 
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In which the Fountain burns New
The Burning Fountain

Starry Dancer is living up to her name.

She is dancing, for those who are taking a moment too long to figure it out. There are no moments left to figure anything out. There are no moments left at all.

She is dancing. The Master is in danger. She can feel it. The river flows outward and on it there are fallen leaves. Fall comes before Winter. But, after Winter comes Heart. She needs to bridge the gap.

She is dancing. Copper doesn't understand. Nopony understands. They almost hear the words but they forget, unable to push through the wet. They are too weak and so the thunder song distorts them. But they are trying anyway, and so Starry tolerates that weakness.

She is dancing and watching her are the ponies she could convince of the importance, if not the reason for it. They stand around her as she is dancing because they do not understand, but they are trying to understand, so Starry keeps dancing so that they can learn the rhythm so that they can follow along and help her. If they help her then she will be able to do more than she could do alone. Friendship is power, they say.

She is dancing. The last few ponies filter into the room, instruments tightly clutched. Even if they do not understand the reason, they know the methods. It is more difficult to dance without music, and they cannot hear the same song as her. They are making a circle around her, because circles are a continuous shape with the least number of edges and she wants as little Edge as possible. They are lighting matches and lighting lamps and lighting incense that bleeds out smoke in great plumes of rosewood-ash. The light will help them see, hopefully. Otherwise, it is a waste of symbolism. She needs as much symbolism as she can get.

She is dancing. The name of the sound. Hooves against brick. Hooves are made of keratin, like hair. Bricks are made of clay, like the earth. When the bricks crack beneath her hooves she is burying her hair in the earth. But the bricks are fired, and so this will also draw attention instead of just opportunity. She wants to draw attention, so that she can take a burden in place of another. A burden shared is a burden halved, and a wolf halved is what she is drawing the attention of. The opposite of a half is a whole and she is taking the hole and putting it in the walls of the House. It is symbolic. It is also working. The air ripples with ecstatic vibrations, waves crashing to the shore. Now they will no longer keep their hooves weighed to the earth like ore. They will hear and they will learn and they will follow and they will help and they will dance.

She is dancing and they are starting to dance as well. A well is a hole in the earth through which water is drawn. They have drawn a circle in the earth and it is filling with water. They are the water, and as they flow circularly they will enact the river. It is symbolic. The musicians start to play their instruments and the sound suffuses the air like dense fog, so thick that even the greatest water-hunger could be sated if only she would take a bite—no. No. Too far. Thirst is of the Grail, but the dance must be of the Heart if it is to have any effect at all. The Grail will subvert the Heart and so it must be removed. She tells Copper to leave and there is much shouting and begging and telling her of how she will not survive this please Starry don't do this please but she is of the Heart and she will not be denied. She sees that there are tears in Copper's eyes and she tells herself that these are a lie because they are easier to ignore that way. They fall to the ground like spring rain. It is symbolic.

She is dancing and the ponies crowd close around her and they are dancing too, the floor echoing under their hooves and their instruments quivering and their voices all raised and swept up together into a tremendous gyre. In the eye of them all is Starry and she is there dancing with her hooves lively and quick, and then rearing up and stretching her wings wide, haloed from behind like an eclipsing moon. She bows to the east and then to the south and then to the east again and she throws back her head and lets her lungs pump their breath reversed into a great joyous shout and she is dearly loved by all. The chorus sings out that she never sleeps. They say she'll never die. And as she is dancing they can see her blood there dancing with her, veins swelling with tidal force. It rolls and pulses and ebbs and flows and keeps up a constant accompaniment as she closes her eyes and closes her eyes again and swings along the room's edges and takes up one of the timbrels and spins about and makes a circle, two circles, three, dancing and playing and breathing together all at once. Her hooves are light and nimble. She never sleeps, the music cries out. It says she'll never die. And around the lamps the shadows are all dancing and they can see the spark burning in her eyes even through the veils drawn over them and they can see how it whirls about her head and sets it aflame from within and they can see how the inside and the outside reflect each other across her skull. They can see how the fire blooms upon her and drops its petals to all her limbs and chars her skin to sand and boils her blood to tar and sears her hair to smoke and they can see how throughout it all Starry keeps dancing. She dances aboveground and then below, and she is dearly loved. She does not sleep because she is still dancing, dancing. And the dancing, it tells them all that she will never die.



And, long after that day, in small hush-gathered circles, there are still ponies who speak of a mare who saw her stage go up in smoke and chose to keep dancing anyway because she was a dancer, and she knew that if she did not dance then she was nothing. And they say that she was burnt in a great ravenous pyre that gnawed and gnawed and gnawed until there was nothing left of her but the flavor of her bones. And they say that if somepony would to sift through the ashes to find those few barren stalks that are still warm to the touch and lie them down in still water, then it would be almost possible to see the slightest ripples emerge as they keep on shivering back and forth forever.

And they say all this because she will never die.



I've been thinking about Starry lately. We know that she loved the Master, so it seems reasonable that she would have stayed loyal during the schism. We know that she was with Copper in Manehattan when she predicted that the Master was gone, so it seems reasonable that they would work together there. We know that she is like a 'damn Moth prophet,' so it seems reasonable that she would see what Velvet was doing. We know that there are fates worse than death, because the Wolf experiences them continually. We know that it wants to share.

There are many accounts of this History. As the Bird tells us, "she died, in agony, when the Woods burned, as she foolishly tried to save the only thing she had ever loved." As the Worm tells us, "always dying, never dead." And, as the House of Lapsang tells us, "remember our ancestors, when Bird and Worm were one." Perhaps it is an enigma that will never be solved.
 
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In which a gift is ordered New
We have Hearth's Warming this turn.

Then we'll have to go shopping.




A Gift For The Mare Who Can Find Anything

You are Velvet Covers, and you are, oh what is the term?

Vexed.

Yes, that's the word, you are most profoundly vexed. Confound all ascetic, mortality-discarding, "oh I've read that already" Lantern Names! You've gotten all of your Hearth's Warming shopping done, for your family, your friends, and even your various Guests, except for Baldomare. And she knows it too!

Oh yes, even if "Good" Baldomare hasn't said a word you can tell she knows what a frustration she's being, the smugness is unremitting. You don't ask much, all you need for a proper Hearth's Warming gift is something that the recipient will appreciate, and just as importantly something that will surprise them. You're generally an expert gift-giver, if you do say so yourself, and the unexpected surprise of a well-chosen present is the best part!

Unfortunately, all of that becomes rather difficult when the mare you're trying to get a present for is the Name of surprise-spoiling Lantern.

Perhaps a walk will clear your head, it is very early yet but the weather teams have scheduled a very mild winter. You let Stormchaser know you're going into town and you set off down the road.

.
.
.

You are Velvet Covers and the brume this morning is quite remarkable. You can barely see your hoof in front of your face as you cross the bridge on your way into town. Though you see a few lights on in the various shops it appears that no one is up and about yet, the fog is so thick as to render the place nearly unrecognizable. The post office though you can tell, is clearly open, perhaps they've received the latest catalogues?

The bell on the post office door chimes sharply as you open it, a few curling tendrils of the ever-present brume wisping in with you as you trot up to the desk. Behind the desk, the figure sorting mail into a series of cubbyholes stills at the sound of your hooves before turning to face you.

The Postmistress regards you with a raised eyebrow, saying nothing. You resist the urge to fidget, wondering if you've somehow gotten something on your muzzle or if your dress is askew. You know you haven't, but dear Celestia this mare could give PonPon a run for her money! Just before the silence becomes truly awkward she relents.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Ah! Yes! That is, yes I was wondering if the newest catalogues have come in yet? The holidays are just around the corner you know and I have been having the worst time finding a gift for a friend of mine..." You ramble somewhat aimlessly for a moment or two, you're not quite certain why you're so distracted today but the mare patiently weathers your dithering before gesturing with one hand to a rack along the wall.

"The new forms from T.R.N. Limited have arrived, the catalogues themselves stay here but I can post an order for you if you wish to browse."

You thank The Postmistress for her help, and it's honestly a relief when that piercing gaze returns to meticulously sorting the mail. Trotting over to the catalogue display you find the one belonging to "T.R.N. Limited" without much difficulty. Somewhat disappointingly the company proves to be some sort of wholesale grocer specializing in exotic foodstuffs, (and, arsenic? Surely that is a typo...) with a particular focus on spirits. Humph, as if you needed any help acquiring alcohol considering your home's proximity to Equestria's finest vineyards. On the other hoof...

[On the vineyards of Equestria and Beyond, breakpoints ???]

[Roll: 59 11 +14 (Learning)+20 (Secret Histories) =93]

[Velvet Covers has invoked a re-roll]

[Your Memory Is Very Foggy Today]

Armagnac? That's an uncommon offering to find even in a Canterlot specialty shop, let alone a post office order form. For that matter you are quite certain of your familiarity with the various Prench distilleries that produce the stuff, and you've never heard of "d'Ys". You'd dismiss it as a cheap imitation intended to prey on ignorant rural townsponies but, glancing back at The Postmistress, you somehow feel that nothing fraudulent would ever be permitted here.

Returning to the counter with the catalogue lightly gripped in your magic you wait patiently as The Postmistress transmits an outbound message over the telegraph on the countertop. Her speed and accuracy is impressive, to your knowledge telegraphs are a very new Equestrian invention yet her hand is steady and unhesitating. In only a few moments the message is sent and The Postmistress's attention is once again focused on you.

"Well then? Do you have an order for me?"

"Yes, I would like to put in an order for a case of the Armagnac d'Ys", you gesture to the entry in question on the catalogue as you place it on the countertop along with an appropriate amount of bits.

The Postmistress raises an eyebrow, but she fills out, signs and seals the order, and places it in the place that stamped orders are properly placed.

"Wait three days."

Somehow you don't doubt that the form will absolutely be delivered, and that in precisely three days your order will arrive. With that you take your leave, the day isn't getting any younger and Silky will be waking up soon. As you step out of the door back into the morning fog you vaguely hear The Postmistress mutter something that sounds like...

"Numa."



The idea's been rattling around in my head for a while, especially since I saw a particular character illustration. I hope to write the followup at some point, but for the moment we'll stop here.
8tfm8ws5n26e1.jpeg
 
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The Day Before Hearth's Warming New
The Day Before Hearth's Warming

'Twas the day before Hearth's Warming, and all through the estate, ponies were preparing for the holiday.

In the most prominent house, a couple put the finishing touches on the decorations. One levitated the holly into place, the other hovered to carefully affix it to the mantle — but the details of what they were doing were not important either, solely the fact that they were doing it together.

Dashing through the corridors like she was practicing flying, their youngest daughter was delivering hand-written cards to the house's most important guests. One of them knew what it said before she opened the envelope, another cared more to remind the filly that she'd be warmer in his cap than about any sentimental prose, and the third dinnae ken tha' point of this fookin writin' but still accepted the card as payment for fifteen minutes worth of stories. Still, the filly cared about Hearth's Warming and cared about them, and in their own way, each of the guests cared as well.

The maids scurried to and fro, finishing their work while exchanging gossip and well-wishes and discussions of what the next day's break would see them doing. Many would gather at the estate to join in the celebrations, but one in particular mentioned she would also be visiting friends, who were very much looking forward to the occasion.

An uncle sat alone in a cozy chair, lost in thought. A brother fretted over the half-dozen gifts he had planned to give, thinking over how they could be made into exchanges instead. A princess stared from the roof into the snowy sky, a slight smile on her face, as she considered how far she has come in the past year, and how far she has yet to go.

And of course, a small way's off, a monster prepared as —

Well. She did, but tragically that most honoured of guests will not be this story's starring character. Though she undoubtedly remains at the center of it, all the same.

No, to find today's protagonists, you'll have to take a step in another direction. Not north or south or east or west, not up or down, not left or right. Take a step in a fourth direction.



Here, you'll find another house, just as central to the estate yet never seen by its denizens (except one, perhaps.)

Yet walk inside, and you'll find it is just as full of activity.

In a corner, a white-blue Pokémon works hard at an easel, painting with watercolours as a complement to what the Primarina normally does with words. For all the work demands focus, nothing in the room -- not a single stray line of dialogue, or peculiar choice of wording -- escapes this thoughtful artist's notice.

A strange figure, dressed all in black and bearing a sword, knocks at the front door with one hand. The other is dragging… what was once a quite beautiful pony, but is now undoubtedly a corpse. For all he insists that "Copper is my plus one!" and "she did nothing wrong!" and "it's all explained in this ten thousand word treatise!", he's not allowed in until he pushes the body roughly into the snowbank with a whispered promise that he'll be back for her soon. But then he is eagerly welcomed, a cup of lush cider pressed into his hands.

Above the fireplace there is a mantel laden with dice, and above that mantel a spider spins a web. It has some intricate decorations, some truly bizarre ventures, and if you look from afar you can make out what he's spinning now — it seems like some glorious fire or star, surrounded by increasingly frantic arrows.

In front of the fireplace, a just-as-firey white wolf has curled up, enjoying the way the warmth feels on her newly adopted flesh (it allows so much more sensation than the black hole ever did!). Still, she will not let the cozy crackling drag her to slumber any time soon. Instead, she exchanges words with a strange person nearby, dressed all in black and white. They've been interlocutors for years now, and yet to run out of conversation.

A great dragon has even squeezed itself into the house, with minimal disruption to the furniture. It wishes there were more friends around ("they say friendship is magic, but really it's an economic engine!"), but that hasn't stopped it from adorning the wall behind it with some of the abode's most impressive decorations. They shade from colour to colour in a beautiful gradient, and add a new artistry to the abode. In conversation with the dragon is one of the few guests that can match its stature, an impressive tigersaurus, whose talons flash through the air as it gestures to make a point. It is deep in conversation, but all the same, it doesn't let any guest into the house without giving them their share of thumbs-up badges.

Lounging on a chair, a dark wolf's thoughts turn to an idea at the center of this holiday -- family. The wolf doesn't earn much in the way of looks askance -- though this house is rife with wolf-related paranoia, this one in particular is always a welcome guest. Nearby, a Fall Maiden has paused in sharing their unique perspective, taking a break from combatting (or is it embracing?) that paranoia to instead sip on a blood-red cup of mulled wine.

Hovering high above the gathering, a floating eye looks up from its close review of some pages levitating next to it, and with focused blinks it begins a 'dialogue' of sorts with the blue-white pattern that decorates wall nearby. A forge-draped figure exchanges words with one similarly steeped in knock, with... is that the tricuspid gate itself?! joining in from time to time.

A few seats are left empty, a few glasses are filled but remain undrunk. There are absent friends, and places lost to ash.

Just as that other manor house has been so recently reminded, there is loss and pain. These things are certain in life. Yet that truth should only serve as a reminder of how grateful we should be for ongoing joy and company.

With a hush, the room goes quiet, and all eyes turn to a large mirror on the wall, which shows the world left behind in that strange, fourth, direction.

The scene zooms in past birds flitting by, and lands on a certain Monster who looks particularly self-satisfied today. What, you thought you could leave her behind? Impossible, she is as vital here as blood or a heartbeat is to the body.

And all watch, as Mareinette, Our Lady of Wires, begins to dance.

It's been a long and eventful year. But throughout it, and though it seemed rocky at times, this story has been a source of joy and fun. Thanks to everyone who makes that possible: from Bird for writing it, to all you who comment and vote and make this thread a fun place to be, to everyone reading this, lurkers included.

Happy holidays!
 
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In which the sisters have a magical night New
The Sisters' Magical Night

You are Soft Sweeps, and today, you are busy!

"Ngh!" you grunted as you finally placed the last item on the floor of the barn you are in.

Frankly, you didn't think that you would be able to get it all prepared so quickly, but a single comment in frustration suddenly had the entire grief support group taking the time out of their days to help you get everything you needed ready. Whacky especially seemed to know multiple places where you could get the right supplies to do this. Still, you were almost ready to pull off the biggest surprise of someone's life!

Taking a step back, you beheld everyone's efforts with no small amount of pride! A pain staking effort made from sweat, blood, and tears.

Five sealed Windigo jars.

In truth, the hardest part of all this was just finding the right time to pass off the supplies when they wouldn't be needed by Mrs. Velvet. A cold memento and a little piece of metal meant you had everything you needed to get started, and it went better than you could have imagined.

You nodded to yourself. Asking Mrs. Velvet to teach you a way to protect her and everything important to her was about to pay off!

…Except there was still a problem.

How exactly were you going to get these to where you need them?

Your support group has already done more than enough for your efforts unprompted. Asking for anything more would feel grossly impolite but delivering them was gonna be difficult as a one pony job. You want to surprise Mrs. Velvet by taking care of her worries! And you couldn't do that if you took too long.

Still, needs must after all, so you'll just have to fib some-

"What'cha doing?" a squeaky voice sounds next to your ear.

Failing to stifle a squeal, you swerved your body around with a flap of your wings only to see-

"Silky!?" you gasped out with a hoof raised to your chest, "What are you doing here!?"

Silky's expression slumped. "I'm bored," she waved a hoof around limply, flitting her wings to stay afloat. "Mom, dad, and Selene still aren't home yet and everyone else seems busy. So I started practicing flying. Then I saw you pulling a cart over here, so I came to check it out!" Perking up again, Silky gave you a big smile. "Sooo, what'cha doing?"

Right, that. "I'm um, uh…" You look at her, fumbling for some kind of explanation. You can't exactly tell her you've been summoning esoteric creatures to attack one of her mom's enemies. Turning, your eyes take in the five jars nearby, and- "…I've been making- making cookies! To send to Mrs. Velvet's fo- FRIEND who owned the building where she used to meet for her old, uh, book club. It's an, um, belated Hearth's Warming gift…?"

There was complete silence in the barn. You could feel your fur standing on end as the embarrassment started to slip inside your skin. It feels as if even the sealed Windigos were speechless from your claim, as if they were too confused at being called cookie jars to remember to hate that they were called that. You open your mouth to at least try and salvage-

"REALLY!?" Silky shouted with a zip up to your face. With a short step back, you recognize her expression is the one where she's about to start- "That's a lot of cookies! How'd you make so many? What flavors are they? Why'd you keep it a secret? I would've helped! Did mom ask you to help with this? Can I have some!?" She started to fly right past you towards one of the jars.

"I got a lot of help from some friends, snowballs and gingerbread, because I want to surprise Mrs. Velvet by doing this for her, no she doesn't know, no you can't have any they're not for you," your mouth answered as you reached out to gently turn her back towards you. Her sweet tooth has caused many struggles, but it's at least something you know how to handle. "These are for Mrs. Velvet's friend and only her friend. I just finished packing them all up for delivery, so I'm putting them here for a moment until I can deliver them in the evening"

"So you just need to deliver them? Can I come? Please? Pleasepleasepleaseplease? I'm so boooored. Pleeeeeease?" Silky started to beg with those puppy dog eyes of hers. Unfortunately for her, you are an older sister.

"No Silky you… can't…" your mind slowed to a halt, considering the answer to all your problems.

You could probably get these to their destination alone if you took enough breaks on the way, but you wouldn't be back until the midmorning past the beginning of your shift. It wouldn't do for you to miss any more work after being given so many days off over the year. Silky was young, but even her efforts in helping to move your small cart would lessen the load significantly, meaning you would need to take less breaks and be back in time for your shift and for Silky to go to school.

There's also the matter of how you were gonna sneak the jars into his home undetected. Silky is better than you are at being quiet.

"…Actually, maybe you can help me deliver them!" you finished with a big smile towards Silky. Her expression immediately mirrored yours.

"YES!" she jumped right back into the air. Her excitement was almost contagious. "When do we go!?"

"We'll go this evening after dinner. Just meet me here an hour after. It's a couple towns away, so we'll have to fly through most of the night. We'll take plenty of breaks though." You gave her a firm look. "But remember that we're giving these gifts in secret. It's supposed to be a surprise for everyone involved, so we're just going over there, quietly leaving the gifts inside, and then coming right back. And you never tell ANYONE we did this. Understand?"

"If it's a secret, can I have a code name then?" she whispered with wide eyes.

"Uh, sure. You can be… uh…" you racked your mind for a good name to indulge her. Looking around you, you answered "…Stable Hooves! The secret gift giver, Stable Hooves. And I'll be Rosy Glow, who takes you through the night to your destination," you finished with a long, slow wave of your hoof.

"Awesome!" Stable Hooves shouted. She was shaking with excitement. "I'll be here on the dot. Thanks Soft!" she gave a quick hug around your neck before dashing off with a "Woo-hoo!" that she couldn't hold in. Your lips curved into a little smile.

Keeping Silky happy, doing your maidly duty, and making mother proud. Tonight was gonna be a magical night!

I'm not the kind of person that does much writing, but the idea has been in my head for most of the last week and I needed to get it out. I had two inspirations that formed this.

The first was that I noticed like many of you did that turn 9 was our last Hearth's Warming and it is now turn 21 while we are in our own holiday season. Sometimes we get to have nice coincidences like that, and it has been an enjoyable time reaching for Glory with all of you this past month. I'm glad to be a part of this quest with you all and hope to remain for a long time to come, running around like headless chickens all the while.

The second inspiration was this:
I mean, the stuff I had in mind for her requests were "buy me a cute dress" or "teach me how to summon Windigos" or "half-siblings or not, please approve of my marriage with Evil" :V
and the idea hit me like a truck. So really, OurLadyOfWires, this is your fault. :V

Finally a couple loose ends to take care of:
We need way more of Soft spending time with her little sisters, and I'm mostly convinced that Silky is MOTH and KNOCK aligned. I won't explain why here, but I think it fits the bill, and it played perfectly for the theme of family and holidays that I was going for here.
Yes, they are going to deliver to you-know-who, the background of why Soft is sending Windigos there and how she knows where he lives are beyond the scope of the story, but there are plenty of ways to fill in the blanks.
Yes, Gingerbread. Probably one of the only times you can ever make this Edge colored, but it works when you get it.

And with that, I hope everyone has a happy holiday on this merriest of nights!
 
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In Which (S) Collide Part 6 New
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In Which (S) Collide Part 6

I think for some of yous Christmas isn't over yet. Anyway, here is a holiday gift. This segment fought me quite a bit, like trying to pet a wolf while making sure your mouth doesn't get licked.

I also realized that Reading the Record needs to apply to diplomacy contests as well :/ that's what I get for not writing finish the entire series before posting.

Wait, where the fuck did I get that +26 bonus from? Shit, now I have to try and mindread my past self. Assuming that SH applies, that's +20 for 'finding something', as in finding out the future or finding out the telegraphed AoE splash zones to avoid, then I guess apply Martial 9 during combat so it's +29? But where's the +6 from?? Did I seriously get confused with + 25 + 1?

And wait, did I really edit out the narration of casting Ultimate Fate Works with Velvet's Brand? This is what I get for not writing completely the entire series before posting :/

Same for the Twilight interlude - Twilight didn't apologize to her friends at all.

Previously:

"Are you the one who's been hurting my sister out there?" Celestia's voice is a terrible, terrible calm that belies the immense burning fury threatening to explode out of her grasp.

"[MOTH]..."

"I'm going to fucking kill you now."

The Horse of the Sun has arrived.



Slowly, Mareinette takes a few steps backwards, keeping both sides in view.

You eye Celestia nervously. Side by side that you and her are, or rather, between Celestia and Selene that you currently are, you feel... something. Something strange – something that's not a part of any Lore that you know, and yet still feels familiar and almost welcoming. Like warmth.

But you don't have time to examine it carefully. As you watch, Mareinette's jaws unhinge. All of them. White cartilage shine along the deep darkness of her throats like lights in a tunnel, or a snake. The blood rubies that are her eyes glisten like overripe fruits and almost seem to grow, as if to take in everything that is Celestia's golden sun. In a moment that seems to stretch on, the song of her heart rumbles throughout heaven and earth.

And for that moment in time, you stare into her abyss.

Then a blinding white-hot comet smashes into her face.

Celestia activates No Holds Barred! +30 to her Combat!

Celestia is not trying to prevent you and your allies from escaping, so escape rolls auto-succeed. However, due to No Holds Barred, you and your allies must roll against her combat for injury.

Celestia: 67 + 90 ('Alicorn Combat: Celestia') + 30 ('No Holds Barred') = 187

Reading the Record: 92 + 29 = 121, 6th​ breakpoint reached!

Velvet Covers: 76 + 29 (Combat Bonus) + 60 (Reading the Record) = 165, Pass
Selene: 70 + 90 ('Alicorn Combat: Luna') = 160, Pass
Alt!Stormchaser: 70 + 10 (Combat Bonus) = 80, Fail
Jade Whistle: 84 + 6 (Combat Bonus) = 90, Fail
Comet Feet: 12 + 39 = 51, Fail
Baldomare: 82 + 30 (General Bonus) = 112, Fail

Some loose instinct in the back of your brain has you throwing up a barrier over everypony, and in the next moment you're already careening through the air in a flickering sphere, shut eyes not helping at all as heaven and earth trade places like hot cakes, not even having the time for thoughts before you smash back down through several branches and trees and the barrier breaks, its magic spent. You lean over and retch. For a moment, that's the only thing you can do.

Then you get back up. Everypony! Is everypony alright?

Baldomare is already there, and Selene is alighting beside you, and you can smell Comet Feet coming from... oh. Oh dear. Oh – fuck!

You gallop forward to them, the smell of iron souring your nose, and help Comet Feet carry your husband and Jade further into the small clearing you had made with your body.

They're injured, heavily. Jade's eyes are closed and she's breathing laboriously, and your husband is... he smiles at you. It's not fair. It's not fair how much you love him, and it's not fair that for all of your love for him – that you still can't prevent him from being harmed.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck, but despite it being muffled, you still can't quite miss the soft sound that Selene made, like a stiletto sliding between your ribs.

The ground rumbles, and you wish you could ignore it. But Stormchaser – he still gently pushes you away. "I'll be fine, my little horseshoe." And you hate, you hate it so much. "I just need to take a small nap," he tells you. "And I'll be right as rain afterwards. You take good care of yourself, okay?"
Your words get stuck in your throat so you just wordlessly nod.

"And Selene, take care of your mother for me. I'm just going to take... a short rest..." Slowly with your help, he bends to the floor and closes his eyes. There's a soft sound like a page turning, or a rose being placed into a bouquet, and you can't feel his brand anymore. Stormchaser – your Stormchaser, though the difference is arbitrary – lies there now, uninjured but still asleep. His chest rises and falls and his expression is unlabored.

You wipe your face and try to untie the knot in your heart. And as you do, you realize something.

Separating from him was like wounding yourself. Like the blood on your hoofs was yours as well. And you can't help but compare what you felt and are feeling right now to Mareinette's philosophy. As you look up, you see the light shining a path through the woods, giving you an aperture to look at the battlefield. Through a lens, darkly.

In the distance, two titans dueled. One of an unceasing pulsing hunger, one of incandescent divine wrath. Flesh burnt and carbonized by the other sloughed off and regenerated. Galeforce and snapping limbs went ignored or were dodged entirely. A monster tries to swallow the burning sun.

Mareinette is a shadowy titan in the fire and smoke, clashing again and again against a white-hot comet. For a split moment, Princess Celestia of Esquestria rears her head back, the halo behind her a blazing incandescent sun of divine wrath, pillars of light erupting from the earth and descending from the heavens, a thunderstorm manifest except the raindrops are fire and lances of light. Projectiles fire off in every direction, unheeding of collateral damage.

It's an attack that you are not in the ballpark of, you are nowhere near this ballpark, you are outside of this ballpark, the ballpark is in another city, this attack has literally changed the landscape.

Essentially, fire. Fire everywhere.

It was a scene of utter desolation. This is not a fight you can really contribute to.


But ignore all of that for a moment. Look at Mareinette.

Look into her eyes and her abyss.

And you think you can understand, just a little.

To give and give and to keep giving, yet always finding yourself left behind and alone. Desperately reaching out with outstretched hooves, but everypony else keeps saying goodbye. So maybe it's your fault. Maybe you're not giving enough. And you give, and give, like boiling an empty kettle, like removing bits and pieces to feed others and please ponies, until you're unsure if you're even living at all. Somehow managing to convince everypony that you're fine despite howling and screaming in loneliness.

No wonder you want returns – you want to show that you're useful, you want to show that your actions weren't worth nothing, but more than that, you want ponies not to leave you alone.

And then one day you make a mistake. A mistake only a monster could make.

What happens when somepony who is able to convince the world itself was wrong - - turned that power onto herself?

Convince yourself that you are a monster. And a monster would do monstrous acts, right? And they wouldn't feel guilty about it. A monster would enjoy doing them, even. And as you commit more and more, the easier it is to convince yourself that you are a monster, and the easier it becomes to hurt others.

A self-deception as volatile as it is potent, and frighteningly... self-sustaining.

Becoming an absence in the world, or an eternal hunger, a void that only knows how to consume. A cup that can't be filled - an empty mare.

You had once looked into that abyss, to remove a fear that you had - but even then, it was only a glance. You didn't stare. Now the abyss is staring back.

And you see yourself in it. You could have been this pony.


...or maybe this isn't what happened at all, and you're just projecting. Trying, desperately, to see something worth redemption. Because it means that you could be redeemed as well.

But can you risk that? Can you even risk that chance of Mareinette winning? Even now, whatever material she's made out of is regenerating, even now she looms from the smoke. And all she has to do is outlast Celestia until the toxic fumes from her vitality overwhelms the Princess of the Sun.


You realize... you're not strong enough to be able to offer that mercy.

And so the moment passes. Your mind focuses. Due to the Illumination, Mareinette can't hide, but mortal beings will find it difficult to fight on the frontlines of this battle, and may even be snatched up to boost Mareinette even further.

Oh. She may not be able to hide, but she can run to Ponyville and use any of the hundreds of ponies there. Blood is the currency of the world. A hot flash runs up your neck. Did you really think you could kill a monster so easily?

Killing her would require a Name. A Name, you realize, you have the summons for.

Simultaneously, an understanding crystallizes. If you don't stop Mareinette, she will swallow Esquestria's sun. And then she'll come for your daughter.

And you can't let that happen.



Current Allied Status:
Stormchaser – INCAPACITATED
Jade Whistle – INCAPACITATED
Comet Feet – 1/3
Baldomare – 1/2
Selene – 4/4
Velvet Covers – 2/2

Who do you send to support Princess Celestia?
[] Write-in

Who will help you in the summoning ritual (pick one)?
[] No One
[] Write-in

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In which one Struggles and Climbs New
To Struggle and Climb

You are Ashen Weaver, and you have started to realize something.

There are certain truths about the world as it is. Truths that belong to Honesty. After all, The nature of Light is to reveal, to make things known. It is Honest, True, a Lantern Light in the mist; and sadly, it so rarely has the chance to be Kind. But that doesn't matter. What matters… is that you have figured out a few important Truths.

Light is Honest, revealing and merciless. The Kindness of ponies filters Honest truth in Generous sweetness. It makes things more palatable. Loyalty ensures Honesty remains, while Kind Generosity brings out the best of the Light and Laughter helps soothe the harsher truths. The odd man out in the cute little five-man band of Harmony is Magic, which… it feels like there is a better name for Magic, as Magic itself seems like more a byproduct than the purpose and aspect mixed in.

But the fact of the matter is… you cannot lie to yourself. To burn the brightest you can, to share light and help it grow, you cannot remove that most fundamental and foundational key. Honesty remains the back on which everything else grows and can form, everything else is a Filter for it. You cannot lie and expect any kindness, generosity, or laughter to be true. Loyalty, by its nature, IS Honest. To be loyal, how can you lie to a friend?

Thus, your issue.

The nightmares have not stopped. The wolves prowl through your dreams, haunt your nightmares, and rest atop you in those rare days when your chest is heavy with paralysis before you can fully wake up. The creature chuffing in amusement and baring fangs in a hollow, aching smile of promised pain… promised Agony.

No, you cannot spread the light while lying to yourself anymore. You tried, for a month, and it failed. So… you stepped into a dream. You found some arcane secret kept intentionally or accidentally hidden from ponykind, and now you were in the thick of things. You could not play the blind fool any longer, and you refused to be another tragedy. So… how could you bring the light back? Well… Honesty was knowledge. Generosity and Kindness, even Laughter and Magic required knowledge. Every aspect of the elements spoken of so frequently in mythology surrounding the Sisters had knowledge within it. It was not an element, but something somehow even more foundational.

So, you needed knowledge. You knew of no one who had explored this place, nor anyone who could tell you the Honest truths you needed so badly. So… what else to do, but start actively exploring yourself? If nothing else, when you inevitably told others, you would at least know what pitfalls they could avoid.

As you climbed up to your apartment after a long day of physical labor, backbreaking for any other less physically gifted race, you considered your options and slowly nodded to yourself. You were determined to explore this 'Mansus' place, to face the wolf again.

This time, you knew what to expect. You settled into place properly, relaxed your breathing, cautiously clipping a section of your mane and settling in. You looked at the calendar as you settled in to rest. Hearthswarming would be soon… you needed to speak to your neighbors about how to start some event for the city… to spite the tragedy if nothing else. To mourn those lost, and celebrate those who survived. To show that they were not broken or made lesser by those monsters

But those were thoughts for another time. Sucking in a breath, you lay down, looking at your empty bed and pondering on the odd feeling of Love that had hovered in your chest ever since the wedding. You… you wanted it. Somepony special to share your heart with, to build a life with. To be together with in this nightmare…

But you were alone. More than ever since the tragedy of not long ago…

Those lingering sorrows followed you down into what should have been a nightmare, and instead… you opened your eyes. Before you was a crossroads, a mess of winding paths… a place you had been before. You started walking, remembering the small trickle of secrets from the pamphlet. To be lost is to find your way. To know nothing, is to know everything. To be blind, is to see.

All idiotic rambling of somepony trying to be philosophical, but the main points, the meaning behind it… Well. That was something you grasped. Chaos, secrets, uncertainty. The world is full of wonder and horror, full of impossible truths and painfully realistic lies. The only way to tell them apart is to seek. To chase after that most precious and wonderous of things… the Light.

The very essence of the secrets in that pamphlet had all been surrounding the seeking of Light. Of something more pure and foundational to creation than anything else you could imagine or think of. Which made sense for a 'principle' called 'Moth'. It felt… right, as well. To chase the Light, like you had all your life.

So, you looked up. There was… the wasteland made seeing much beyond the heat and glare difficult, but there was… a Beacon. A Light. It was important, guiding, revealing the path, the way, the course that needed to be set. So you fixed your gaze on the Light, and started walking. You felt the path turn and twist under you, but ignored where your hooves took you, as long as your gaze remained fixed. And… and you yelped when you felt the burn of the Ash under your hooves.

It… you'd made it. To the ashen, sandy wastes. It… in truth, there was never any sand here, naught but ash, and the feeling of loss. It ached alongside the tragedy of what had been lost in the waking world, the truth reflected in this twisted dream. Still, whatever the case may have been in the past, you were here now, in a horrid wasteland of loss, ash, and laughing Wolves.

Every step was painful, a sharp, stabbing pain reminding you not to tarry. You felt, in some corner of your being, that you should try to fix this- to undo the tragedy, soothe the pain, and cool the heat. To make some fresh growth form out of this ashen nightmare. But you… you didn't know how. You were uncertain how to even keep yourself safe rigt now, much less how to heal this wound. Sadly, you were not talented in the healing of lands.

But… you may not have been specialized for repairing the lost ecosystem of this place, nor were you even sure how to start, but one thing you COULD do, was pave the path. Lead the way for others who knew more than yourself. You would become an expert in this place, learn its secrets, and share them with those that could help.

You pressed on, eyes fixed on the Beacon. You didn't know what you didn't know, but you DID know that you needed to reach that Light. Of course, the shift of Ash in front of you had you pause, and you slowly lowered your gaze. There, in the ash, sitting as though it had been there all along, was a wolf. A wolf already looking up at you with malice and gleeful cruelty.

You held back your shivers and fear, knowing it could still tell, but unwilling to grant it the satisfaction of seeing how badly it frightened you. Instead, you frowned, keeping your gaze on it. It bared its teeth in what could have been a grin, or a snarl- it was so hard to tell with its maw so cruel and full of sharp teeth… so harshly and hatefully eager to tear flesh from bone. The Pale fur and Yellow eyes haunting his mind as the Bloody teeth remained exposed.

"I see you finally came back… what took you so long? I've been wanting to say hello again for ever-so long…~" You found yourself shuddering as the mere sound of it left you aching inside, like your ears had been assaulted by some kind of torment- sandpaper layered in salt and glass shards, delicately avoiding the fragile parts and running roughshod across the less easily broken parts.

You swallowed, dearly wishing to step back, but… then it would sense weakness and chase. Instead, you refused to dignify it with a response. You walked past, giving it a Generous berth and doing it the Kindness of leaving it in peace. It flinched slightly at that, barely an ear twitch, but… you noticed. How could you not? It growled louder as you slowly moved to leave it behind, remaining fixed on the beacon. Though… you had to turn and leave your back turned if you wanted to continue. Could you make it…?

You turned and ran in the moment between one heartbeat and the next, hearing a howl the instant your gaze left the creature, and you could FEEL the ash shift under you, every step suddenly harder giving less power than expected. You were slower than you should be, and losing distance with every hoofstep of your gallop. The beast seemed able to glide across the ash, and the very ashen soil beneath your hooves clung to and dragged at you.

You heaved in air, air gushing out with each exhale as you pushed your innate Earth Pony strength into your legs and powered through the sheer awful burning, cloying ache of the ash as it dug into your hooves. Glancing up revealed the Beacon still in the distance…

And now far to the left. The very ground beneath you seemed to shift, guiding you further from your destination, and in some other direction. You gritted your teeth, already struggling to stay ahead of what felt like the beast snapping at your rear hooves- you couldn't even look back, too busy fighting to move forward.

You knew that wherever the beast was taking you would be horrendous, an awful experience, but you had to go through with it. To face this danger so you could prepare yourself and others to face it again in the future more safely. As it hounded your steps, you saw the temple you'd visited and fled last time in the distance, the awful thing full of horrendous and bloody knowledge you had refused to act on.

You knew… awful things because of that place. But it wasn't your destination, as you curved yourself away, and it vanished from view between one eye blink and the next. Just as rapidly, you could feel exhaustion beginning to fill your limbs, but you pressed on. You were asleep, it wasn't real exhaustion. You ignored it, and it faded as you pressed on. Though you suspected that you'd be paying for it later somehow.

Of course, when you eventually did find the place it was leading you, you dearly wished you hadn't. Here, a faint mist of ruddy, Brackish Fluid filled the air in a fine mist that seared with every touch against your fur. As you pressed on, bearing the agony with force of will, you saw the source. A massive and growing pool of Horrid Red that gushed from high above and fell below.

You had no idea how this had formed, or why a waterfall of horrendously Agonizing Blood would be falling from the sky, but it didn't matter. You were out of places to go. So you pressed on, then dove to the side just before the pool, whipping around and sending Ash flaring into the air in a faint dusty cloud around you as you turned and saw… nothing.

It wasn't there. It hadn't followed you. It- You screamed as pain FLARED in your rear left hoof, rearing and kicking your hind legs as you smacked into something with far too satisfying a CRACK. Turning again, now limping, you saw the wolf licking its chops as it slowly got up, your own blood leaking from the creature's maw as it slowly grinned, chuckling and chuffing, its eyes shining with malice.

"The first lesson of Heart, is that it never ceases to Beat. Through Agony, Suffering, and even when on the very verge of Death, it continues, forcing life to stay and attend it until every shuddering breath has been stolen away, every thought formed and faded, every Light dimmed and every Flame flickered out. And then, when all has been done and said, passed and withered and crumbled around you, it continues to Beat and Dance, to spite and howl against the dying of the light, and the Ending that all things must inevitably face. It is never ending, and it would deny all things their final rest, with no care for the pithy longings of those who Suffer in Agony. Do you understand…?"

The horrible thing was… you did. You could feel it, the knowledge beyond simple words burned into your mind. The agony of knowing you would live through this suffering… it wasn't escapable. You would live, and you would suffer, and nothing would EVER stop that… until the Heart no longer Beat in your chest. But… why. Why was it teaching you?

It grinned wider. "The first lesson of Winter is that all things end. Because all things MUST end. No matter the Agony, it will be relieved. No matter the joy, it will die. No matter the bliss, it will fade. Until everything is cold, and dead, and dark. Nothing can stop this, because Endings are inevitable. No Beating Heart can stave off Death forever, no pony, no thing, no idea is truly permanent, Aside from Glory. But Winter will remember all and hold you close in it's bitterly cold embrace, and beckon you sweetly into it's dark, endless eternity of Silence and Beauty. Oh, to End, to Finish and Cease... to Die. Is it not the most beautiful of gifts? So cruelly denied to those of us in Agony...~"

The pain of the teaching hurt worse than the bite had, and left you shaken, your mind struggling under the weight of it, each word digging deeper now, clawing at your insides. It left ragged, jagged wounds in your soul, and you weren't certain you could handle more. Another lesson would cause something to be horribly, irreversibly damaged you could tell. There was nothing you could do, either. It was too much, too quickly, and skipping over the baseline needed to know it existed, much less to have a level of understanding in it.

"The first lesson in Edge is-" You roared and lunged forward, spinning and kicking the creature again, it's pained yelping bark escaping it as it was rammed back, looking up in time to see you lashing out and throwing a hoof into its face, searing pain lancing through your hoof as you saw Wolven blood splatter across your hoof. Yet it was cackling and laughing, even as you turned and ran, certain you had not killed it and uncertain if you even could. It was so cruel and heartless, so cold…

You ran on your injured limb, your hoof sending Agony through every step as ash burned its way inside and bloody mist attacked the open wound. Seeking the Paths into your body, through the door exposed by your wound. It was… it was agony. Winter soothed the pain in your mind, while Heart soothed the agony in your leg, the suffering teaching a valuable lesson that itself sent your mind spinning with aches and pains. It was too much… you'd have to think this over for weeks or months…

But beyond everything else, you had to know… why. Why was the Wolf trying to teach you??? Why was it trying to kill you??? How did those overlap…? They couldn't, could they? What kind of horror was it spreading to you? Was there even a way to escape? It was so much, your mind spun and dove with the knowledge, the shifts in perspective, the sudden dives and dips in knowledge leaving you with no outlet for the buzzing in your brain…

You tripped before getting too far, tumbling and screaming as your wounded leg was buried in the ash. Looking back, there was the wolf. Sitting where you'd been running, and grin on its terrible face as you stared. It winked, then lunged with jaws spread and… and you sat up gasping for breath as you shook in your bed, the apartment dark and cold, but your body feeling rested… albeit, injured given the blood on your rear leg. Pulling it out from under the blanket exposed a bite weakly gushing blood, the pattern of your heartbeat strong and steady as you whimpered.

You stood, limping to your bathroom and beginning to bandage your leg, wrapping it in fabric you kept there for emergencies. After the tragedy, it had seemed like such a good idea, and it was paying off, but… but more importantly, there were secrets you had learned. Principles besides Moth. Winter, Heart, and you'd heard enough to know that Edge must be a principle as well, you had also felt something about your Wound, and how it… worked. You'd need to think about it for a while before risking another lesson with that Monster… or another encounter. It hadn't only taught, after all…

But still. You'd managed it. You'd visited that wretched place, survived, and… come back ultimately stronger. You'd fought the monsters, bloodied the unkillable, and stolen knowledge from the mouth of a biting Wolf. All while surviving. That was rare in stories, and difficult. You weren't sure it hadn't simply allowed you to escape.

But whatever the reason or cause, you were here. You were now. You had lived. And… and you would do this again. Whatever reason it had for taking you there, you were certain it had been important for more than just that reason, and you were curious. Still… you had a mission. One you'd already started on. It was a darker start than you'd hoped, but you HAD started. It was… something, at least…


You have learned the secret existence of the principles of Winter, Edge, Heart, and Knock Something about Wounds and Paths.
You must study a Knock and Edge lore object or book to gain a scrap for them.
You have gained 1 scrap of Winter, and 1 Scrap of Heart. You learned both in such quick succession, and from such an agonizing source, that you much spend an action each studying them to internalize the lesson and actually make use of them. Beware the Wolf.
You can FEEL the pattern forming in your mind. Edge leading to Winter, leading to Heart, leading… somewhere, before Moth. Knock at the center of it all. You're missing pieces you can tell, but you have not discovered what they are yet. Best of luck, Neophyte…~

So, this feels a touch rushed to me, but I'm fairly proud of it. Why is Ash teaching Lore to some random Pony?
Good question.

Anyways, if you notice points where it could be improved, please let me know! And if I made any major mistakes... also let me know.
Happy Holidays!
 
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In Which (S) Collide: Kosmic Conclusion New
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In Which (S) Collide: Kosmic Conclusion

The ritual circle is a little smushed, especially the smallest circle for misdirection and obscuration. This dirt isn't exactly the best place to carve a circle, even without the shocks of the battle occurring outside. You grimace, but you should at least give it a try.

You had explained the ritual to Comet Feet as much as you could during the preparations. Now the both of you are as blindfolded as you had been able to scrounge up and tinker on such short notice.

Ideally, this ritual should take place on the eve of a battle and not during it. Luckily, the rules of this ritual allow for certain modifications or alternatives. You hope this will work.

Slowly, you breathe out. "Let's start."

Before you were seven of Comet Feet's knives. You pick up one and immediately cut yourself on accident. Buck.

This is fine. This works. After all, the entity you are trying to summon will not heed your call if blood is not split.

You need to open a path for him, after all.

You pick up the next knife and stab yourself, just enough for your blood to exit your body and cover the tip of the blade. Then you repeat for the next knife, and the next, going clockwise.

Though you know you are not alone, you feel as if you are being watched.

You don't let that stop you, because you cannot hesitate. Your daughter's life is on the line.

When you finish the seventh, you pick up the first knife again and throw it over your shoulder. Shink. It should land within a very particular triangle-shaped sigil in the outer reach of the third circle – which is also the sharpest circle of this ritual.

This, you know and had explained, was a very old game – or at least, that was one of the terms you had used to describe it. Truth was that you could only approximate as much as you could to its meaning with similar words, because there wasn't really a word that could correctly encompass all of its meaning in the modern lexicon.

Like a competition, or a bet, that could be done for fun but has also been done to determine the outcome of blood oaths and life-bets.

And you don't actually know how the winner is determined, but for the purposes of this ritual, you and Comet Feet really only need to merely land all of the knives within the empty space of that triangle.

While blindfolded. And throwing it at a spot behind your back. Without being able to actually see the result, and knowing that there can't be any restarts. And especially, that you cannot hesitate, because it is against the rules.

No. Fucking. Pressure.

And eventually, somehow, while panicking and fearing and disassociating, you pick up your seventh knife and throw it.

Nothing happens. In other rituals, there at least was a sign, or a feeling – your heart lurches -

Comet Feet's own knife goes whizzing through the air and doesn't touch the ground.

Moth: 58 + 13 (Magic) + 40 (Moth Level 4) - 20 (Rushed) = 91

Knock: 16 59 + 13 (Magic) + 40 (Knock Level 4) - 20 (Rushed) = 92

Edge: 27 35 85 (Comet Feet) + 13 (Magic) + 40 (Edge Level 4) - 20 (Rushed) = 118

All summoning rolls passed.

-!!!-

And still you cannot feel... No, what you feel is that nothing had happened.

There is no pressure in the air, no sensation of the world being opened, or cut, or that a new presence has descended upon the world.
Your face crumples.

You take off your blindfold and turn. "I think we're going to have to - "

But Comet Feet is looking at a very old stallion.

At the stallion outside of the ritual circle, who is very calmly and deliberately looking at the knives in that triangle. He has no wings, he has no horns, and he is wearing a cap and very old uniform that looks so battered and worn that it feels... soft, like folded paper.

And he is looking at the knives like an arbiter, or a judge, deciding the results of a competition or trial.

You can't help but cringe a little as you realize one of your knives had landed exactly on the edge of that sigil.

"Interesting..." he says, and finally looks up. "And you are my employer?"

Your heart freezes, because he is talking to Comet Feet. Despite the fact that he does not look at all or feel at all like he was in the Mansus, like an undeniable force of nature, as impartial as a storm or a natural disaster, or a cold impersonal wall built long ago that a pegasus had just pancaked into – you're rambling. What you mean is that he looks kind. Like a grandfather looking at his children.

But your own experience with the paternal side of your family was not kind at all.

But more importantly, your mind is going on this tangent, because you are sure that Comet Feet hates you. He hates you for knowing Fluttershy, he hates you for interrupting his ritual, he hates you for barging into his life and turning him... softer.

And this weapon you had summoned is now in the hands of that other.

You dread the result of this conversation, yet somehow - ! You can't speak up. Because somehow -! You cannot influence Comet Feet's decision.

And Comet Feet says, "no."

You blink and feel like your eyelids had just scraped against the edge of a scythe.

The Name of Edge nods, as if this had always been a foregone conclusion. Then he turns to you and speaks. "Then I am Biedde, soldier of the Colonel, at your service. I will be your employee until our contract is finished." He gives a short bow which you mirror back. " And what will you have me do, employer?"

You find your voice and, unhestitantly, give an order. "Kill her."

He smiles leadingly, the smoke of his cigar trailing up towards the red sky. "Pardon?"

And what an order you give this Edge's Name! An order that seems to have been inevitable from the beginning, ever since you met him standing before the Worm Museum. "I said, KILL HER!"

Your hoof comes down and it feels like a gavel. "DESTROY HER! MAREINETTE HAS BECOME MY ENEMY! CRUSH HER! STRIKE HER DOWN! REDUCE HER TO DUST!"

Biedde's lips quirk. His eyes suddenly glint with immortal madness. He chuckles, then breaks into laughter. "WELL SAID, MY EMPLOYER! THIS SERVANT...." He savors the words as he speaks them, "shall carry out your order."

With those words, you return to the battlefield in time to see Selene get bowled over by a fleeing Mareinette, screaming Celestia in tow. "GET BACK HERE YOU COWARD!"

A terrified whinney escapes the centuries-old horror as she charges and stumbles over the next hill, at which point a superpowered beam of white light smashes in front of her and sends her tumbling ass backwards and into a leftover still-smoking crater.

Celestia peers at her from above. "AND STAY DOWN!"

Mareinette uncoils and springs up as if in defiant answer and -

You try to understand what she had just witnessed. Did time slow down, or even stop?

The answer is quite simple – it is simply inevitable. Because what She wants, She gets.


Plink, plink, plonk, plink, plink!


What had happened was -- slowly, deliberately, the titanic shape of Mareinette had gingerly rose up, each of her five heads closing like ebony piano keys, snapping shut like spring traps to swallow the sun. Then you blink, you flinch backwards, your body finally understands what is happening – no, what was happening – no, what had happened.

A whine rises in pitch and the respective head explodes into a bloody deflating mess, but the distraction is enough – Selene falters in front of her bulk and unhinged maws – hay – in the second time in not as many minutes, a blazing comet smashes into Mareinette and sends her skidding backwards, digging deep trenches the size of wheelbarrows in the dirt.

The Mane 6 are here.

Wait, how?!

Twilight Sparkle stands radiant at the forefront, multicolored light forming a splendid horn, and if you think it silently then no one can know the way your heart clenches at the sight. Fluttershy is there despite your worries, and Rarity is there, and together with Applejack, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie, they are the Bearers of Harmony.

It means that, despite everything, Esquestria is still alive.

With two, no, you correct yourself as Selene repositions, three cardinal directions of escape cut off, Mareinette gyrates her heads around, searching for an exit. Her hindlegs tense.

In that moment, it's like you somehow manage to peer into the guts and wires of this great horror, somehow traversing space to see a fleshy chamber where a heart made out of clockwork and sinew reverberates like a great drum. Lub-dub, lub-dub.

And as you watch on, transfixed and powerless to move, its movement abruptly accelerates, cogs spinning and great arcs of lightning lashing out as the Heart That Fed goes into overdrive.

Then you are back in your body again, eyes so wide it hurts, with a deep and terrible feeling that if Mareinette is not stopped now, a disaster will occur. Rivers of blood will run across the streets of Ponyville.

Mareinette blurs.

...a knife is unsheathed. It is not a very large knife, but its edge is in fact quite sharp. Gingerly, an old stallion grips its handle between his teeth. And though this blade is not at all extremely extraordinary, it is currently being wielded with purpose and intent to be quite a fair bit lethal. The touch of a master's hoof turns it into a transcendental weapon.

And somehow, though there were many paths that Mareinette could have chosen, she chose the one path where she charges headlong towards this blade. Almost as if drawn to it, almost as if a force had pulled her towards it, a force she did not resist, or perhaps just a force she did not notice.

And so... inevitably, conflict erupts. And as it most often does, it erupts quite spectacularly in an orgy of savagery and is over immediately after, as quickly as it had begun.

Here it comes. Death.

You can see it now. She is coming closer, closer, closing in at your position, a mad rage in her eyes...

The edge of her charge is reaching, is meeting, meets - !

- it meets the Edge of Biedde's blade!

Moonlight glints off of it and the moonlight itself i / s / c

/​

u / t on that terrible, terrible Edge.​

It shatters Mareinette's charge. Mareinette shatters, tumbling backwards, pieces of her face falling off as if she was a mortal again and had ran into a woodchipper, bits flaking off. Her head snaps back into place jerkily and it is filled with pockmarks and all kinds of other wounds, like flays or whips or claws or drills or just a particularly sharp knife, shaving off a piece here and another layer there, so sharp that it is only now noticing that a wound is there, so sharp that even the fluid now weeping from it seems to disintegrate wholly by itself.

Her frame shudders.

The circle closes in. There is nowhere to go.

Mareinette tries to clamber back out, she tries to escape, but each time her attempts are parried and riposted, and each time she tries to open an avenue her distractions are dispelled. She is repeatedly returned to the (ever-growing) crater like a particularly obese homing pigeon.


Until finally, she stops.

And then just like that, it's over.


It's over.


So why doesn't it feel like it's over?

You can't move your hooves, but you can still see. And what you see is that everypony else has stopped moving as well.

Your breaths are coming in harried bursts. What is happening?

What...



!!!

THE THIRD BIRTH COMETH

!!!
⌋​



This entire time, Mareinette has always been just that. A puppet.

And now, the puppeteer is showing its hand.

Because it is a hand, and not a hoof. You know this because Spike has hands, and that is definitely a giant five-digit limb sticking out of the wrinkle in space-time. Stretching it open, an omen of despair sneers at you.

AD_4nXeQcxf1lOYYuuABY-kLr2YIDrdpuTk46dKwNYmVSym66Lmkr5J7_DXJP4BHkFILDiFOUK14_7dPZUAzedhfDkPkcCApaw7SSCjUXoBT9UGitIhAhMLjJWXv3pkibY-XHhQTNDtG

What is this thing?!! It's as if someone had grafted a monster atop a pony's back, but in all of its eyes only a sadistic maleficence gleams. It is more than double the size of Mareinette at her peak. In its open mouth you can see both canine teeth and molars as it pants its rancid breath.

And worst of all, it has no skin, only bleeding sinew, a towering skyscraper leaking warm hot blood that sizzles upon contact with the cool night air.



KNUCKLELAVEE
Evil Manifest

⌋​

Then it shrieks. Your mane is thrown back at the force of it, your eyes squeezing shut. All around you is the sound of the foliage breaking apart, leaves and even branches tearing off at the sheer force of its scream.

Your ears ring. When you open your eyes, Celestia is yelling something, but you can't hear what. Her attacks are bouncing off its skin. Biedde rears forward and stabs the thing in its fingers, and it dents the knife.

Your only saving grace is that its still struggling with its entrance. You whirl your head over to the Bearers of Harmony and yell something you can't hear. Pinkie Pie is screaming too.

The light around them intensifies.

A concentrated beam of sunfire splashes over the side of the thing's head, causing it to to flail. On the other side, a storm of stars crash like hail on its bare midriff. But despite all of their efforts, it manages to awkwardly stick a cloven hoof out from the opening and descend it towards the ground. It shrieks again, and you feel a warm fluid leak out from your ears.

Then it falters, as a splendid beam of multicolored light blasts into its chest. Groaning, it tries to resist, but it is pushed further and further out. It is a light brighter than what you had felt manifesting during Nightmare Moon's appearance. Harmony itself is rejecting this Outsider.

With a final scream, its fingers slip back out through the portal and the fabric of reality reasserts itself, mending the wound in the world entirely. The beam goes a bit further forward before it too fades out into nothing.

In the heavy silence that follows, you take a deep breath. "I can explain."

Because it is a hand, and not a hoof. You know this because Spike has hands, and that is definitely a four-digit limb sticking out of the wrinkle in space-time.

Someone who has always been pulling at the strings. You can't sit idly, you can't move at all. You curse the name, the one behind it all!!!!!

DISCORD!!!!

He immediately gets hit by a Harmony Beam and is resealed. Good riddance.

"Phew, thank goodness that wasn't our history, right? Though it was interesting to see. Ah, but I've rambled enough. Tap here to go back to your proper history."



Okay, I managed to finish this before the end of the year. Because I couldn't figure out how to resolve Overflow, I just didn't note down the combat rolls. If it helps, Selene rolled a natural 1 on the first round, which was immediately followed up the next round by Celestia rolling a 2.

The c / u / t is of course, credited to Reaper Man. GNU Terry Pratchett.

Also, congratulations on reaching 300 pages!

I'M FREE!!!!!!!!!!

1 2 3 4 J R 5 S 6 K
 
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In which A Thing You Don't Know is pondered New
A Thing You Don't Know

It is the thing you don't know that kills you.

Sometimes Biedde is amazed his summoner has lived this long. Not least because she's been climbing the Mansus while only a too-hard breeze away from death's door, as so recently was made quite clear to her.

She simply doesn't know so much.

She doesn't know why the world is so askew. She barely even knows how it is askew. And she definitely has no idea how to fix it, besides the obvious.

Still, that's more of a subtle knife, creeping in ever so slowly. There are much more obvious deficits in her knowledge, which are about to have much more obvious consequences.

For example, her lack of knowledge about just how much one wolf-thing's request would cost her. And how that, when coupled with a few other "necessary" expenditures in the course of another favour, would leave her stockpile of funds sadly diminished. To the point that she could not quite afford a train ticket to Equestria's outer reaches, or a myriad of well-made baits, or the solid oak and springy willow necessary for effective traps.

That is, she could not afford to fund his monster-hunting expedition.

That was a slight disappointment. The taste of a winter storm had whetted his appetite, but since then, it had remained sadly unfulfilled. Mortal guards? Soft earth and a corpse? Not the best the Wake has to offer, he knows. Not the kind of thing his Master accepts as propitiation.

On the other hoof, spending time on his religious affairs most certainly is. Since his employer could not quite abide his departure, that is what she has given him leave to carry out. Despite the fact that she does not know what it entails.

Delightful. This time, it will not be the thing that kills her. No, not her.

As he sets out from Ponyville, Biedde looks to the horizon. Yes, it is warped. But that's not the worst thing wrong with the world, he thinks.

It doesn't have enough scars.

His employer is a rare exception. But so many dance and twirl and laugh through this world, and never face the cut turned need to truly grow.

What wounds occur are papered over or covered up — again, he thinks of his employer — and not allowed to heal into a thin grey line imbued with memory.

Consider, even, the enraged Demi-goddess at the centre of this realm. How many blows did it endure? How many cuts adorned its limbs? And how often did it just choose to proceed along unfeeling, making a pretence of seamlessness, to avoid its subjects ever seeing a body in any way marred?

So many lessons, left unlearned. So much ignorance, embraced. With, yes, the obvious consequences.

Biedde knows the estate's wolf-pony has been offering her patron's answer to this tension at the world's core.

His knives are sharp. His stride is unyielding. His orders are clear.

It is time for him to do the same.

Pondering Biedde, a little. And the link between scars and lessons, lessons and ignorance, and ignorance and… well, the obvious.

I think the only thing worse than giving him time for his religious observances would be not extending his summon. So let's best be confident we have the bits.
 
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Turn 21 - Results, part 2 New
[X] Plan Prudent KISSing
-[X] (AotL) Lantern
-[X] (Forge) Forge 3 reagent
-[X] (Knock) Explore the Summit
-[X] (Winter) Invoke a Risen
-[X] (Social) Teach Selene
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Family
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Friends
-[X] Perform the Forge's Redemption
--[X] Sacrifice Forge 3 reagent
--[X] At Jade's old house
-[X] Sacrament: Through the Foggy Mirror (4x)

[X] Plan Spreading Ourselves Thin Always Gets Us Punished
-[X] Do not leash anypony.
-[X][DETECTIVES] Follow Up: Changelings
-[X][CONSTABLES] (FOLLOW UP) Your detectives have given you a very long list, of ponies and places involved in the attempt against your life. Round them up and put them all in jail, before this trail goes cold.
-[X][COMMISSIONER] The Lunar Bureau is not the only recently-minted institution in Equestria. Try to contact the others.
--[X] Eclipse(?), and Midday Dew.
-[X][JADE] Research "A Memory of Light" (Current progress 0/100, uses Learning and LANTERN)
-[X] (Baldomare-Gift) Edge 6 book
-[X][BALDOMARE] Channel an Influence. (Secret Histories)
-[X][AXE] Ask for a Knock lesson.
-[X][MAREINETTE] Channel an Influence. (Grail)
-[X][SELENE] Soothe the night. (Her Winter realization. Unknown effects, if any.)
-[X][RARITY] Take a Commission.
-[X] Needs must. Ask somepony to procure you a dead body from the local cemetery.
-[X] Three extra Velvet actions! (Costs 9 follower actions)
-[X] Something Else (lend Heartifact to Comet)
[X] You promise to let her help you.



You are Velvet Covers.

And today, the meaning of that name is going to… change.

Yes, for better or for worse, today is a day that will end in change.

You are currently in Jade Whistle's house. Although, given the repairs and redecorating that your servants have done here (even if by mistake) you don't really feel like you are in that old and abandoned home of hers.

Still, you can't help but think that this place looks a lot better now. You can't help but think that this change, radical as it may have been, was for the better.

Fitting, you suppose, that this is the place where you decided to do this.

Because just like this house, you are about to… make a few redecorations on your own life. On your own body. And although nothing you can do will ever change the past, you can still decide how you want your future to look like.

You can't undo your past or your memories, the same way you can't make Jade step a hoof inside this house. However, you definitely can leave some things behind as you move forward.

"Time to get this done," you say to yourself.

And then you get to work.

You are here to perform a ritual. A ritual that you have never done before but that, maddeningly, feels practiced and familiar. And as you begin running through your preparations one last time, you once again feel that strange sensation that you are doing something that is self-evident, to the point that your hoofs might as well be moving on their own.

You try not to think about the implications of this. You try not to think about how frightening it is, that this Mansus-given information has affected you so deeply you don't even question it.

You try not to think that, perhaps, you may have even lost the ability to question this.

Still, you run through your preparations one last time, and you make sure you have absolutely everything you need for this to work.

As always, you are in the living room of Jade's old house, which (after having all the furniture pushed away) is just large enough to accommodate the ritual circle. The outer limits of the Forge-circle, with its fiery sigils and blocky runes, is just a hoofstep away from the farthest wall. But still, it fits. And the inner Grail-circle, nestled like a lover, will probably not leave too many stains on the floor once you are done with it.

You give yourself one last encouraging nod, and then you make your way to the center of the circle.

You make sure to carry everything with your hoofs. After all, it is foolish to light up your horn while invoking these kinds of magiks. Still, you can't help but notice that you… don't really have that many items with you.

You are carrying with you a cup, and a hammer. And that is all you will ever need for this.

So, you gently lay them on the ground next to you, and then… you lie down on the ground.

"On second thought, I should have taken my dress off out of the circle," you say to yourself, as you awkwardly undo the bindings of your dress with your mouth. Unaided by the usual flicker of your horn.

You are lying down on the very center of the bright-red circle of Grail. Laying on your side, on the hard ground, so that your right flank is turned to the ceiling. And as you slowly work your way through the several knots you have in place, that make sure your skirt is always covering your flank, you can't help but think how strange this scene would be, if there was anypony else here with you.

Still, you eventually get it done.

And you finally reveal your flank to the world.

Your right hindleg is… a mess. It is a familiar mess, but it is still something unsightly and, quite frankly, disgusting. There is nothing visceral to see like exposed flesh or a bleeding wound, but still, it is clearly something that would cause a normal pony to gasp in shock if they ever saw it.

For starters, you have no cutie mark there to speak of. In fact, you almost don't have a flank to begin with. The coat on that part of your body is hard and devoid of fur, but not at all like a smooth scar. Instead, your hard flank is cratered and flawed by the absence of certain muscles, like the trunk of a sickly tree that was cut by an axe or perhaps struck by lightning.

It wouldn't be wrong to say that you have a crater on your flank. In fact, as your eyes travel down from your flank and towards your hindleg, you even spot the familiar place where there is a hole through your skin. One that wouldn't look out of place on the shapeshifting creatures that have been stalking Equestria, or perhaps in some other kind of unnatural monster.

Unfortunately for you, this is a familiar sight. But still, like always, you can't help but think that you are looking at a thing, or an object, rather than a part of your own body. A cratered and crippled piece of gnarled wood that looks like a flank, connected to a bone-thin and weak twig that looks like a hindleg. Two pieces of unkept rubbish that, for some reason, are attached to your body.

Two parts of you that can't really move that well, that made you learn how to simply avoid certain kinds of action, and that feel numb to the touch even when you pinch them.

Thankfully, the damage is somewhat "contained" to your flank and the upper portion of your hindleg. And the lower portion of your right hindleg, all the way to your hoof, looks perfectly normal.

Granted, that only makes the dissonance between the upper and lower part of your hindleg more jarring. But still, it at least allowed you to wear a skirt, without fear that somepony would see how wrong you are if they ever noticed a gnarled hoof or something.



But even that, you think, will change today.

Today, you will get rid of this ugliness. You will get rid of this problem, and this weight, and the ever-presence of this pain that is always just slightly tugging at your muscles.

Today, you will change this.

And the only thing that comes to your mind is that, in all honesty, you wish this day had come sooner.



[Ritual – The Forge's Redemption]



The first thing you do is say the words. The correct words. The words that will kickstart this process.

However, unlike you would do in most other rituals, you are not saying these words out to the world. You are speaking them out loud, of course, but you are not proclaiming them to the walls or to the circle or to whatever powers you are trying to invoke.

Instead, you are whispering them. You are lying down on your side, with your numb flank exposed to the air, and you are whispering those words to yourself with your eyes closed. Almost as if you are trying to lull yourself into sleep.

You are saying those words to yourself, because the most important part of this ritual is that… you need to want this. You need to want this to happen.

You must want to change.

You must want.

So, you whisper them. The enticements, and the encouragements, and the old prayers that ponies used long ago not only to invite the future, but to invoke it.

You whisper those words, until you feel something flicker inside your heart.



[Grail roll: 50 + 13 (Magic) + 40 (GRAIL, Level 4) = 103]

[Success]



It is a flicker, then a spark, then a flame.

And then, it feels like a dam just broke inside of you, and that feeling spreads to everywhere else.

You feel like running. You feel like running, and kicking the air, and clawing at your own coat until your blood sprays out of your arteries. You want to cut this useless leg off and swallow it down, and you also want to use it to its absolute limit just to spite it.

You can feel every strand of your fur, and every parcel of your being, brimming with energy. With the sheer need to do something.

And most important of all, you can feel your body is ready to do whatever it takes to fulfill this aching necessity. You can feel that your blood and your bones and every last cell of your body is willing to bend and break and make way for what comes next. You can sense that, for this very short period of time, the laws of biology and physiology have given way to laws that are older than greater. And that your body, more than just a vessel that you inhabit, is now a machine that you can manipulate.

But this need is also so strong, so overpowering, that you can barely think straight. You don't have it in you to contemplate the greater implications of this. In fact, you barely have the willpower to do the next step.

Still, you reach out for the cup that is next to you. You reach out to it with a shaking hoof, and you down its content almost immediately. You don't put much thought into it, and you don't even realize you must have spilled half of it on the floor given how you forgot to even sit up.

But you drink it nonetheless.

The substance that you just drank, you know, is absolutely vile. It is liquid, but only barely, and under any other circumstance it would be as good as poison. This is the mixture you have prepared over the last few days, which is a crude combination of iron and calcium, metals and minerals, and other things besides that make up a pony's body on the most primitive of ways. Kept in liquid form by pure alchemy, and made edible only because your stomach forgot what kinds of things it should and shouldn't be able digest right now.

However, as much as this concoction might have been literal poison to anypony else, under any other circumstance, to your volatile and lush body this mixture is nothing less than building materials.

Because you will not only repair a portion of your body. The damage to your hindleg is so great that you will have to rebuild parts of it from scratch. And this foul ichor your just drank, that somehow share the same chemistry as dissolved muscles and sinew, will provide what you need.

And now that your body is ready, it is finally time to do the work.

You let go of the cup, and the sound of it hitting the floor barely registers on your overwhelmed senses.

You pick up the second and last item your brought with you, the hammer, and you clench it with your mouth.

You place the face of the hammer, that heavy and solid piece of metal, on the very center of your ruined flank.

You lift the hammer.

And then, you bring it down on your own flesh and bones, with as much strength and urgency as your thrilled body can muster.



[Forge roll: 55 + 13 (Magic) + 40 (FORGE, Level 4) + 30 (FORGE Reagent) = 138]

[Success]





WHAM



And the hammer rings out as if it just struck solid metal. You don't feel anything at all on the point of impact, except for the faintest heat of forgework. And your flank is… entirely unmarred by the blow.

No, your flank is not unmarred. You can see it, right there where the hammer struck, that your flank is a little bent now. Like a piece of iron that has just begun to receive the attention of a smith. Like a clump of clay that just had the shape of a hoof pushed into it.

You see all of that, and you also feel a reaction coming from your own body. And the same way you just struck your body from the outside, you can feel the very matter that makes up your body pushing back from within. Your own body turning into a furnace, as it transforms the poisonous materials inside your stomach into useful building blocks for what you are about to create.

Your heart is pumping inside your chest. Your veins are on rushing with energy. Your entire being is thrilled.

And now that this cautious and experimental blow is done, you begin to work in earnest.

Because you know that this ritual allows for twenty, and exactly twenty, hammer blows with which you may reshape your body.

So, you better make the next nineteen count.



WHAM

WHAM

WHAM



You strike at your flank. Muscles are bent like copper, bones are melted down like steel, and you reform all of them with the rhythmic and exacting blows of your hammer.



WHAM

WHAM

WHAM



Your flank grows hot. Hot, hotter, and hotter still, until it is glowing red from the heat. The very ground underneath you begins to char, slightly, and steam arises from your body in place of sweat. But you carry on, reattaching nerves that had been misfiring for decades, and correcting joints that you didn't even realize were wrong.



WHAM

WHAM

WHAM



You work, and you work, and you work, letting the blows of your hammer go even deeper than you expected. Because for all that your wound had left a broken crater on your flank, it had also hurt you inwardly. So, you let the heat of your work reach those other parts of yourself that you always knew were wrong, but couldn't exactly see by how much. The muscles of your tail, the third half of your digestion, your ability to create foals. You melt away the rust that had attached to them, and you allow them to flourish like they always should have.



WHAM



Until finally, you notice… something.



Something that you have never noticed before. Something that you didn't even realize was there.

Something that, in all honesty, shouldn't be there.

Because although your flank is now healthy and pristine, and your cutie mark is glowing from the heat of your work, you can tell that… your work is not done yet.

Your body is fine, yes. It is more than fine. Your body is finally whole.

However, there is something else here. Something nestled over the bones of your flank, or perhaps right underneath your cutie mark, that you can't really name. That you can't really touch.

It is paper-thin, and so faint that it might as well not even exist. It is something that you wouldn't be able to reach even if you were to cut up your flank once again, be it with a sword or with a scalpel.

It is something that has always been there, ever since you were little. Ever since your flank was ruined.

It is… a memory.

But it is not your memory.

It is a memory that belongs to Velvet Covers.

But it is not your memory.

It is… your wound. Your very own wound. As if all the work you had done so far had no effect. After all, how can you say that you are healed when your wound is still right there?

This is not your memory, and it is not your wound.

But this is still an echo of Velvet Covers' wound.

And your flank, the pristine spot where your cutie mark exists, is still connected to it.



Because… because this wound, your wound, isn't just yours. It is something that you all share. Something that has always connected you.



And the only way you will be truly rid of it is if you shatter this connection.

So, you do the only thing that you can.

You rest the face of the hammer against your red-hot flank.

And then you raise your hammer.


There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers, who loved her daddy very much.

In fact, she loved him so much that she always wanted to impress him.

However, she was also aware of her own limitations. She was her father's daughter, after all. So, she didn't want to impress him with small gifts and tokens, drawings or well-wishes. No.

She wanted to make him proud. She wanted to prove to him that she was everything he wanted in a daughter, and more.

So, even at a young age, she always tried to outdo herself. Prove that she was better. Show that she was stronger.

Until one day, her eagerness outmatched her sense.

And while her family was visiting the Royal Zoo, she snuck out of where she should be, and into a place she shouldn't have gone.

There, she found a beast that was more than a match to a grown pony, and certainly lethal to a young filly like herself. And her flank was rent open by-



WHAM



The images… the memories… the connection, finally snaps. It stops the moment the hammer hits your red-hot flank.

For a moment, you could feel it. You could see it. For a moment, those were your memories. But not anymore.

Not anymore.

You feel like you just broke a chain, that had been weighing you down your entire life. You feel like you just cut a thread on a spiderweb, that had you trapped for as long as you can remember.

You didn't break the source of those memories, no. In fact, you can tell that even now they are not truly gone. You almost feel like you can still touch them, if you really wanted to.

But that's the thing about it. They are no longer seared into your flesh. They are no longer dragging you down.

Because with a single blow of your hammer, you built a gate where there was once a road. You built a dam where there was once a river.

And the wound-like thing you have right underneath your cutie mark feels… thinner, now. Softer. Less real.

But it is still there.

You raise your hammer once again.


There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers, who loved her daddy very much.

But that… may have been the root of her problems.

Because she had always been a quiet filly. A well-behaved filly. A filly that, in truth, was perfect in every way. That had the full attention of her father as he raised and shaped into the heir he had always wanted.

In fact, she was so perfect that… no further heirs would be needed by the household.

She was so perfect that she made her mother irrelevant. And then resentful. And finally, wrathful.

And after years of being ignored, and of no longer being needed, and of not even existing as far as everypony else was concerned, the mother finally took things into her own hoofs.

So, the mother took that perfect little filly, and then went to the highest window of their tall mansion.

The filly didn't even cry out in fear, as she fell to her death. Because ultimately, she did not die. But her body was-



WHAM



Another link broken. Another barrier built, to shield you from the weight.

You feel like you just closed a window, finally cutting off a chill that had been seeping into your body for as long as you can remember.

And then, you raise your hammer once again.


There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers, who loved her daddy very much.

In fact, she loved him so much that she couldn't say no to him.

She never asked for anything, she never complained, and she never stopped trying her best.

Even when she should have.

Because you see, she was not really a healthy filly. There was something wrong with her, something about her blood that was sick, that nopony was really aware of.

Well, nopony but herself. She could feel it, she could feel the pain a bit stronger every single day, bit by bit.

But she never asked for anything, and she never complained. She just loved her daddy, and didn't want to disappoint him, so she just kept on going.

Even when the etiquette lessons became painful.

Even as the dancing lessons grew more and more agonizing.

She just. Kept. Going.

Because it is normal for this to hurt, right? Of course it is. Of course her daddy knows that it hurts. So, she just has to stay quiet and keep doing it.

Of course it is normal to hurt when she walks.

Of course it is normal to hurt when she breathes.

The pain just means she is not working hard enough. Doubly so when her weak body means she is falling behind.

So, she kept pushing. She would not stop.

And since she would not stop, her body did. Because one day-



WHAM



And you raise your hammer once again.


There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers, who loved her daddy very much.

And he also loved her back.

But maybe that was the problem.

Because you see, he loved her a little bit too much-



WHAM

There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers-

WHAM

There was once a little filly named Velvet Cov-

WHAM

There was once a little filly named Velvet C-

WHAM

There was once a little filly named Velv-

WHAM



Again, and again, and again, you seal the entrances, you shore the gaps. And for all that you cannot truly feel your soul, you can tell that it is becoming somewhat lighter. Freer. Less encumbered.

However, you also realize something else.

After all, if you look at a wound for too long, and if you take pains to slowly close it, then you will inevitably learn a little more about its shape. And as you learn more and more about your wound, you will inevitably come to realize what caused it.

So, as you close up the pains, and the traumas, and the sheer cacophony that had been ringing inside your ear your entire life, you slowly begin to notice… what is left.

As you measure, reshape and close this wound that you have on your very soul, you finally manage to reach… its root.

You can't say that you are remembering this just now. Because for some reason, you know that you never truly forgot about this. However, now that you are finally looking at it from this particular angle, and with the particular knowledge you have gathered, you think you finally… understand.

As you raise the hammer for the twentieth and final time, you finally… remember.



You remember that…



There was once a little filly named Velvet Covers, who loved her daddy very much.

She wasn't the perfect daughter, but she wasn't a bad daughter either. She just tried her best, as much as a filly could, even if she sometimes got things wrong.

But still, she loved her daddy, her daddy loved her back, and that was all that mattered to her.

However, she wasn't just a filly, she was also a noble. Which meant she always had the very best at her disposal, be it education or gifts. But that also meant she always had the heaviest expectations on her small back.

One day, when she was old enough, her daddy told her what the next step in her life would be. She would study on the very best school, that only admitted the most gifted unicorns, and she would become a great lady that would one day lead her family.

But of course, even though she was a noble, she still had to prove herself. So, she was given the best magic tutors that bits could buy, and was told to study her hardest for the upcoming admission exam.

And study she did. Through days and nights, along months, she did her best to learn how to use her little horn to conjure magics that even adults might have struggled with.

However, again, she was not a perfect daughter. She was not a bad daughter, but she was not perfect either.

And when the day of the admission exam came… she failed.

Granted, her father had applied her for the exam just when she reached the minimum age allowed. So of course his daughter had failed. But still, the disappointment stung, and she was told that she would try again on the next year.

So, she continued her studies, she tried again on the next year… and then she failed.

She failed, and she failed, the love of her daddy growing dimmer and colder with each passing year. Until she was too old to apply, and the daddy she loved so much was no longer able to speak to her without a harsh frown on his face.

And just like that she was… adrift. She didn't even have a cutie mark, but already she felt like she didn't belong anywhere.

After all, she was unfit to be a noble lady like her daddy wanted. She couldn't pass the exam like he told her to. So what good was she?

Well, "not very good" was the obvious answer. She was not very good. Perhaps even bad. Maybe even worse.

Still, she would not let herself be defeated so easily.

Because if she wasn't able to pass that exam, then she just had to do something even more impressive than that! And for all that she was just a filly, she already knew some magic, even though she didn't even have a cutie mark yet.

So, as she started sneaking into parts of the library she shouldn't, and as she started reading books she wasn't supposed to, she began to wonder what she could do to impress absolutely everypony and her daddy.

Well, the answer was obvious.

She just needed to create a spell that would give her cutie mark.

And then, History tumbled down as it usually does. Marred with coincidences and confluences and false ends that are just beginnings.

She found a book that was just old enough to have a certain kind of knowledge. The echo of an echo of something far older, but still present nonetheless.

She mispronounced certain words in just the right way, for her to speak something else entirely, in a long-dead language, with just the right tone.

Coincidence
upon coincidence, accident upon accident, sewing with a thread so thin it might as well not exist.

And then she did the proper things, in the proper manner, in the proper order.

She did something so impressive, and so old, that not even the sages of her Era would know how to appreciate: she created a connection with herself. With all her other selves.

But of course, doing the bare minimum of a ritual is not without its dangers. She succeeded, in a way, but she also failed catastrophically in another. And just like a rope that had suddenly been tugged, her other selves who were now chained to that connection also suffered the consequence of her actions. All of them would eventually, and one way or the other, suffer a similar fate as that of the pillar they were now chained to.

And her cutie mark burst joyfully from her flank, in a shower of blood and meat and bones and-



WHAM





"…"

And just like that, you finally fix a mistake that you have made long, long ago.

You wonder if, on that day, you became that filly.

You wonder if, on that day, that filly became you.

But whatever the answer may be, you realize now that it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter if all those events were orchestrated by powers older and greater than you can possibly imagine. It doesn't matter if that was all the highest and cruelest of coincidences.

It doesn't matter, because all of that… belongs to the past now.

And you are now focused on your future.

You pass a hoof over your flank, feeling how it is still warm to the touch. But more importantly, it is now perfect and unmarred, just like your left flank. Furthermore, your eyes stay on your right cutie mark for the longest moment. Because now that you think about it, you have never seen your right cutie mark before. Not while you were awake, at least.

And then you… stand up.

Your body feels light, your limbs feel healthy, and for the first time since you can remember you don't really feel any pain. Anywhere at all.

So, you stand up, and you just… head out. Towards the door, and the outside, and back to your home.

"I promised Stormy I'd show him this," you say.

And you only realize you forgot your dress in Jade's house when you are halfway towards the estate.



[All two rolls successful]

[Ritual successful]





You have performed a ritual. 20 bits have been removed from your inventory.

You have created, and consumed, a Level 3 Forge reagent. 45 bits have been removed from your inventory.

At long last, you have divested yourself from the maluses you had picked at the very beginning of the quest. Thanks to this, and through this, you have now gained a deeper understanding of what it means to be a Branded.

Your Brand is now better understood. As a pony Branded by the Secret Histories, you have realized that you may benefit from both (personal and invitation) Sacrament options of Secret Histories. You assume, perhaps correctly, that ponies Branded in other Lores may do the same for their own affinities.

Velvet Covers is no longer "Scarred", your health has been updated to 3/3.


Author's note: You will continue to wear dresses, more out of habit than anything, and you won't "parade" your healed limb around. In fact, you even snuck into your house to dress up before sneaking back out and returning through the front door. Still, you will no longer be liable for keeping your scar hidden.

Furthermore, I'll start working on an "administrative update" that will focus on getting some things in order, and maybe opening a vote for the coming week.
 
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Turn 21 - Administrative catch-up New
You are Commissioner Velvet Covers.

And right now, you are learning a few harsh truths. Although, unlike how it happens most of the time, you aren't getting them from Baldomare. Still, these are unpleasant realities nonetheless.

The first thing you are learning is that, unfortunately, you are a public figure.

The second thing is that newspapers make a living of publishing scandalous headlines about public figures.

"Goodness gracious... I wonder if Cadance has to worry about these things," you say to yourself, tutting every now and then, as you read through the newspaper you have on your office desk. "I should ask her about this. Well, after we're done talking about more important things."

You say that because, on the one hoof, you have not yet met Cadance ever since you returned to Canterlot. Not because you don't want to, quite on the contrary, but you quite literally haven't had the time yet. She is, after all, a very busy mare. Still, you have not yet met Cadance and you are sure she wants to catch up with you after the whole "you almost died" incident.

But on the other hoof, the second important-thing you need to tell her is that... well, you want to show her your flank! In the most wholesome way possible of course. But still, you now have proof that you can even heal something like your leg, and she has a husband who lost a horn. You absolutely would like to see her reaction to that, and then see how you can progress from that point onward. After all, introducing Cadance to the Lores, or at least making her aware of their existence, is high on your priorities list.

Regardless, and back to the topic on hoof, you are still reading a newspaper that is making some scandalous claims about you.

"But really, where do they even get the imagination to create these things? The sheer leaps of logic this article requires is..."

Because yes, the Lunar Bureau has recently arrested a very important daughter of the Greenhoof family.

And yes, the Greenhoof family is the greatest and most notorious earth pony family in Equestria.

And yes, your own family happens to have a few hoofs in the agricultural business.

But to string those three points together? And make some... gobbledygook claim that you are orchestrating these events to help your family? That you are... you narrow your eyes as you read one of the lines, "clearly using the Lunar Bureau to advance her own nepotistic interests"?

You aren't even angry. Well, maybe a little angry. But you are more shocked than anything else.

Furthermore, a chill runs down your spine as you remember how you very recently told Mayor Mare that Ponyville should become a farming town... you honestly hope this story dies down before anypony catches wind of that.

"Well, Shining said this kind of thing is a part of the job," you say to yourself, lighting up your horn and tossing the newspaper on the nearby trash. "Besides, I have more important things to do."

And with that, you focus on the other report you have sitting on your desk.

Specifically, you open the latest inventory from your evidence department. Going to the last few pages where certain items, the ones collected during the latest investigation in Manehattan, are listed.

Because there are certain items here that you would like the Bureau to focus on, and a few items you would rather the Bureau completely forgets about.

...

Time to decide how you will play this.



[Decide how you will manage the evidence that the Bureau has. Be it the evidence that incriminates you, or the ones that you planted.]

All the evidence you have, know about or planted is freely accessible by your investigators so everypony can perform their jobs better. To be clear, that doesn't mean evidence can be easily stolen or misplaced. But still, you can safely assume the items listed below can (and will) eventually be seen, touched or studied by a few competent ponies. Especially given how they were found in Manehattan, and your Constables are about to crack down on that place.

So, unless you put your hoof on any one of these scales, there is a chance that any one of these items will be analyzed, ignored, or focused on by ponies of the Bureau. And if that happens, one way or the other, whatever they find out or conclude might spread through word of mouth and reports.

But before any of that happens, you can influence it yourself.

Of course, none of these options guarantee any kind of success, and they can always backfire. Like everything else in this quest.

Finally, and just so you know, at first I wanted to be more clear and descriptive about the options. At first, I was going to say that "this options is suspicious", or "this option might open you to certain risks". However, all the options carry some sort of risk or caveat to them, so the warnings just became redundant. The bottom line is that you can't know what the future holds. So, as always, you can only decide what you want to do, and try your best for it to work out. Furthermore, you have recently gained a lot of respect from the Bureau, thanks to the blackmail material Mareinette found for you. So, if nothing else, you might have some reputation to spare even if something goes south.



You have planted a very basic and broad "primer" about the Lores. Shall you put your hoof on this particular scale?

[] (Lore-Champion) Ask for this evidence to be brought to your desk. Pretend to read it, and that you are interested in it. Make a point of telling everypony that "it works".
(Attempt to promote the Lore primer you planted to the Bureau at large. Suspicious, perhaps even risky, but the most aggressive way to spread the Lores into the Bureau)

[] (Lore-Promote) Ask for this evidence to be brought to you, and show some interest in it. But be subtle about it. Your agents are sharp, so you are sure they will notice whatever hints you drop.
(Attempt to promote the Lore primer, but to a lesser degree. You will actively try to spread the Lores into the Bureau, but as cautiously as possible, and in a way that, hopefully, can't really be tracked back to you)

[] (Lore-Neutral) Ignore this piece of evidence. If that catches anypony's eyes, you will be glad for it. If not, it is what it is. But you know, from personal experience, that the Lores tend to attract those suitable for it.
(You will not do anything about this piece of evidence. And given how many adepts were introduced to the Lores by "stumbling" upon a forgotten book that discusses it, perhaps this might be the most natural way for this to go)

[] (Lore-Suppress) A short missive labeling the Primer as containing "black magic" will see it moved to the same section where you can store cursed items. Nopony will ever stumble on that if it is there.
(Maybe planting this evidence was a bad idea. You will get rid of it, and the Bureau will be none the wiser)



You have planted a very urgent warning about Windigos in Manehattan. Shall you put your hoof on this particular scale?

[] (Windigos-Alert) "This is serious, even if it potentially false. I want to be informed immediately if you find anything approaching this description in Manehattan."
(Should the Constables find any windigo jars during their action in Manehattan, you will be brought to the scene to intervene)

[] (Windigos-Cautious) "This sounds like a bomb. Treat it like a bomb."
(Your Constables will treat any windigo jars they find like a particularly dangerous and cursed artifact. Specifically, they will attempt to return it safely to the Lunar Bureau. But alone, and without your presence)

[] (Windigos-Ignore) "Ravings of a madpony, whoever wrote it. Just follow procedure."
(Maybe planting this evidence was a bad idea. The Bureau will simply act as if it never existed)



The Bureau has located several Lore-writings, which can one way or the other be traced back to you. Shall you put your hoof on this particular scale?

[] (Evidence-Burn) You are the Commissioner. If you want something on your desk, you get it. And if it disappears after that, nopony but a Princess would be allowed to question it.
(Get rid of it, in a ultimate and final way. Of course, at least one pony, the one in charge of keeping the evidence safe, will notice)

[] (Evidence-Downplay) Yes, they are the best detectives in Equestria. But they can't chase anything if you keep their leashes on. If this ever catches anypony's attention, you will be there to downplay it.
(Do not touch the evidence, but keep a close eye on it. If anypony ever becomes suspicious about it, or tries to follow this trail, you will actively try to intervene)

[] (Evidence-Ignore) You will just pretend this problem doesn't exist.
(You will forget about this evidence, and hope nopony ever catches wind of it. There is a cartload of other things they might focus on and investigate, so you will just hope this is not one of them)





Biedde has brought you a body, and you have used a body. You have created one Shattered Risen, that will expire at the end of Turn 22.

One day, it just snapped in half. Crumbled into black dust the same color of the metal it was made of. And for all that you feel haunted by losing an asset like this, you are also thankful you did not need it to begin with. One of your Wrong Keys (set to expire at the end of Turn 20) has been destroyed.

This map had an expiration date. That date has passed. The "Safe Ritual Spot" Baldomare had found for you has decayed, and has been removed from your inventory.

Finally, vote in plans, twenty-four hour moratorium so people catch wind that there has been an update. I was going to offer the "Book search" vote as well, but it wouldn't connect well with the plan. So, we can do it later. But I still wanted to write this because I like having a definite threadmarked post where I declare that an item was added (or removed) from your inventory.

Good week to us all.
 
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Turn 21 - Results, part 3 New
"Aye, lissen up an' pay attention. Ae'm only gonna sae this once."

You are currently in your home's central garden, sitting on a cushioned chair by a fancy table located on one of its more private corners.

Sitting opposite to you, and also under the shade of a parasol, is Velvet Axe, who is currently speaking to you with a very careful and measured tone.

"Okay, I understand," you say.

There are no maids or other ponies nearby that could be eavesdropping. But still, you can tell that she is picking her words carefully. Perhaps even thoughtfully. However, despite her unusual thoughtfulness, the fact remains that she still has a frown on her face. A harsh and grumpy glare that seems to go beyond her regular mood.

But of course, the reason for her additional grumpiness is entirely obvious.

"Still, Does she reall'y hav tae be here?" she asks, not for the first time, as she throws yet another accusing glare towards the mare sitting next to you.

To which Soft Sweeps, who is on the receiving end of Axe's glare, answers with a short neigh of her own.

"Yes," the Pegasus mare answers.

And although Soft doesn't voice whatever choice words she has in her mind right now, her expression and tone are able to articulate them regardless.

The two mares… very clearly don't like each other. More than that, they clearly don't trust each other.

You might never know the exact reason why. However, you aren't here to try to figure that out either.

On the contrary, you are here because Axe called you.

Which can only mean that…

"Yea, yea, wo'evah," she rolls her eyes, and you almost place a placating hoof on Softy's foreleg as the Pegasus bristles in response.

But still, the two mares don't really exchange any more glares. And instead, you perk up your ears as Axe once again turns her attention to you.

"Aye then, this is me holdin' up me end of th' deal. So pay attention tae this lesson," she says. To which you answer with a nod.

With that, she reaches a hoof into the darkness of her cloak. As always, her foreleg seems to reach much, much deeper than it should. Still, after a few seconds of rummaging at some unseen pocket, she eventually brings her foreleg out once again.

Revealing to you that she is now holding a gleaming, colorful, and masterfully crafted k-

-doughnut?

"Now, ye see this 'ere? This is th' seven Lores, an'-"


"Axe, that's a doughnut," you say, blurting out the words before you realize it.

But Axe only answers by rolling her eyes at you, this time. You think Soft Sweeps muttered something under her breath just now, but you weren't really paying attention to her.

Because Axe… why did she just pull out a doughnut?!

"Like ae was sayin', if ye won' fokken interrupt me, this 'ere is th' Lores," she says, emphasizing that last word, and making an effort of drowning out Softy's grumbling complaints about her swearing. "Aye, ae kno' this is a sweet, but et's also tha' best way tae make yer wee brain understand wo' ae need tae teach ye."

She says that and you… don't really know how to respond? The best you can do is not let your mouth hang open, but even then you can't hide your confusion.

Still, Axe either doesn't realize how strange this all is, or she simply doesn't care. Because true to her word, she simply puts the glazed and sprinkled doughnut on a plate, right at the center of the table, and begins to speak as if she was discussing something of great importance.

"Now, this sweet is round, aye? Et's a circle, innit? Well, tha's also how it is with th' Lores. Most of them are connected, and even if sum o' them are opposite, they're still in th' same circle."

She then continues to talk about that subject in a… surprisingly poetic way. She tells about how the dough is, ultimately, made out of the same batter. About how you can't really focus on a single part of it without losing sight of the whole. About how if, even if you were to cut a portion out of it, there would still be hints of its circular shape, and of the taste of its neighboring sections, and of the fact that you would either be missing out on something or stubbornly telling yourself you had enough to satisfy you.

She even speaks about the colored sprinkles as "fragments" of its nearby neighbors. Of how the chocolate sprinkle is not out of place on the strawberry section, and vice versa, to the point that they even complement each other's flavor.

She names the seven circular Lores, one by one, as if she could read them off the ring-shaped pastry. And then she speaks of the Histories as if they were the plate under it, and the cloth that is covering the table, and even the entire garden around you.

"But tha's the thing… Th' seven Lores are this sweet, aye? An' th' Histories are around it, yea? Well, Knock is th' hole in th' middle. Et's the empty space. Et's the absence an' th' passage tha's created by their relationship t'each otha," she says, picking up the doughnut with a hoof. "Tha's why the seven Lores follow a sequence, but can also be turned into Knock. Ye can follow th' ring, from Winter tae Heart tae Grail, but ye can also turn tae the side an' fall into th' hole."

She then raises the doughnut towards her face, peering through the hole at its center and looking straight at you.

"Knock dinnae exist, the same way a hole dinnae exist. Et's the empty passage, an et's shaped by et's frame. An' tha's why…" she trails off.

Or rather, she stops talking once she takes a better look at you. And her eyes almost immediately narrow into a glare as she puts down the doughnut.

"… oi, ye fokken lissenin tae me?!" she asks, her tone so angry and sudden that you quite literally jump up in surprise.

"You do not speak to her like that!" Softy reacts almost immediately, getting up from her seat and slamming a hoof on the table.

Which in turn causes the two mares to immediately start arguing with each other.

"Ae speak tae her however ae wont. An' look a' her, she wasn' even lissenin!"

"Of course she wasn't listening, nothing you said made any sense! I wouldn't have been able to understand you even if I tried!"

"Et's no' me fault if yer a daft wolf-freak. And 'sides, shes smarta than ye! She wasn' payin attention, tha's wo' was happenin'."

You shake your head, once, twice, finally managing to tear your eyes from the delicious doughnut that Axe had been parading in front of you the entire time.

And you look up to see the two mares… oh boy, they are definitely fighting right now.

Which you have to admit is… technically your fault? After all, Axe did invite you here, and you, uhm, weren't really paying attention?

Well, how could you pay attention when she was dangling this delicious doughnut right in front of you?! You swear this one must be one of Sugar Cube Corner's specials. You definitely have never seen the chef baking anything that looked this good!

But still, well, it was very rude of you not to pay attention and…



Oh, by the way, you are Silky Stream. You have been Silky Stream all along. Your entire life, to be precise. Who else would you have been if not yourself?



But more importantly, you think you have a bit of a situation to defuse right now.

"Uhm, Axe? Sis? I'm… I'm sorry for not paying attention," you say. It is a small miracle that you didn't have to speak any louder, given how they were almost shouting just now. But still, you manage to get them to stop. "It really was my fault for not listening."

You say that, and you watch as the two mares alternate between looking at you, and then at each other. With Axe putting up her chin with a clear I told you so expression, while Soft protectively pulls you to sit between her forelegs.

"But still, Axe, I don't really understand… why did you call me here? Why are you telling me all this stuff about… doughnuts?" you ask.

To which Velvet Axe answers by letting out an annoyed groan, opening her mouth to remind you again about how this is obviously because…



"Waet… ae dinnae tell ye wot this es aboot?" she asks, and you can tell she is talking to herself rather than really asking you a question.

Still, you answer her by slowly shaking your head.

Softy, also, does the same. But her movement is a tad more, uhm, aggressive, when compared to yours.

"No, and so far all you did was waste Silky's time, and tempt her with sugar she is not supposed to be having today," your sister says, as she pushes the plate with the doughnut away, much to your disappointment.

You were hoping to have that at some point…

"Ah, ae suppose tha' makes sense an… well, et's fokken obvious, innit? Ae'm tellin' ye this so ye can tell it to me sumna." she says as if it was obvious.

Still, it takes you maybe five full seconds to understand what she actually means by that.

"Wait, you are telling me all this… so I can tell it to my mom?" you ask, just to make sure.

"Well, someone has tae tell 'er this, an' it wont be me. So duh," she answers.

And before you can say anything else, she once again picks the doughnut with a hoof. But this time, she takes a bite out of it before she continues to speak.

"Aye then… lissen up an' pay attention. Ae'm only gonna sae this twice."





Silky Stream came to you, filled with energy and excitement and perhaps too much sugar. However, to your absolute surprise, she was also filled with secrets. She told you things no filly ought to know about, even though it made no sense to her, and you left that conversation a little wiser.

This is, you are absolutely sure, that horrible snakemare's fault. It is a shame you can't accede to Softy's recommendation of locking her out of the house. Or rather, it is a shame that it is physically (and metaphysically) impossible for you to do so.

Still, your daughter's sugar problem aside, you have gained one scrap of
Knock Lore.

Velvet Covers has reached the maximum amount of
Knock scraps of Lore she may receive without a Sacrament. Any further scraps of Knock gained will be discarded until she attains Sacrament.

Author's note: Inspiration, and more importantly the time to execute it, struck. I might yet write about meeting your friends, or I might skip it for later and commence the Snekrament the next time I can sit down and write. Regardless, I hope you are all doing well.
 
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Turn 21 - Putting your ducks in a row New
[X] Plan Prudent KISSing
-[X] (AotL) Lantern
-[X] (Forge) Forge 3 reagent
-[X] (Knock) Explore the Summit
-[X] (Winter) Invoke a Risen
-[X] (Social) Teach Selene
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Family
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Friends
-[X] Perform the Forge's Redemption
--[X] Sacrifice Forge 3 reagent
--[X] At Jade's old house

-[X] Sacrament: Through the Foggy Mirror (4x)

[X] Plan Spreading Ourselves Thin Always Gets Us Punished
-[X] Do not leash anypony.
-[X][DETECTIVES] Follow Up: Changelings
-[X][CONSTABLES] (FOLLOW UP) Your detectives have given you a very long list, of ponies and places involved in the attempt against your life. Round them up and put them all in jail, before this trail goes cold.
-[X][COMMISSIONER] The Lunar Bureau is not the only recently-minted institution in Equestria. Try to contact the others.
--[X] Eclipse(?), and Midday Dew.
-[X][JADE] Research "A Memory of Light" (Current progress 0/100, uses Learning and LANTERN)
-[X] (Baldomare-Gift) Edge 6 book
-[X][BALDOMARE] Channel an Influence. (Secret Histories)

-[X][AXE] Ask for a Knock lesson.
-[X][MAREINETTE] Channel an Influence. (Grail)
-[X][SELENE] Soothe the night. (Her Winter realization. Unknown effects, if any.)
-[X][RARITY] Take a Commission.
-[X] Needs must. Ask somepony to procure you a dead body from the local cemetery.
-[X] Three extra Velvet actions! (Costs 9 follower actions)
-[X] Something Else (lend Heartifact to Comet)
Tally
[X] Plan Feels Good To Be Back
-[X] (Lore-Promote)
-[X] (Windigos-Alert)
-[X] (Evidence-Burn)

You are Lady Velvet Covers.

And right now, you feel… fine.

You don't feel like a weight was taken from your back, or rather from your leg. You don't feel like smiling all the time, or like singing. You do feel a little bit thankful, in an abstract sense. But deep down, you think this is the real gist of it.

You don't feel anything.

And you think this is how it's meant to be. The same way that the most precious part of a pony's life is their everyday routine, the same way that what you cherish the most is being with your family whenever you can rather than just on special occasions, you think this is how something good should truly fit into your life.

Because this, having a healthy body and no longer feeling constant pain, is now your new normal.

Your daughters were thrilled when you told them. Although, in all fairness, they couldn't really grasp how bad things were before you fixed it because you never went out of your way to share this little misery with them. Still, they knew of your predicament, and they were glad to see it gone.

Your husband, also, was thrilled… for other reasons. You made a point of Stormchaser being the first pony you told about this, and it goes without saying that-



Anyways.

The point is that, now, you feel fine. Which is a stark contrast to how you felt just a few weeks ago, when you could barely stay awake and were one coughing fit away from dying.

So, now that you are not only back on your hoofs, but actually feeling good about yourself, you figure you should check on everypony.

It has been too long since you had your friends over for a tea party. So, given how you don't think you would be able to schedule one in such short notice, this is the least you should do.



- - -



Despite having a bad leg, you are somewhat proud to say that you weren't incapable of walking. Granted, running was painful, and you probably had a limp while doing it. And kicking at certain angles was downright impossible. But still, you were perfectly capable of walking (even if not for that long), and you are proud to say that you had the habit of doing so.

Whether if it was by touring around the farmlands for your job as an administrator, or your short forays into Ponyville when you joined the "book club", you think you were able to keep what little health you had left by staying as active as your fragile body would allow.

However, or perhaps because of that, you can't help but feel a small difference now, as you take the long way through Ponyville and towards the Everfree Forest. You have already walked this path several times before, for different reasons. But as you cross the wooden bridge over the small river, and finally reach Fluttershy's cottage, you can't help but think that this stroll was particularly… pleasant.

The trek here felt a little shorter, but not in a bad way. And the wind against your mane felt softer, as if you were feeling the breeze for the first time.

Soothing.

But you are not here to think about the wind, you are here to visit a friend!

So, as you reach the front door of Fluttershy's house, you raise a hoof and give it a gentle trio of knocks.

And you are only slightly surprised when you immediately hear a muted and surprised "eep!", followed by what you can only describe as something falling on the ground, or perhaps a pair of ponies scrambling in surprise.

"What in the heavens…?" you whisper to yourself, giving the air a short sniff as you try to figure out what just happened.

Still, all you can sense is… well, a pony that feels like Fluttershy, and a pony that definitely feels like Comet Feet. Although, for some reason, you can't help but sense that Fluttershy's presence is slightly stronger, and Comet's is slightly weaker… or perhaps drained?

Well, the stallion is wounded, so you suppose that only makes sense.

After a few seconds, and after you hear what sounds like hushed whispering, a set of hoofsteps finally come towards the door.

And when it opens, you are greeted by the familiar face of Fluttershy.

"Oh, hello there Velvet. Um… fancy seeing you here?" she says.

You immediately give her a smile, but something in your mind hesitates before you can truly answer her.

"Fluttershy, is everything alright?" you ask. Although, you must admit the words escaped your mouth before you could really think about them.

However, after looking at the mare for a few more seconds, you finally realize what made you say that. Yes, the mare looks… well, strange?

You wouldn't really say that Fluttershy is a mare that grooms herself. But still, she always had this pure, natural beauty to her that made you think she never really needed to make an effort to look pretty.

But despite that, you can definitely tell that her mane is at the very least disheveled.

And what is more, is she… out of breath? Her cheeks look flustered, almost flushed, and you swear that just now, when she spoke, her breathing sounded like she just ran a marathon.

"Alright? Yes, everything is alright. W-why would anything not be alright?" she says.

Although, once again, you can't help but notice she is using more words than you ever heard her speak in a single sentence before. Furthermore, her tone sounds almost urgent.

But why…

"I… am glad to hear it?" you say, tilting your head slightly. "But anyhow, I just came to visit. How are you? And how is Comet Feet?"

You say that at the same time you take a half-step towards her door. Not exactly inviting yourself in, but still thinking that the mare is just about to say that you are welcome into her home.

However-

"Everythingisfine!"

-the mare not only answers like that, but she also pushes the door towards you, to the point that you can only see a sliver of her now.

And what is more, even though the door is still technically open in front of you, you can confidently feel that it is locked.

For whatever reason, Fluttershy seems utterly adamant in not letting you in.

Which makes you… confused?

You are taken aback, because of course you are. But then again, you… suppose you shouldn't intrude on her home?

No, that can't be it. This can't just be a matter of etiquette or something like that. Fluttershy has never acted this way after the two of you became friends. So why…?

"E-everything is fine," she says, "a-and you definitely didn't interrupt anything!"

You think you hear her gulp something dry, and you swear that you heard somepony facehoofing right behind her. Roughly from the direction you can sense Comet Feet.

But you…

Wait, did you interrupt anything?

"I… see…" you say, trying to figure out what the hay is going on. "And… is Comet Feet alright? I was hoping I could see him, and see how he is doing."

"He is doing fine," Fluttershy answers almost immediately, with the tone of a pony who clearly is not thinking before she speaks. "Very healthy. Y-yes. Energetic, even! His stamina is gr- Imeanhe'sdoingfine!"

Another facehoof from inside her house, another eyebrow being raised on your face.

But still, Fluttershy is your friend, so whatever is going on right now you definitely don't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already is… for whatever reason.

So, you decide to cut your losses, and just say your goodbyes.

"I am… glad to hear it?" you say, "well, I hope the Heart item I lent you two is also helping him recover. But other than that, I hope you two can visit my place soon?"

You say that, giving the mare a short wave of the hoof, making it clear that you are just about ready to leave.

But the mare either didn't realize that, or she is still too strung up (for whatever unknowable reason) to notice.

So, instead, she just gives you a nervous, almost frantic nod of the head, before blurting out something else.

"Y-yes, it's helping a lot. We've been using it every nigh-! I mean, I have be-… no, he has been using it. To rest! Yes, definitely just rest a-and…! IpromiseI'llcleanitbeforereturningitokaythanksbye!"

That is, until she finally panics and quite literally smacks the door on your face.

Which leaves you utterly and absolutely confused.

Because what in the heavens just… why was Fluttershy so…

After all, you just lent beautiful Fluttershy and brooding Comet Feet a Heart artifact that is specialized in physical health and vigor. So why would these two ponies, who apparently live together in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, be troubled by any of this?



Truly, you have no idea, and you certainly don't think you knocked at their door precisely while they were busy doing something important.

Oh well.

"Guess I can cross this visit off my list," you say to yourself, as you make your way back to Ponyville.

And ultimately, you are glad that Fluttershy is doing fine.

You are sure she would have asked for your help if she really needed anything.



- - -



You didn't really think you would get used to having bodyguards. You thought they would be too much of a hindrance, or that they would start butting themselves into your routine. However, you have been pleasantly surprised these last few days.

Granted, it needed a little tuning. But by now, the ponies assigned to take care of you have mostly adjusted to when you don't mind their presence, and when they should quietly find something else to do and guard you from a distance your family can't notice.

Of course, Selene still has opinions about them. Most of them negative or critical. But you also couldn't help but notice Stormchaser has been nothing but supportive of their presence. So, the two of them balance each other out.

But what is more, you have also been learning what kinds of things you can ask them to do. And more importantly, you have been learning which of your bodyguards you should ask to do what.

To give an example, you have come to realize that when you want something done right, you should ask Battering Ram to do it. The mare might not officially be the highest ranking constable in your retinue, but you have basically been speaking to her about your intentions, and letting the reliable mare translate it to the rest of your bodyguards.

So, again, if you want something done right, you know to ask Battering Ram.

However, when you want something done. Well…



"Excuse me Commissioner, here is the pony you asked to see."



Without any warning, or even a knock on your door, the door to your former office suddenly swings open. And just as expected, you are met with the figure of Drummer Clap.

The pegasus mare is dressed in her full constable uniform, wearing the midnight purple of the Lunar Bureau, with her badge proudly displayed on her chest.

But more importantly, she stout pegasus mare is also carrying somepony on her back.

"Jade Whistle's arrest warrant has been successfully carried out," she says.

Before unceremoniously dumping the pony, that she is carrying on her back, on the floor.

Drummer Clap doesn't even wait for you to say anything, be it a thank-you or another order. She just gives you a sharp salute, steps out of the room and closes the door behind herself.

Leaving you alone.

With Jade Whistle.

The same Jade Whistle who you have been trying to see for several days now.

The same Jade Whistle that, when you tried to visit her by going to her musician friend's house, refused to see you, and instead locked herself up in the attic. And who, from what you were told, has refused to eat, speak to anypony, or even sleep since then.

The same Jade Whistle that, when you had Selene quite literally check on her dreams, has apparently convinced herself that she doesn't deserve to have any friends because she "should have seen the danger coming".

In fact, a small shiver runs down your spine as you recall the nightmare that Selene described to you. That visage of a tomb-like room, with walls covered in scratches, that was filled with accusations of how Jade Whistle was a false, useless seer for not having…

Well, it doesn't matter anymore. And for all that you think Drummer Clap had to literally kick her door down and drag her here, you are finally with one of the ponies you have been meaning to see for a while now.

"Jade, dear, I have been so worried about you," you say, not even bothering to hide the pleasantness from your voice. Heaven knows you will be needing all the help you can get for this conversation.

Still, the only answer Jade Whistle gives you is to curl up on the floor, whimpering like a scared dog and hiding her eyes behind her mane as she avoids your gaze.

Yes, this will definitely… take some doing.

But you are sure you can figure it out.

And after that, you should take Jade with you to see…





Rolls have been omitted. But you have successfully spoken to all your friends, and you can confirm that they are all fine now. Whether because they were already fine, or because you were able to give them the nudge they needed.

Yes, even Jade Whistle.

The sole exception is Cadance, who you have not yet been able to meet. You will speak to her… later this turn, as soon as you can and as soon as she is available.

What do you mean there is somepony else missing? Don't be ridiculous. You spoke to all your confidantes on screen, and to all your other friends off screen. There is no need for an individual scene for every single one of them, and QM definitely did not forget anypony.


"You don't lo-ho-hooove me anymore…!"

"Rarity."

"You hate me. You hate me! That's the only explanation. Why else would you be doing this to me?!"

"Rarity, you are being dramatic."

"Me? Dramatic? The gall... the nerve! After everything I did for you, Velvet, how could you?"

"Where the hay did you get that sofa from…? It-… it doesn't matter. Rarity, please stop crying."

"These are not tears, Velvet. This is my blood. My very soul! Because how could you? HOW. COULD. YOU?"

"…"

"On the same turn that you summon an Incarnadescence, you also fix your flank. And then you… and then you send me away for a commission? How could you be so cruelllll?"

"Rarity, let go of my dress!"

"Please, just a peek of your flank. Just a glimpse! I promise I'll only lick it once!"

"Okay, we are DONE here, let-… let go of me and-!"

"Just ten minutes. Five! Five minutes! Just that, and then I'll be gone for the rest of the turn like you asked, just please-!"

"I- Ack- Sto-… Fine! Stars above, fine, you win! But this is not canon, and we are still being posted on the safe for work section!"

"Yes! Yes! Whatever, I don't care. We can end the update right now! Just let m-"

This update is now over. QM will begin working on the Snekrament.

A/N: This is a reminder that when Rarity takes a commission, she is completely unavailable (and physically absent) for the whole turn.
 
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Knock 5 New
You are Velvet Covers, and you have been… thinking.

At first, it was just an idle thought. A flight of fancy, or perhaps a vague mulling, but not really something you thought would take you anywhere.

Then, at some point, you thought that "there might be something more to this".

And then you started to think about it more and more, with greater focus and attention, until finally things just went downhill, as these kinds of thoughts are wont to do.

Now, you can't really think about anything else. Now, these thoughts consume your every waking moment, to the point you can't focus on anything other than this.

This sensation, or perhaps this storm you are going through, is oddly familiar. You haven't felt like this in several years now, but you are pretty sure the first time you felt this way was right after you met… Copper Secateur.

Yes, this is undoubtedly the sensation that, as your husband says, you are caught in a hurricane. This is absolutely the sensation that you are falling into a hole. That you are trapped in a maze that you can't really escape, and that this idea in your mind simply has to mean something.

But here's the thing… the fact that you are falling, or that you are stuck, or that you can't stop thinking about it also tells you that there is something there. There is something more to this, and you are not just circling around some delusion.

Still, whatever answer you might be looking for, or whatever secret is calling to you, has been eluding you thus far.

Or at least, it had been eluding you… until now.

Because you think you got it. You think you know what happens next.



You think you finally understand what you must do.



It is late in the afternoon. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet, and the light that comes from the windows is painting everything in a soothing orange as you walk down the corridor of the second floor.

You are currently in your home… at least physically. But in all honesty, it doesn't really fell like that. You may be in your home, but something feels strange. And you know it is not your house that is wrong. Instead, it is you who feel like a stranger here.

Because although you know you are yourself, and you know you are Velvet Covers, you still feel like you are leaving something behind with every step you take. You aren't really abandoning anything, and you know you aren't about to disappear either. But still, you can't help but feel like you will lose a little bit more of yourself, if you follow through with this.

And yet, your hooves will not stop moving.

Eventually, you reach your destination. Inevitably, you make your way down the corridor of the second floor, until you reach the door of a specific guest room.

In the past, this door stood adamantly closed before you. No matter how much strength or power you applied to it, you were never really able to open it. You could yell through it, and heaven knows you did so many times, but ultimately you could never really seek an audience with the being that took residence behind it.

And yet, today, none of that happens. Today, you don't even need to raise a hoof to knock on the door.

Today, the door opens, and welcomes you in, the moment you stop in front of it.

Because today, you finally… understand.

Today, you finally…



"Ae knew ye wuid come."



A voice, her voice, comes from inside the room.

The interior of the room is pitch black. More than just that, it is dark, and it is damp, and it is cold, and it is unwelcoming. It is a stark contrast to the warm and sunset-bright corridor you are standing on, and that contrast only makes the interior of the room more alien in comparison.

And perhaps this is why the door chose to open itself without any resistance to you.

After all, for all that the door is open before you, the barrier it represents is still there. Because now that you no longer have an excuse of a locked door before you, you can clearly see… you can clearly comprehend that stepping through its threshold is not a decision to be made lightly.

Maybe the door kept itself locked, before, because you were not yet ready. Maybe the door kept itself locked because you did not truly understand what you were asking for, or what you were trying to do by crossing it.

But now… you do. You just do.

And perhaps, the most terrifying thing is that you can no longer stop yourself from crossing it.

You don't even think about it. You don't even order your legs to move. It just happens.

One moment you are standing in the warm and familiar corridor of your home.

And on the next moment, you are standing inside this alien and cold nest.

!!!

The door closes itself behind you. And finally, you are alone with her.



Finally, you are alone with the Daughter-of-Axes.



You know she is looking at you, from within the darkness. You know that, should you close your eyes, you will see much more than a messy room occupied by a grumpy mare. You know that, if you truly try to pierce the darkness either with the glow of your horn or the Moth in your eyelids, you will see a predator. A creature that, despite its chains, is still large enough to crush your home and strong enough to squeeze the life of your bones.

You know all of that, and that is why you don't dare to disturb the darkness.

You don't even blink.

And yet, despite all of that, you are not afraid either.

Because for the first time since you met here, you are not here as an unwelcome intruder.

You might not be here as a welcome guest, but the two of you understand you are the second best thing to that.

"Silky Stream told me something, not long ago," you say, towards the darkness where you know there are no ponies waiting.

And the slightest, faintest noise of something slithering answers you.

"She told me that Knock isn't real. That holes aren't real. That sometimes, what is missing is more important than what is present. It made no sense to her, of course, but the more I thought about it…"

You trail off. Not because you are reminiscing, and not because the creature in the darkness is not interested. But instead, you trail off because she already knows where you are going with that.

A statue is a slab of stone with its imperfections carved off.

A key is a piece of metal with a code scraped off its body.

So why are you still clinging to the hubris that your soul is perfect the way it currently is?

The more you thought about that, the more you think about this, the more you realize that… this is an inevitable conclusion, to anypony who studies the Lores. Not just Knock, but any Lore. Because you may have spent a long time building up your knowledge, and perhaps even what you might call "power". However, it only makes sense that, at some point, you might have to make a few changes in yourself.

Maybe there are things inside of you, things that are innate to everypony's nature but that go unused, that are simply weighing you down.

Maybe there are things inside of you, that aren't really that important, that could be cut off to make room for something else.

Or maybe, just maybe, you just…

"A few months back, when we first met, you said you were willing to bargain with me for something," you say. "You called it an exchange of favors. I would run an errand for you, and in return you would give me the ability to make the trip."

A sharper, louder sound of slithering, comes to your ears. But this time, it is not just from the darkness in front of you. It comes from your sides, and from behind you, and from above you.

You try to ignore the fact that you could hear it, or that you thought you heard it, coming from inside of you. You try to ignore the short gust of wind that just fluttered against your mane, that came from a forked tongue as large as your tail sniffing the air.

"I am here to ask if that offer, and that bargain, still stands," you finish.

You hear, coming from the distance, the sound of something large and heavy settling down. The noise came from somewhere too far away to have come from inside this room, and from a direction that couldn't possibly have come from inside your own house.

But you are long past believing you are still inside your house anyways.

"Do ye even kno' wot yer' asking…?"

The answer comes. Her voice is familiar, but the tone she is speaking with is not. Or rather, you have only very rarely heard her speak like that.

She sounds focused. Concentrated. Maybe even serious. And there is no poison or edge on her words save for those that drip down from her great fangs.

In fact, she doesn't even give you time to answer her question, if it was a question at all.

"Ther' are thresh'olds, an' then ther' are thresh'olds. Ther' are passages, an' then there are holes."

The sensation that something is coiling around you tightens. And for all that nothing is truly touching you, you can feel that the air itself is pressing against your coat, as if being pushed in by a great and constricting presence.

"Every adept reaches a point where thae understand thae're in too deep. A point where they no'ice they crossed a laen, and tha' for all tha' they cuid come back… they dinnae want to. Not anymore."

You feel yourself swallowing something dry. And she sees it, you know she does.

But still, you feel something welling up inside of you because you know what she is talking about. You have already experienced what she is talking about. You know what that line is. You have already crossed it, even.

You have already crossed it nine times.

"Et's a mental thresh'old. The point where ambition becomes stronger than good sense. An' tha's why et's called… a realization. Th' Branding Door dinnae require power or knowledge tae cross it, et only requires the commitment tae never step back from it," her voice says, and for all that her true self does not have shoulders, you swear you can hear her shrug. "Bo' then again, et's impossible tae reach tha' commitment without power and knowledge."

She says that, and then she pauses. But not because she is thinking about anything. Not because she is introspecting or wondering what she should say next.

Instead, as she pauses, you can feel a great pair of predatory eyes focusing on you, from the dank darkness.

"Bo' wot yer askin' me is… different. Ye realize tha', aye?"

The weight of her attention is so much that your breath chokes inside your throat. You have to force yourself not to cough, and it is the best you can do to just take a long and deep breath.

Still, you wouldn't be able to answer her even if you tried. Not with words, at least.

So instead, you silently nod your head.

Even if the sound of the muscles of your neck moving, and of your stiff joints protesting from the strain of attracting the attention of a predator, sounds deafening in your ears.

"The first point o' no return for ev'ry adept is mental. Ye reach it when yer mind lets go o' th' desire tae return. Bo' this… this is more… This next step is a sacrifice. Et's self-mutilation. Et's the loss of the ability itself o' returnin'. Even if ye come tae regret yer decisions, even if ye burn away yer knowledge an' yer power an' yer realization, ye'll be incapable o' coming back."

Something moves. Everything moves. The same way you cannot pull on a chain without dragging its entire length, you can hear the whole world slithering around you as something old and great and long enough to stretch to the horizon begins to move.

And the next time she speaks, her voice is coming from the space right above your body. Her words dripping down on you like the poison that is drooling from her outstretched mouth.



"An' even tho ye kno' all tha'… do ye still wish tae continue?"




The voice asks that

And on that moment, even though you know all the risks, and even though you know everything you could lose, and even though you do not yet know the full extent of her price, you still give her the only possible answer.

Because even in the depths of this pit, whilst surrounded by a monster that is the size of your world, the only thing your eyes can truly see is the light of Glory.

And this, you know, is the path that will lead you up.

"Yes," you say.

And when her jaws close around your body, and her fangs bite deep into your sides, you don't even feel pain.





- - -

- - -

- - -





It is called the Silver Key.

Not "a" Silver Key. "The" Silver Key.

Because although it might function as a key, it is not one that can be crafted or gifted or stolen away. It will never be only yours, the same way it will never be only mine.

It can be shared without being copied.

It can be owned, but it cannot be held.

It is like a memory, or a password that is memorized. But instead of being stored in your mind, it is stored in your soul.

There is a reason why we use poisons, you know. There is a reason why snakes cannot be denied, and why we are known as royalty.

Because this poison, our poison, eats away at the soul.

It is lethal when used by the uninitiated, of course, but then again so is the butcher's knife or the sewing needle.

But we are not butchers, and we are not seamstress. We are key makers. And we use this poison to etch souls into keys, the same way we can use acid to carve the teeth and notches of the objects we craft.

So yes, it will burn you, and it will eat you, and it will strip away parts of you. But it will be applied with precision and skill, and only until your essence has reached the proper shape.

If it hurts, that means you were not ready to have that piece of your soul cut away.

If it hurts, that means you were not properly trained and prepared.

If it hurts, it will never stop hurting, until the poison corrodes everything else.

But if it doesn't hurt, you will be one of us.

Now close your eyes, this won't hurt a bit.

...

"Yes, Master."





This memory is not yours. This memory is not hers. And yet, this memory belongs to both of you, now. Passed down from key maker to apprentice since the very first time, like a faint signature etched into a masterpiece that is copied out of respect and tradition.

And yet, despite being just a memory, you will live the rest of your life with the surety that those words were meant for you.

Velvet Covers has attained Sacrament in the Lore of Knock. Your Knock is now level five. You have finally attained a Sacrament, and you believe the next step in this and any other Lore would be to achieve Mastery over it.

In return, you have promised the Daughter-of-Axes you will run an errand for her. Technically speaking, you could not uphold your end of the bargain and keep the boons you just earned. However, you believe that would be catastrophic to your relationship with the Snake-Name.

Furthermore, your unconscious and writhing body has been unceremoniously tossed through the Foggy Mirror.

More to follow. Very, very soon.
 
Last edited:
Through the Foggy Mirror 1/?? New
You lurch. You lurch hard.

You don't feel like you just woke up. You don't feel like you are in a nightmare either. But still, somehow, this is much worse.

The first thing you feel is the sensation of being kicked in the stomach, and everything you have inside of you comes out through your mouth in reaction.

It hurts. This hurts. Your entire body hurts. And you are only vaguely aware that your face is turned downwards as you spew out the contents of your guts.

Everything around you is cold. Everything is cold and hard and painful. And the worst part is that you don't even know where you are. You don't even know who you are.

A loud, scratching noise comes to your ears, and it takes you too long to realize it's the sound of you coughing. After that, probably out of sheer survival reflexes, comes the sound of heaving. Also from you.

"Ahh… ahh… ahh…"

But eventually, even if painfully, you manage to get your bearings.

And slowly, you realize that it isn't really your body that is hurting. It's something that's inside your body. Something that is inside you, and outside you, and covering you like a cape and steering you like the captain of a ship.

It is your essence that is hurting. Your very soul, even.

It hurts because parts of it were eaten away. It hurts because it was etched with acid and poison and memories that were created before recorded history.

It hurts… because you made it. Because it worked.



You are Velvet Covers.

And you have successfully completed a voyage to a place that is farther away than tomorrow's horizon.



"I… I am… I did it?" you say out loud, the words scratching painfully against the inside of your throat.

And your pain, unwelcome and deep-seated as it may be, actually helps you ground yourself. It reminds you of what just happened, which in turn reminds you of how you got here, which in turn reminds you of…

"Ye dinnae fokken die. Good."

A voice, a terribly familiar voice, comes from… somewhere nearby. And that finally makes you realize that you can do more with your body than just be in misery.

"I… where am… Axe?" you say out loud, the words feeling wrong as they come out of a mouth that is too dry. But still, you are able to speak.

You are able to speak, and to move around, and to throw away the damp and disgusting thing that is covering you.

Everything was hard and cold when you came to your senses. But now you realize your surroundings are actually soft. You seem to be on a bed of sorts. And after a good amount of awkward thrashing, you finally manage to throw away whatever sheets were covering you.

"Aye, aye, et's me. Now get on yer fokken hooves, aye? Keeping this gate open is a pain."

You look around you and see… well, you can only see that it is too dark for you to see anything. You blink, but only a deeper darkness greets you. You don't yet remember why that is worrying, but you get the feeling that this is wrong.

Still, despite the darkness all around you, your eyes finally settle on something… familiar.

You are on a bed, and probably inside a room. There is just enough light, faint as it might be, for you to see the vaguest of contours.

However, on one of the corners of the room, you can see what you are absolutely sure is a mirror.

You know it is a mirror because what little light is bathing this room is coming from its surface. You know it is a mirror because, although you cannot see your own reflection, you can see what looks like a vortex of clouds, or perhaps fog.

But most of all, you know it is a mirror because Axe's voice is coming from it.

"Are… are you there? Is this how you got me here?" you ask, saying those words towards the foggy mirror.

And for all that you cannot see the snakemare, you swear you can hear her rolling her eyes.

Which in turn reminds you of… everything else.

"Yes, you did and… and we made it. I'm here!" you say, feeling a smile come to your face for the first time. Because you made it. You made it! You have no idea of how momentous this is, but whatever Axe did to you worked, and you realize that only means you are more because of it.

Although…

"Wait, I'm here but… where is here, exactly?" you ask.

"It dinnae matter, does it?" her answer, annoyed as ever, comes through the clouded mirror. "Now, wot ae need ye tae do es-"

"No, Axe, you don't understand. I… this is kind of important?" you say, feeling the snakemare's annoyance grow, even though you cannot truly see her. "I really need to know where I am. I mean, what if this place is dangerous?"

"Thar's nothin' ae can tell ye. So just le' me tell ye wot yer supposed tae do an ye can-"

"Axe, please, you are being unreasonable," you interrupt her again, feeling your own pulse quicken as she once again refuses to tell you the very basic of what you need to know. "I mean, you brought me here, right? You have to know something. Anything at all! How else can I prepare for whatever you want me to do if you don't-"



"AE. DINNAE. FOKKEN. KNO!"



But this time, the mare interrupts you so suddenly that the mirror almost shakes.

But more than just that, you don't just feel anger in her voice. There is something more than just that, and it isn't all directed at you. To the point that you feel at the same time that you have just been slapped in the face, and that you are witnessing something like a dam breaking or a bridge cracking.

"Es tha' wot ye want me tae sae?! Tha' aem fokken useless?! Tha' they left me tae ROT? Ae dinnae kno! I dinnae know where they went! I dinnae kno wo' they were doin'! All ae kno is tha' SHE NEVER CAME BACK!"

You just stand there, honestly stunned.

Because what she just said, and the way she just said it. Her very tone, even, from the dryness of her voice to the shakiness in her words.

You cannot see her, through the mirror. You have no idea what her expression looks like. But it would not surprise you if the young mare is…

You just stand there in silence, as you listen to the mare as she heaves.

And for a moment, you think you hear what sounds like a soft sniff.

"Ae kno… wot direction they went. Ae kno enoff tae send you there, and tae pull ye back. But… but me chains aren't long enoff for me tae go meself! So… are… are ye goin' tae keep yer end of the deal or not?"

You have already heard Axe angry. You have already heard Axe when she was serious. But this might be the very first time that you ever heard Axe speaking like this.

She sounds… terribly lonely. Scared. Maybe even desperate. And somehow, although you have no idea why, you can tell that she is looking at the ground while she speaks.

A small part of you is glad that you aren't really standing next to her, because you are not sure what you could say that the mare wouldn't take the wrong way. But another part of you, a much larger one, wish you were next to her right now. Because for all that she doesn't take well to other ponies, nopony really deserves to be alone when they sound like… that.

Still, you are here, and she is somewhere else, so all that you can do is answer her question.

"Yes… I'll do it," you say.

And you have to bite down the I am sorry, that nearly came out of your mouth.

"… aye… Ae want ye tae look fer my… well, it dinnae matter. Take this."

She says that, and moments later something rolls out of the liquid surface of the mirror. It is a medallion, you can tell, that apparently was tied to her own braid, judging by the strands of purple mane that are still sticking to it.

The medallion, you see, has an odd symbol on its surface. The symbol itself looks like a trio of knots, or an overly fancy collection of circles. However, the medallion seems to have been cut, or slashed, at some point. And the ancient air that the medallion has somehow tells you that the slash itself is an important part of its symbolism.

"Wear this, somewhere that can be seen. An' stroll around with it, if ye can… they'll either recognize ye, or she… well, tha's all I need for ye to repay me."

She says that, and with the faint noise of a distant breeze the fog in the mirror disappears.

Leaving you alone, in a dark room, with the ancient medallion that she gave you.

You think you understand. More than just what she wants you to do, you think you understand what is going on.

Because you are not sure where you heard it from, whether if Axe herself let it slip, or if it was from Baldomare, or maybe you just had the knowledge imparted to you while wandering the Mansus. But still, you are pretty sure that Axe was part of a… group, of sorts. A cult, or perhaps and order, or maybe even a sisterhood. And of course, unless Axe was their leader, it stands to reason that the ponies with whom she mingled would have been at least as… competent, or powerful, as she is.

So, the fact that she has been stuck in the Mansus all alone this whole time certainly raises questions.

And this place, which seems to be "too far" for her to reach herself, might just be the very last hint she had of… wherever those ponies went. Of wherever "she" went, whoever that "she" might be.



You let out a long, sad sigh. You don't really know what to make of this. You don't really know how to feel. After all, this whole time, Axe has been belligerent at best, and intentionally unpleasant at worst. This whole time, you thought of her as an unruly teenager who somehow had too much power in her hooves.

But the way she spoke to you just now, the way her tone felt, you… well, you can't help but think of her as only a teenager, without any of the other negative aspects attached to it. A lonely, confused, abandoned teenager who has been trapped by herself for longer than the Princesses walked Equestria.

And that makes you feel…

You have no idea how much time has passed. But eventually, you eyes begin to adjust to the darkness. Either that, or there is enough light coming from a nearby window, thanks to a rising sun, that you can see enough of your surroundings now.

And naturally, your eyes immediately fall on the mirror that is right in front of you. The mirror where you could never see Axe, but that somehow told you more about her than you ever knew.

You look at that mirror and… and…



……

!!!!!!!!!

And your eyes go wide in surprise.

More than just that, your entire body bristles in reaction, every last muscle in your body tensing up as you realize something had been observing you this whole time. Some instinctive and ancient part of your pony brain triggering your fight-or-flight instincts as you realize you are staring at a predator.

A scream threatens to come out of your mouth, but you bite down at the last moment, because…because…!

"W-wait…" you say to yourself, as your adrenaline-filled body and your quickened heartbeat slowly realizes that… well, that nothing has really happened.

And as the seconds stretch by, the rational side of your brain finally retakes the reins of your body, and reminds you that you are still looking at a mirror.

But if you are looking at a mirror, why in Equestria…?

"Why in Tartarus…" you say to yourself.

And the mouth of the figure you are looking at mimics the movement with disgusting familiarity.

Because why in all of Equestria is there a monkey… a simian, looking back at you from the mirror?





- - -

- - -

- - -





You hate this.

You hate this.

This is disgusting. This is wrong. This is just not right!

You have been duped. Duped! And this has to be that horrible snakemare's fault. Because it just makes sense! The moment you feel a sliver of pity for her, it turns out she did something like this to you?!

"How am I supposed to walk with just two legs? And what are these horrible little things on my forelegs? And why the hay are these on my chest?!"

You have no tail. You have no fur on your body to protect you from the elements. And your mane is all wrong.

You are… this is… this is horrible! A disaster!!!

And what is more, the more you think about it, the more these… memories come to you. This feels vaguely familiar to that time you switched lives with another you, while studying your own Brand. But it is also different in a way you can't quite put your hoof on.

Still, none of that matters. Because what they hay are you supposed to do? How the hay does your life even works?!

It… you don't… there is no instruction manual to any of this and…!

"Screw it. I am not going to learn this the hard way," you say to yourself.

Because this body… this life, it has to belong to somepony, right? You don't know if you completely hijacked your own body, or if this monkey-you is still somewhere inside your brain. But whatever the answer may be, you can tell that you still have memories inside of you.

So, you will dig for them. You will dig for them, and you will force your body to help you navigate this.

With that in mind, you close your eyes, and then you push into your own mind and-



[Training montage(?), breakpoints 50/60/80/100/120]

[Roll: 34 + 14 (Learning) + 40 (Secret Histories, level 4) + 40 (I Have Been Here Before) = 128]

[Final breakpoint reached, no re-rolls invoked]



You push, and then you push, and then you drag out everything you find.

And just like that, you remember the basics of common sense, such as how to operate your body and walk on two sun-damned legs.

And then you remember the basic details of your own life, such as your name, and where you live, and what your job is.

And then you remember a swathe of other, equally important things. Such as the ponies… the people that surround you, and the little things that you would need to navigate this life without calling any unwanted attention.

And then you remember about the Lores, and how to properly use them here.

And then you realize… something else, that you might want to keep your eyes open for.

You remember all of that, and then you… you…

Dear heavens… no, dear God, you will need some time to parse through all of this.

Lucky for you, today seems to be a Sunday.

You let out a loud, unsightly groan. But nopo-… nobody is here to hear it. After all, it seems you have not married anyone called Stormchaser here, much to your concern.

It also seems that you are still a cripple here. You definitely will want to address that before the day is done.

But more importantly, you have to prepare for tomorrow. Because you think, you hope, that you already have a plan for how to do what Axe asked you.

However, there are several things you will have to do in order to accomplish that…





- - -

- - -

- - -





You are Professor Velvet Covers, a faculty member of Canterlot High School in charge of teaching history.

You are a human, if that word means anything to anypony, and you will do your best to say "anyone" instead of "anypony" from now on.

Still, even though those statements seem simple enough, you have to admit that there is a lot to unpack here.

Because this place that the Daughter-of-Axes sent you to… this world, if you can even call it that. There is no other way to describe it. This place feels like a dream.

It is a very real dream, mind you. A dream that is more lucid and real than the Mansus itself. It is, as far as you can tell, a waking reality.

But still… whenever you start paying attention to it, certain things just don't make sense. The farther away you try to look, or the more you explore certain details, the less things make sense.

However, the opposite is also true. If you don't think too much about it, and if you just treat this as a dream-that-is-real, then everything seems to be simple enough. Everything just makes sense, as long as you don't try to dig too deep.

So, again, you are a… human. An ugly, bipedal simian that is somehow capable of speech.

You are also a professor at a school.

And even though everything around you looks like a parody of the real world, the fact remains that you are also surrounded by places, and faces, that are disturbingly familiar.

You will need more time, a lot more time, to properly explore all of this. And you probably will have to prioritize certain things over others. However, you are pretty sure that right now you understand enough. You understand things well enough and, more importantly, you have a class to teach today.

So, that is exactly what you are going to do.

You have already been to college, back in the real world, so everything here feels oddly familiar. The entire setting, of corridors and classrooms and everything else, is something you can navigate well enough. Plus, you have your memories, and the familiarity of your own body, to help you guide you through the motions

Which means you are confident enough in yourself as you stride down the corridor, and let your body guide you to the classroom where you are supposed to go.



"Good morning everyp-one. Take your seats, class is in session!"



You say that as you open the door of the classroom (with your hands, since you don't have a horn). And just like you expected, you are immediately greeted by a sight that is… well, familiar to your body, but definitely alien to the rest of your mind.

Because right in front of you is what you can only describe as a haggle of teenagers. Monkey-teenagers, mind you, not proper pony ones. Still, despite the setting being utterly sensible, with desks and chairs and everything else, the creatures inhabiting them are anything but.

However, it seems that teenagers act the same no matter what species they are. So, it doesn't surprise you to see that only half the class even acknowledged your entry.

But that was expected… because you see, as you repaired your leg yesterday and sifted through your memories, you very quickly came to a conclusion of sorts. You might even call it a realization, as sad as that might sound.

And what you discovered is that "Professor Velvet Covers" is… an extremely boring and sad woman.

No, really, you mean it. You don't mean to be rude to yourself, but there is no other way to say it.

You could see it from the depressingly small selection of clothes in your wardrobe. You could see it from the memories you have of your previous classes, where all your students were either sleeping or not paying attention. Hell, you could see it from the fact there is a Stormchaser-shaped hole in your life and no ring on your left hand.

But you aren't saying that just to be mean to yourself. Quite on the contrary.

Because the thing is that, under normal circumstances, that discovery would be… sad. Just sad, but not really a problem. However, these are not normal circumstances. These are not normal circumstances, and the task Axe gave you requires you to call attention to yourself.

After all, you are here for one reason, and one reason only. And that is to have the medallion you have tied to your hair be noticed by… whoever you are looking for.

So, you need to make waves. You need to make waves, and you need to call attention, and there is no way that the quiet and unassuming Velvet Covers of this world would ever manage any of that.

Consequently, you need to make some changes. You already made some changes. And today, in this very classroom, you will do more than just that.

You repaired your leg. You tossed away the fancy (and perhaps even expensive) umbrella that apparently doubled as your cane. You are wearing a skirt that is perhaps half as long as what your other self usually wears, and you are showing more skin than this Velvet Covers would ever imagine.

By no means you are being improper. Especially given how your students are all teenagers. But still, you are a grown woman, and you know exactly what you are doing.

"Settle down, everyone! I know you all can hear me," you say out loud, although your voice is more amused than anything as you make your way to your desk in front of the classroom.

You don't even bother to hide the smile on your face, as the dawning realization slowly settles over your students.

Because slowly, but surely, your students began to notice you.

And they are finally realizing that something is not right.

"Excuse me, miss?" a student, not anyone you can recognize yet, raises her hand as she speaks. Her dark hair and thick glasses make you think she is the resident know-it-all of your class, but you will have to wait and see. "We are supposed to have History with Professor Covers right now. Are you a substitute teacher?"

She asks that, and the confusion in her voice is just enough for everyone else to finally settle down and properly look at you.

And for a moment, for a precious span of five seconds, the class is completely quiet.

But oh, these five seconds are more than enough for a you.

"Whatever you mean by that, dear?" you reply to the student, watching her tilt her head slightly at that. "I am Professor Covers. Can't you recognize me?"

You say that, and you watch your students react with confusion. Some of them rub her eyes, some of them look sideways towards their peers. But none of them really stop looking at you.

And how could they, the difference between you and the woman that taught them classes last week is quite literally night from day.

But before any of them can really react, and before the know-it-all can say anything else, you act.

Or rather, you act.

It is a simple movement. One that every mare knows, and that probably every woman in this world already tried at some point. It is a simple movement, but one that is as effective as it is natural.

You simple move a hand to the back of your neck, towards your hair, and then you remove a pin that was holding your hair in place, and then you gently shake your head to let your long hair down.

And the smell of your perfume, sweet and smooth and covered with the overpowering influence that surrounds your chest like a ruby necklace, immediately fills the room.

The student who raised her hand looks utterly shocked, her eyes going wide in surprise, and everyone else reacts in a different way.

Well… the colts- the boys all react the same way, but the girls all have different reactions that range from confusion to disbelief.

Good, you think to yourself. And now that the children are all quite and properly paying attention, you can begin your lesson.

"Now then, shall we take attendance?" you ask.

And all your students, with one exception, are filled with delight as you call their names.



- - -



Class was interesting. Enjoyable, even. But still, it was mostly interesting.

Thankfully, the memories of your original body were more than enough for you to be competent at your job. And for all that your mouth was saying words and reciting historical facts that… didn't really make any sense, you could still tell that you were teaching, and that your students were learning.

But more than that, class was interesting because it told you a lot about this… world. This world, or this dream, or this place that shouldn't exist yet does.

Because you see, as you took attendance you recognized… several names. And the students who responded to those names, despite their unnerving appearance, also had a strong resemblance to the ponies you know.

But more than just their names and appearances, they also acted the same.

For example, when you asked for someone to be your helper for today, to write certain things on the board… well, almost everyone raised their hands.

But the young lady who almost jumped out of her desk, her face filled with excitement, was definitely Rarity.

And the shy girl who only raised her hand after she was sure you picked someone else was definitely Fluttershy.

Both of them are… human teenagers. Both of them are somehow the same age. And yet, their names, and appearances, and even their demeanors are all there.

You also recognized Applejack, sure, but most of all…



"Excuse me, Professor Covers, but wasn't independence declared in 1822?"



… most of all, you recognized her.

"Technically yes, Miss Sparkle. But our sovereignty was only recognized with the treaty of 1825," you answered.

And you watched as she… you watched as the person who is definitely Twilight Sparkle angrily write several notes on her book.

And for a moment, the only thing you could think of is that…

Here, she doesn't hate you.

Here, she has not lost everything.

Here, she is fine.

Of course, she is gone with the wind the moment the bell rings. She doesn't stay behind with the crowd of teenagers who are suspiciously dragging their feet for an excuse to stay in the classroom with you for a little longer. And she certainly doesn't approach you like Rarity does.

However, you can't help but think that…



Well, you have too many things to do. You will figure this out as things go by.





[You have successfully began the special event "Through the Foggy Mirror"]





You are Professor Velvet Covers. Your sole mission here is to search for whoever the Daughter-of-Axes is looking for, and in order to do that you will need to make the rounds and be seen.

However, there is more than enough time to pursue other interests. So, even though it is impossible to do everything, you can still go here and there as you parade your medallion.

(See the notes below for more information)



PERSONAL ACTION POINTS REMAINING: 4


You have made time in the real world, so you will have time here. What shall you do with it?


You will return home, back through the foggy mirror.

[] Return home. (Return home and redistribute all your personal action points)
[VETOED, you must spend at least one action here, since you just arrived]


You will stay a while and… (Costs one personal action point. Pick THREE options)

[] Alright, WHERE is Stormchaser? (Look for your dear beloved)
[] They are young and impressionable. Thankfully, you are a responsible adult. (Hang out with Rarity and Fluttershy, your real-life confidantes)
[] "Miss Sparkle? See me after class." (Approach Twilight Sparkle)
[] "Is there anything on your mind, Miss Jack?" (Approach Applejack)
[] "To be honest? I think your job is better than mine." (Approach Cheerilee. She is here… somewhere)
[] "Yes, it's about your daughter. What class I teach her? Well…" (Approach the Rich parents)
[] This feels like a dream. Treat it like one. Explore this strange place.
[] This place has a library. Go take a look.
[] What is this "cellphone" all the kids are talking about? Why do you have one? And what is this "Internet" thing?
[] You are here for a reason. Get. It. Done. (Further your search for Axe's… contact)

How this will work:

You currently have four (4) plan actions set aside for this Sacrament. So, with every "cycle" you have the choice to either spend one action to stay here for a bit longer (and pick THREE of the available choices), or you can return home and stop for this turn.

And just so you know, this isn't just going to be a "side story" that will not impact Velvet Covers' life back in Equestria. On the contrary. Some of the available choices will give you little to no reward, while some of the available choices are entire "routes" that, if followed to the end, will give you interesting choices in the end. And ultimately, there is DoA's request on the backdrop which must be furthered by doing the search.

To make it clear, you will only progress DoA's task by picking the last option to "Get. It. Done."

But don't worry. If you successfully finish the search, you will not be forced to immediately leave. Instead, you can continue to explore this world until you run out of your four plan-actions.





Vote in PLANS (Edit: ) APPROVAL. The three options with the most votes will be picked.. 12 hours moratorium for people to get their bearings.

Feel free to ask any questions. But to be clear, this is exactly what it looks like.

Welcome to the Equestria Girls mini-arc, in the world beyond the foggy mirror.
 
Last edited:
Turn 21 - Results, part 4 New
Authors note: Normally, updates are written on the order they are meant to be posted. This is a rare exception. But yes, this part of the story takes place here, between the two threadmarks it is nestled.

[X] Plan Prudent KISSing
-[X] (AotL) Lantern
-[X] (Forge) Forge 3 reagent
-[X] (Knock) Explore the Summit
-[X] (Winter) Invoke a Risen
-[X] (Social) Teach Selene
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Family
-[X] Fleeting Opportunity: Friends
(but Cadance remains to be spoken to)
-[X] Perform the Forge's Redemption
--[X] Sacrifice Forge 3 reagent
--[X] At Jade's old house

-[X] Sacrament: Through the Foggy Mirror (4x)

[X] Plan Spreading Ourselves Thin Always Gets Us Punished
-[X] Do not leash anypony.
-[X][DETECTIVES] Follow Up: Changelings
-[X][CONSTABLES] (FOLLOW UP) Your detectives have given you a very long list, of ponies and places involved in the attempt against your life. Round them up and put them all in jail, before this trail goes cold.
-[X][COMMISSIONER] The Lunar Bureau is not the only recently-minted institution in Equestria. Try to contact the others.
--[X] Eclipse(?), and Midday Dew.
-[X][JADE] Research "A Memory of Light" (Current progress 0/100, uses Learning and LANTERN)
-[X] (Baldomare-Gift) Edge 6 book
-[X][BALDOMARE] Channel an Influence. (Secret Histories)
-[X][AXE] Ask for a Knock lesson.
-[X][MAREINETTE] Channel an Influence. (Grail)

-[X][SELENE] Soothe the night. (Her Winter realization. Unknown effects, if any.)
-[X][RARITY] Take a Commission.
-[X] Needs must. Ask somepony to procure you a dead body from the local cemetery.
-[X] Three extra Velvet actions! (Costs 9 follower actions)
-[X] Something Else (lend Heartifact to Comet)

You are Velvet Covers.

It is night.

You are at your home, sleeping with your husband, and you are almost entirely sure that this is one of those dreamless nights where you will just wake up on the next day well rested.

Yes, everything is quiet. Everything is in peace.

Everything is just fine…



[Edge Realization: Velvet Covers is immune to ambushes]

[All guarding characters have been alerted]



… until it isn't.

You don't wake up. At least, not in the sense that you open your eyes and slowly stretch your body while hugging your husband's chest.

Oh no, nothing like that happens. You don't wake up like that. You do not wake up in peace.

Instead, a creeping tide of anger slowly wells up inside of you. First as a puddle, then as a pool, until is finally becomes an ocean that threatens to spill out of you.

Because you can sense it. You can smell it as clearly as you would be able to smell a flower in spring.

You can sense that somepony just invaded your house. Which means somepony is going to die.

You do not get up. You don't want to wake your husband. This is not something that is worth waking your husband for. Because anything, anything that threatens your family's peace is nothing more than a bug that deserves to be squashed.

You will not wake him up. You will not even mention to him that this ever happened. You will just kill whoever intruded upon your home, and then creep back to your husband's warm embrace.

And no, you do not care that you are barely thinking straight.

With nothing in mind but your bubbling anger, you carefully stalk out of your bed.

And then you make your way to your home's self-appointed guardian.



"Smells like wolves in here. Are you quite alright, my employer?"

"Just get to the point."

"Ah, it also sounds like wolves. Fascinating."



Your silent hoofsteps eventually take you to the balcony that oversees the central garden of the estate. And there, as always, you find Biedde.

The moon has not yet reached the top of the sky, and its light is shining down on everything you see. The stallion himself is still sitting on his rocking chair, smoking from his pipe. And everything around you is so quiet that, if you didn't know it yourself, you would have never guessed your home is currently being invaded.

"Well…?" you ask the stallion, your tone and thoughts still clouded by the fact you have not yet fully woken up.

"See for yourself," he answers.

His tone is utterly calm, and you don't feel even a hint of urgency from him. But then again, you don't think there is anything in this world that would make him tense. Not even the threat of death works against him, given his nature.

Still, the old stallion looks a little too calm and… no, it's not that.

You shake your head, trying to bring wake yourself up a little more to help you piece together this puzzle.

It's not that Biedde is calm… yes, that's right. Biedde is too professional to not act when needed. So, the fact that he is still here smoking his pipe probably means that…

You take another sniff, smelling the air for a few more seconds as you try to track this unwelcome scent.

"They… no, not they. It's only one pony. The intruder is… on my brother's building?" you ask, narrowing your eyes as you look at the nearby building where your younger brother took residence.

"Indeed. But try to look a little harder, will you? I wasn't even sure if you would qualify him as an intruder to begin with."

Biedde's words make you raise an eyebrow, and that helps you brush off a little more of your sleepiness.

Because why would he not qualify somepony who invaded your house as an intruder?

You take another whiff at the air and…

"Wait, that's Beyond Reproach?" you say, not even bothering to hide your surprise.

"So that's his name? He was quite adept at sneaking past your bodyguards," Biedde says, although more as an idle thought than anything else. "Still, he went straight to your brother's building, and from what I can tell he is currently sifting through his business archives."

That finally wakes you up for good, and the gears of your mind begin to grind as you try to make sense of your situation.

Because why would one of your detectives, one of your best detectives, be here? Why would he be sneaking into your brother's office of all places? And why in the heavens didn't you hear about an investigation on your family?

Oh, wait, no. Something clicks inside of your head, and suddenly everything makes sense.

Biedde didn't say Reproach went into your brother's office. He said he went into his business archive. And although you are not entirely familiar with how your brother operates the farmlands, a "business archive" sounds exactly where your brother would store all the old paperwork and legacy ledgers you have created, in case his accountants ever had need of them.

So Beyond Reproach is not investigating your brother. He is investigating you. He is looking at your ledgers, and your paperwork.

Ah…

You figured something like this might happen. In fact, given your ties to the cult, and Copper, and even the Lores, you have always dreaded this moment. Because you are very much aware that you are witnessing the first stone throw at what could potentially become an avalanche.

However, as much as you dreaded this moment, you also planned for this. You also considered what you could do in response, if something like this ever came to pass.

Still, you will need time to assess your situation and prepare. You need to find out if he is working alone, or if this is a problem that is slowly spreading through your agency. You need to figure out who you can count on to help you handle this. And several other things besides.

But for tonight, you only need to make one decision.

"So, your orders?" the old stallion asks, as casually as if he was asking for the time.

Although you are acutely aware of what exactly he wants to know.

"Let him be. And I mean it, don't kill him," you say doubling down to make sure he understands you do not want your top detective killed in your own home. "In fact, don't even show yourself to him."

The stallion answers with a slow nod, as he takes another long drag of his pipe.

"Although you can intervene if he tries to come to the second floor of the mansion," you add as an afterthought, as you turn your back to him and walk back into the house. "Don't want him snooping around close to where my daughters sleep."

Biedde answers you with a soft chuckle, and an understanding nod, but nothing more. He just turns his attention back to the garden, like an old pony who is appreciating the breeze.

As for you, well you are already yawning before you even reach your bedroom door. And you are snuggling into Stormchaser's warm embrace not long after that.

No need to kill anypony tonight, it seems. No need to wake up Selene, or hammer down Axe's door, or bargain with Mareinette for her aid against some unknown assailant. Just a small surprise, that you knew would appear sooner or later.

You will worry about this tomorrow.

And you are back to sleep before your head even hits your husband's foreleg.



- - -



It is almost noon. Lunchtime is maybe one hour away, and you think you are building up quite the appetite. But still, you aren't so hungry that you can't focus on the task at hoof.

And in all honesty, this is a very important task. This is something you have been meaning to do for quite a while now, and something that Selene has quite vocally been looking forward to.

Because although this might not be your idea of a mother-daughter activity, since you would much prefer a leisure stroll or a short trip for that, you are still doing something very important with your daughter.

Namely, you are teaching her. You are teaching her everything you know, and even some things you don't, to better prepare her for the future. After all, she is a Princess, and you know you won't always be there to protect her. So, passing on your knowledge to your daughter is the second-best thing you can possibly do.

So, that is why the two of you are currently in your former office, as your filly pours over the several stacks of paper that are on the ground all around her.

This is still a work in progress, but you are quite happy with how things are going.

And yes you are referring to both your office, which you are still slowly transforming into a workshop, and Selene's progress in her studies.

Although you are under no illusion that you will be able to teach her everything today, or even in just a few days. Oh no, this will take a while.

"This is… a lot," your daughter says, with the expression of a filly who is trying to memorize so many things that some of them are falling out of her ears.

"Well, it is. But there's a trick to it," you say, making your way towards her. "The more you learn about it, the more it all starts to make sense. This, all of this, clicks together in the end. But don't worry, we will take it one step at a time."

You say that to a Selene that is surrounded (literally surrounded) by a circle of papers. This all began with you giving her a formal lecture on the Lores, finally putting names and terms to the things you taught her over the last year. But eventually, as she began to take notes, and as you began to write things down as you spoke, it came to the point that you two ended up creating a small pile of papers that is currently all over the floor.

Well, there is that, and then there were also your drawings of sigils and icons that can be used for basic rituals. Which you also began to draw for educational purposes, until it eventually evolved to you creating a "mock" ritual circle by drawing the correct runes on paper and placing them on the floor on the spots where they should be.

In short, you agree with your filly that it has been a lot.

But you are also proud of the speed she is picking things up!

"I think I can see what you mean, about all of this stuff coming together," she says, as she looks around at the literal circle of notes surrounding her. "But a lot of this just doesn't make any sense to me. And I don't mean to say that I'm not understanding the theory of it. But some of these things don't make sense in principle. They almost sound silly, to be honest."

You narrow your eyes slightly, as you follow her gaze and see what she is looking at as she says that. And sure enough, as you expected, Selene is looking at the notes that refer to the Lores she is, well, less familiar with.

The look of confusion she had on her face when you tried to explain to her the leap of Lantern into Forge was adorable. But still, the fact remains she is not taking kindly to certain parts of the material, for very obvious reason.

But of course, your daughters are perfect and they can do anything and everything. So you will never say that she is "unsuitable" for anything.

Still, her interests have been mostly focused on four specific Lores, so that is where most of her progress has happened this morning.

"I'm sure you will get it eventually," you say. To which she replies with a half-hearted nod, her expression still deep in thought.

That is, until she finally blinks as if she just snapped out of whatever she was thinking about.

"Oh, I also, um…" she looks around her, at the several hours' worth of material you two have gone over, until her eyes finally fall on you. And then, for some reason, she looks slightly embarrassed as she gets up on her hoofs, "I also forgot to tell you something important, mom."

You tilt your head slightly, but you let her continue.

"Thank you, mom. I know you don't have a lot of free time anymore, when you're with us during the weekend. And I also realize I must have annoyed you a lot these last few weeks, when I was asking you to teach me. So, well, thank you!"

She says that, with the slightly tense expression of a pony who is maybe too self-conscious. But still, she also gives you a short curtsy once she is finished.

And your heart practically melts at the sight of that.

"Oh, Selene, you don't have to say any of that!"

You say that, and for some reason Selene immediately starts to float towards you. Which doesn't make any sense, because she is a filly right now, so she can't fly.

Of course, she is floating because you just lit up your horn, and because the glow of your magic is quite literally surrounding you as you bring her towards you.

But you don't notice any of that, because you are focusing on something much more important right now.

"You. Don't. Ever. Have. To. Thank. Me. For. Anything!" you say that, planting a kiss on the top of her head, while you hug her, with each word you say.

And your daughter is embarrassed. Oh, you know for a fact she is embarrassed. But thankfully, she never really pushed you back. Not now, and not when you did something like this in the past either.

Because although she is hiding her face behind her hoofs, her cheeks flustered by how much attention you are giving her, you can still see she has a smile on her face.

And that will always be enough for you.

"Now, I know we have covered a lot, and we will have to meet several more times these next few weeks," you say, as you reluctantly let her down after you fix up her mane. "However, we still aren't done for today."

You say that as you light up your horn, but this time for a purpose less important than foalnapping your daughter. Instead, you light up your horn and you begin to gather all the papers and notes that are sprawled on the floor.

"I… you mean we are still going to cover something?" Selene asks rather hesitantly.

Of course, she isn't backing down from whatever you have in store for her. After all, like she said, she was the one who asked you to teach her.

However, you can also hear an edge of nervousness in her voice, because her mind is very clearly no longer capable of reading even a single line of writing. Let alone go through another lecture about esoteric terms, or what have you.

After all, she is Princess Selene! And her mother (read: you) did not raise a quitter!

But still…

"… I mean, lunchtime is right around the corner, and…" she continues, and you hold back on smiling at the fact that she is clearly mimicking the tone Silky uses, whenever she is trying to convince you of something. "Will it at least be about something easy? And not about the… Secret Stories or any of that?"

She asks that just as you finish piling up all the notes and locking them in one of the nearby cabinets. And you don't even bother to shoot her an amused grin once you are done with that.

Because clearly, there is a reason why Silky, and not Selene, is the one in charge of sweet talking whenever they get into trouble.

"Don't worry about it. In fact, I think you might enjoy this," you say.

After that, you look towards the door to make sure it is locked, and then you light up your horn once again, directing your magic towards yet another one of your closets.

From that closet, you float out a gramophone. An old piece of history that your maids found while clearing up the building your brother would move into. But despite its appearance it still works, and your maids also found a small collection of disks that turned out to be quite to your liking.

So, under Selene's confused gaze, you set up the gramophone, place one of the disks on it, and crank its handle with your magic for it to play.

And moments later, a soft melody begins to flow through the room.

"Mom, what are you doing?" she asks.

You are glad that she doesn't sound nervous. After all, she didn't really understand much about Heart, and you can picture her cringing a little if she thinks you are about to teach her a short lesson on that.

Luckily, you have other plans in mind.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? I am a noble, you are a noble's daughter, so it only makes sense that I teach you certain things, no?" you ask, as you make your way to the opposite side of the room and give her a long and elaborate bow. "So, nopony will think it's weird if they hear some classical music while I teach you. And they certainly won't suspect if they hear the sound of hoofwork to accompany it."

And as if to make a point, you raise your right foreleg just a hair's breath above the ground-

Clip-clop

-and you strike the ground twice, the movement as quick as a blur, faster than your daughter can blink.

But for all that the sound of your metal horseshoe hitting the wooden floor echoes throughout the room, you don't really think anypony would think that was suspicious. Nopony will ever figure out what is truly happening, as long as you make it sound like rhythm and hoofwork.

Well, except for Biedde. But you are sure this will be like music to the old stallion's ears.

"So, would you like me to teach you how to dance?" you ask.

And the adventurous, excited smile she has on her face, as her body glows with light and she assumes her larger form, is a sight that you will always cherish.

With that, you begin your next lesson with your alicorn daughter.

Because she is strong, yes. She is strong, and she is fast, and she is powerful in the way that only a pony with wings and a horn can be. But deep down, you know she is worried that she will rely too much on those things.

Whereas on the other hoof, you, a thin and formerly crippled mare, have learned how to hold your own ground. Not because you are strong, but because you have acquired finesse. Because you have learned the technique.

So, as every mother should do, you will teach your daughter all you know. You will teach her the technique, so that she may add to her strength rather than merely rely on it. You will help your little filly be more than you ever could be, and that will bring nothing but happiness to your heart.

You give Selene another elaborate bow, which she mirrors from the other side of the room.

And then, you begin to teach your daughter how to dance.





You have taught Selene all you know, and she has learned all she can. Once you are done with your lessons, Selene's training will be officially complete.

Selene's Lore levels have all been upgraded to Level 4.

Selene has gained an additional +5 on her General bonus.

Selene has gained an additional +1 to her total health.


The rules for it were very simple. Or at least, that is what you thought.

Your mother told you to think of it like chess, or like any other board game where you have to think. Because in truth, that is how she told you to face these kinds of situation.

Quick thinking will be crucial when the time comes, she said, but you can't develop quick thinking if you first don't learn how to think about it to begin with.

So, she told you the rules, and the two of you began your game.

The rules were simple. Each of you could only move one leg at a time, taking turns. And you had to plant your hoof somewhere, so you couldn't just leave it up in the air.

That made you appreciate how much work really goes into walking, to begin with. After all, it basically took each of you four "turns" to take a step towards each other, moving one leg at a time.

But things got a lot more complicated once you got close to each other. Especially given how, your mother explained, you would score points by "planting" a hoof on each other.

And, as you would come to learn time and time again, you would lose all your points if you lost your balance and fell to the ground.

...

You lost time of how many times your mother swiped your legs from under you, making you fall face first towards the floor. You lost how many times you thought you could "plant" a hoof on her chest or her face, simulating a punch, only to realize you were a little too far, or that you wouldn't be able to keep your balance if you moved that particular leg.

And you lost count of how many times she would somehow close in, and kiss you on the cheek, right before booping you on the nose for the maximum number of points.

Dear moon, so many kisses. You felt so humiliated.

But in the end, you still thanked her, and in the end you still had a smile on your face. Her curious way of teaching you was... actually useful, and it gave you a greater appreciation of how little you have to work with, even though you have four legs and two wings, and of how nerve wracking a fight can actually be. Even when played out one motion at a time.

And one of these days -one of these days!- you will be able to evade your mother's kisses on your cheeks.

You are a Princess for star's sake!

Selene's trait "DILIGENT" has matured into the trait "DEDICATED".

Her character sheet will be updated, but all of these changes will only take effect at the END of this turn, to be used from turn 22 onwards.
 
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Through the Foggy Mirror 2/?? New
Tally
[X] You are here for a reason. Get. It. Done. (Further your search for Axe's… contact)
[X] This feels like a dream. Treat it like one. Explore this strange place.
[X] "Miss Sparkle? See me after class." (Approach Twilight Sparkle)

Your first few hours at Canterlot High are quite interesting. Not eventful, and not exactly surprising. But still, they are quite interesting.

Because there are a lot, and you really mean a lot of students here. Maybe you just got used to the small-town (or perhaps even large-village) feeling of Ponyville, where all of your daughter's classmates could be taught by a single Cheerilee. Or maybe there are just more humans in this strange world than there are ponies in Equestria.

Granted, you realize Ponyville is especially small and not a good point of reference. But still, there are enough students here that they are divided in grades and age groups, and there are several separate classes for the same grade, since the classrooms are not large enough to fit all of them.

So, it seems your working routine involves going "making the rounds" through the several classes of a grade, and giving the same lecture for them to ensure they are all on the same page.

Which means there are a lot of faces to look at, and a lot of names to remember. And given how you have not yet discarded the possibility that Axe's acquaintance is a student, you will have to be on the lookout for that as well.

"And I don't even teach all the grades," you say to yourself as you look at your schedule. "I teach the advanced course of history. But there's the basic course before that. And that's covers what, three grades?"

Still, your first few hours here haven't been interesting just because you were awed by a sea of students. You also learned, or perhaps confirmed what your memory told you, about several curious things on this school.

For example, it seems that Princess… well, that Celestia is the Principal of this place. And also that Selene is the Vice Principal, although she still goes by Luna here.

You have not yet met them, and you are not sure you want to given the current situation of the real-life Celestia. However, seeing how the Vice Principal doesn't seem to be your… well, your daughter, you assume that certain characteristics of the real world have not been mirrored in this place.

But that is something for you to think about later.

Oh, you also floated the name "Stormchaser" around during lunch, and it appears that he is a professor on another part of the school. History, and other "social" sciences, are all under one of the education chairs, but it appears your dear beloved teaches some kind of mathematical course, which means you would have to go out of your way to bump into him.

Other than that, your day was quite interesting. Interesting, but thankfully not eventful.

You were easily able to brush off any suspicion from your fellow faculty members, and you make sure to have the medallion in plain view at all times. Especially when you pass by a group of students, who all seem eager to look at you for some reason.

And just like that, your first day is over and you are ready to begin your search properly.



- - -





Today is…



It is now the second day and…



Something is wrong.

Something is very, very wrong.

You almost didn't notice. You almost didn't realize what happened.

However, no matter how hard you think about it… it is now the second day of your stay here.

And that is wrong.

Because you remember leaving school yesterday. You remember going home. You remember waking up filled with energy, and right now you are standing in front of the gate that leads to Canterlot High School.

But that's it.

You have a vague awareness that you went to bed. You hair is groomed and smell like shampoo. And you are wearing a slightly different outfit from what you had yesterday. Definitely something that you would wear, but also slightly changed based on what you learned yesterday.

And yet, you just realized you don't remember doing any of that.

No, that's not exactly right. You do remember doing all of those things. But those memories are… blurred? Distorted? No, it's not that. Those memories feel vague and unnatural. Almost like…



… almost like a dream.



You already had this impression, when you first got here. You already had the impression that this place was like a dream of sorts. But you didn't realize how bad it really was.

But now? Well, now you are thinking back to everything that happened since your arrival, and you are wondering how much of that was real, and how much of that was a sleepwalking mirage you went through.

Because yes, you remember arriving home and having dinner and changing clothes. But you can't remember how the food tasted like, or what your night clothes looked like. And everything that comes to your mind seems to be filtered through an out-of-body sensation. Like the one you used to have, when you still dreamed as a pony, where you would try to push a door or lift a cup and your horn simply wouldn't work, and you could not really understand why that was so distressing.

The more you think about it, and the more you think back to yesterday at night, the more you are sure of it. It feels like you are trying to grab hold of a mist, but there isn't really anything there.

However…

Something clicks inside your head, and you immediately stop your line of thinking. You also ignore the droves of students walking around you, making their way to the school's entrance, and instead you steady your breath.

After all, if all your memories are like a mist, and if there isn't really anything there to grab, then there is no use in getting distressed over it.

And what is more, the fact that you realized there is a mist to begin with is a victory of sorts.

You feel like you have already been in a situation like this, in real life. You feel like you have already faced a challenge like this before, even if you can't quite remember how or when or where.

Still, you get the impression that you have two choices here. To either try to understand everything, or to understand nothing at all.

So, as you look up towards the wide and open double-doors that lead to the school, you decide to…







"If this is all just a dream, I might as well treat it like one," you whisper to yourself, so low that only the passing breeze can hear it.

But still, you get the nagging impression that the breeze was in fact listening.

Following that, you proceed to have a regular day. You continue with your routine as if nothing happened.

Except that, every now and then, you try to take some liberties. You try to check for limits.

You walk down this and that hallway, just to make sure it really leads to another set of classrooms.

You take a look at the broom closets, and the unused lockers, and the less used corners of the parking lot, just to make sure there really is something there.

You ask about the rest of the city, and about your student's neighborhoods, and what busses exactly they take to go to their favorite cafes and arcades. And sure enough, they give you answers, but not really answers that are real.

And soon enough, you begin to put together a picture of what is going on.

Without exception, everything in this school is real. Every last room, corner and cranny, whether used or mostly abandoned, is a place you can go… without losing conscience or entering that strange sleepwalking state you experienced after leaving school.

But whenever you try to leave the school, things get… strange. You can walk up and down the sidewalk that surrounds the walls of the school. And you can visit some nearby buildings, such as the nearby middle school. And you even saw a bus passing by, although you weren't quick enough to read where it was supposed to go.

However, you have also come to learn that there are limits to this place.

So naturally, the next step… would be to explore those limits. The next step is to explore these horizons, and the paths that exist between them. Because you know, for example, that there are places in town your students frequent. But you also realize there are rules to this place that must be followed, which also means there are paths that must be taken to reach other places.

And you must learn them. You must learn more about how this all works.

Still, you are not discouraged. Not by the strangeness that you have come to see, and not by the apparent arbitrariness that you are being subjected to.

After all, you know certain tricks that the usual dreamer does not.

You just have to find the time to do it.



- - -



"Miss Sparkle? See me after class," you say, without looking up from the last few worksheets you just collected.

A small wave of whispers begins to bubble throughout class, right in front of you, but you make a point of ignoring it. In fact, you take this opportunity to quietly observe who is doing what.

Because you just had your students go through a small mock exam. Nothing graded, and since you told them in advance about it this was not a surprise either. Still, you just wrung your students a little bit with an hour-long examination, so you are sure their young minds are a little more stressed-out than usual.

So, given how you just loudly singled-out a single student less than a minute before the class rings, now is the perfect time for your slightly-stressed students to show you who they really are.

You don't look up, but you don't really need to. Your peripheral vision and other senses are more then enough for this.

Which means you can perfectly see who is doing what. You can tell who is just whispering, which students are just curious, and which of them are letting out malicious snickers at the idea of a particular student being in trouble.

However, the most interesting thing is what you don't see.

You don't see any students sending worried or supporting glances towards her. You don't see any students sending an encouraging whisper towards her, or maybe even leaning in to ask why this is happening. You don't see anyone acting in a way that you could remotely describe as friendly.

Of course, you won't take this as a definitive answer to your questions. After all, there is the possibility that she has peers in other classes, and then there is also the fact she probably has an older brother in this world as well.

But still, the first, second and third impression you have, and that you have been observing throughout this entire week, is that…

The Twilight Sparkle of this world does not have any friends.

And the young woman's reaction to your words, the way she looked slightly distressed and disappointed, but without looking around for support from her surrounding fellows, only corroborates that view.

Moments later, the bell rings, your students file out of the classroom, and you send a warm smile to the students who are waving you goodbye at the exact moment you know Rarity is looking longingly towards you.

Until you are finally alone with the student you asked to wait with you.

You watch, as the last student closes the door after he leaves, and then you look at Twilight as she stares back at you.

You don't really do anything for the next few seconds. You just look at her, wondering how she will react. Her expression is only slightly serious, but you can detect the hint of concern that she is trying to hide, which is slowly turning into nervousness. But even that already tells you a lot.

"Is there something… wrong, Professor?" she asks, and you can hear how she is struggling to keep her voice from trembling.

But you only answer her by looking at her, and then looking at the place in front of your desk, and then nodding as if this should all be very obvious.

"Oh, right, I apologize," she says, immediately getting up from her desk and making her way to stand in front of you.

Good, so she isn't completely clueless about social norms. In fact, you are sure she has quite a deep understanding of them, even if only from a theoretical perspective.

But still, she is no longer a part of a classroom who is addressing a professor. She is an individual student who is in a meeting. So, she should act accordingly.

Or at least, this is what you think is going through her head right now. You don't really care about that right now. Instead, you well and truly are doing all of this just to see how she reacts.

Well, you want to see how she reacts, you want to see how similar and different she is from the Twilight of the real world, and you also want to confirm if any of the events from the real world bled over to this one.

However, you are also hoping to see if…

"Miss Twilight Sparkle," you say, "thank you for your time, and I won't keep you for long."

To which she replies with a nervous nod. You can tell that she is not nervous because she is speaking to a Professor. After all, this is probably the kind of interaction she enjoys the most. However, she is nervous from the level of individual attention she is receiving.

Interesting…

"Now, just to be clear, nothing wrong has happened. You didn't do anything wrong, and I'm not looking to scold you or anything. Quite on the contrary, even."

Another nervous nod. But the hands that were clenched into fists seem to have relaxed a little bit.

"So, first of all, did you know you are one of my best students?" you ask. "And I don't just mean for this class. You are one of the best students I ever had the pleasure of teaching."

You really are telling the truth right now. Because from what you could gleam from your memory, Twilight really is the kind of student who is easy to teach. You can't recall any silly questions from her, she always submits her assignments on time, and correcting her exams feel more like "double checking to make sure, before giving it a 100" rather than really grading a paper.

"You participate, you ask interesting questions, and every time you do something I can tell that you really put some thought into it, and not that you are just copying something you read from a book."

You say all of that, with the softest smile and the smoothest of voices, both because you want her to be at ease and because it is true.

However, to your surprise…

"I… thank you…?"

To your surprise, Twilight actually tenses up a little more as you say all that.

You can only watch as her hands ball up into fists again, and her jaw clenches slightly, and as every little hint you can see from her body language makes it look like she is trying to curl up.

And you can only suppress the urge to raise an eyebrow at that. Because despite your original intentions, it seems you are making her uncomfortable.

Is it because she is just too young, and you are a figure of authority? Is it because the subject of her academic life is just something that she doesn't like to talk about? Is it something else?

Unfortunately, you have too little to work with. And neither your memories of her, or the student files you have access to, are enough to give you any idea of why this is happening. In fact, you are acutely aware that this is the first time you are interacting with her in this world, and you can confidently tell that you are in for a bad start.

Still, there is nothing you can do but move forward.

"No need to thank me, it's just the plain truth," you say, pretending you can't see the fact that she is pursing her lips, and that her breathing just became a little heavier. "But I called you here to ask… have you put any thoughts into your future? Do you have any hopes or ambitions on your sights? Maybe a specific college you would like to go to, or a particular career path?"

You say that, you try to give her the usual talk of a Professor who is interested in helping a bright young pupil, but…

… well, there is no other way to put it. It goes downhill from there.

The young woman gives you vague answers, and then she glances too many times at the closed door, and at some point you swear she is actually sweating out of nervousness.

So, you decide to cut your losses and let her go.

"Thank you, Miss Sparkle. Have a great day," you say.

And she practically runs for the door in response.







However…

However.

You aren't exactly ready to call it quits.

Because you swear that, despite her nervousness and anxiety, you saw something in her that gave you pause.

So, you… keep an eye on her.

You make sure to track her, as she goes about her day. Following what classes she has, sensing that she apparently sits alone during lunch, and generally keeping track of her as the afternoon reaches its end.

Until the final bell rings, and you realize that she is not making her way to the exit even though school is over.

So, you dismiss your last class for the day, you weave your way through the throng of teenagers as they make their way out.

And inevitably, you find her.

Twilight Sparkle is, right now, on the topmost floor of school. The one where the extracurricular activities take the place, and where the unused classrooms can be put to good use by students who wish to do this and that for extra credits.

You are not at all surprised when you see that Twilight's scent is coming from a door with the sign of "science club" attached to it.

But you are a little surprised to see that the door is locked.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. Students aren't supposed to lock themselves in. In fact, these doors don't even have built-in locks, and need an external key to be locked. And students definitely should not have access to those!

After all, what if they get hurt and no one is around to help them?

No no no, this Simply will not do. It is your duty, your very responsibility to check if the student trapped behind this locked door is safe!

With all of that in mind, you give the door a quick tap, and you make your way in.

However, something curious happens. Because the moment you tapped the door open-



-beeeeeeeeeeep!-



-you swear you hear something, a long and high-pitched noise, coming from somewhere inside that classroom.

Still, you make your way in, and you are met with quite the sight.

"Interesting. Did any of this come from a club budget?" you say out loud.

Because as soon as you enter the room, you don't see Twilight herself. Instead, you see something that you can only describe as a workshop.

You see tools, and books, and metallic contraptions you can only describe as gadgets in several stages of disassembly. You don't see anything you immediately recognize, and this only vaguely resembles what a proper pony laboratory would look like. But still, you can definitely say that this is at least a workshop.

And moments later, you see a wide-eyed and surprised Twilight Sparkle. You watch as she steps out of a storage room door, at the very end of the class, looks at you, and immediately pushes her back against the now-closed door behind her.

"Professor Covers?!" she says. Yells, really. As she presses her back against the door behind her and protectively tries to hide her with her arms.

For a moment, you almost tell her a lie. For a moment, you almost tell her some smooth story about a janitor who was going around asking for a key after he found some locked door.

But for some reason, you don't think that will work. No, it's not that. For some reason, you don't think any of that will be necessary.

Flattering Twilight doesn't seem to work. And even having a normal conversation seems to be enough for her to get nervous.

Maybe this is because she was not truly mentored by a Princess Celestia in this world? Maybe it is because, as hard as that might sound, she is even more of a loner here than she is in the real world? Or maybe it's something else entirely, and this young woman is just different from the young mare you met?

Well, it doesn't really matter.

What matters is that you think you should go straight to the point.

So that's exactly what you are going to do.

"Quite the setup you have here, Miss Sparkle", you say, as you walk around the room. Picking up a few gadgets here and there, and letting your fingers analyze whatever they can during that short period of time. "Are you doing all of this on your own?"

You consider or a moment asking her if this was authorized by the school. You consider hinting that this sort of activity, done behind locked doors and clearly beyond the level of a high schooler, might be the kind of thing that gets her in trouble.

But again, these kinds of things aren't really effective on her. Or perhaps they would be too effective, and she would just have a breakdown right in front of you. Still, again, this is not the path you should take.

"I-I… y-… I mean…" she tries to say something, but fails. Instead, she can only follow you with her eyes as you tour around the room and slowly make your way towards her.

Her legs are shaking. More than just that, she is really scared.

Dear heavens, what is up with this world's Twilight? You have already met Jade Whistles, and you have already seen Soft Sweeps. But the way this young woman is acting is... well, worrying.

"But I can tell these are all works in progress," you say, as you pick up yet another curious little device made out of metal and glass.

And then, you are finally face to face with her, right in front of the young woman.

"So, can you tell me what you are really working on?" you ask.

To which she replies by swallowing down something dry, the words dying inside her mouth before she ever has the chance to speak them.

Still, even as you look into her eyes, you can't really understand why she is so…

Is she afraid because a Professor, a figure of authority, just found out about something that is not allowed?

Is she scared because she is face to face with another human, who is giving her way more attention than she is comfortable with receiving?

Or is it… or is it because of what you are looking at? Because you just walked into a high school student who, for all intents and purposes, is acting like a scientist?

Wait, hold on… you roll that last thought on your head for a few moments and…

Could… could it actually be that? But that doesn't make any sense. If a young woman like her is interested in this kind of thing, why would there be anything wrong with that? In fact, it should only be natural for her to pursue it like this, no? After all, a single glance at her flank would make it clear that her cutie mark is-



Oh.

Oooohhhh.

You forgot about that.

There are no cutie marks in this world. There is no indication, and perhaps even no drive, for a person to pursue what they are meant to be doing with their lives.

And considering how cruel children can be, and how everywhere you looked you could see groups and cliques and social hierarchies, you can only imagine how a person like Twilight Sparkle would…

Ah. You might be totally wrong about it, but you think you understand what is going on a little better.

"Miss Sparkle, do you realize you are blocking the path of a Professor?" you say. "Or do you just not realize you are blocking my path?"

You say that, and her legs almost buckle under her as she holds your gaze.

Still, she holds her ground, even if only for a second longer, as she adamantly refuses to let you see what she is hiding in that storage room.

"I-I can't… c-can't let you see t-that, Professor," she says, stammering under your soft gaze.

To which you answer with a small, short nod. Shrugging as if to say there was no helping it.

However, you think you already have your answer. Because as you toured around the room, touching and learning about all the devices that are laid out on the desks, you have come to notice a similarity they all share.

All those devices have some level of portability to them, as if they are an attempt to miniaturize something. All of them have antennas, or some kind of detector. And all of them had some kind of display.

And given what happened when you unlocked this door, you have an inkling that…

"Well, you might not want to show it to me, and I respect that," you say, as you make your way towards the door. "But why don't we check if it really works?"

With that, you reach the door of the classroom, keeping an eye on the frantically nervous Twilight as you do. Putting your pinky finger inside the keyhole right after.

And then, you twist your finger as if it was a key-



-BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!-



-locking the door right in front of her eyes, at the same time that high-pitched noise begins to blare from the door behind Twilight.

And just like that, Twilight's apprehension is gone.

No, it's not gone, not exactly. She just forgot about it, instantly. Her legs are no longer shaking, her eyes are no longer filled with fear and anxiety, and the only thing you can see in her expression now is disbelief.

Disbelief, and the unmistakable glint of curiosity.

You make a point of taking your finger out of the keyhole, and trying to turn the doorknob just to show her that it is really locked.

And then, you give the door another light knock and-



-BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!-



-you lock it again.

"So it IS a detector," you say with a smile on her face.

"It is… it's a proto-… I mean, I didn't have proof th-…" she says, with a tone that makes it clear she isn't even thinking about it. That her mind is too overwhelmed by other thoughts for her to realize what she is saying. "How… how did you do that?"

And, as scientists like her are wont to do, she finishes off by asking what really matters in her heart of hearts.

But the only answer you give her is a knowing smile.

Because you think you understand her a little better now. There is certainly more to her than just this, but you think you get it.

Twilight Sparkle is researching… magic. Magic, or maybe the lores, or perhaps something that she just couldn't find the explanation for anywhere else in this world.

After all, there is no magic in this world. It looks like humans just don't know about it, as far as you can tell.

The humans of this dream-like world are not stupid. They aren't exactly what you would call primitive. And you have seen their gadgets, and their culture, and the intricate microscopic clockwork that they seem to use for everything. But still, from what you can tell, they appear to be completely blind to the entire facet of science that is known as magic.

Maybe it is because they don't have horns or wings. Or maybe it is because, in this place, the sun and moon, and nature as a whole, move on their own. Whatever the reason may be, these humans don't seem to understand what the basest of magic is, and they seem to be missing out on an entire aspect of how their bodies and their world works.

Here, those kinds of things are seen as fairy tales. And the people who believe in them must be either ignored or ridiculed.

And Twilight seems to be… interested in it. She is interested in it, or maybe she knows about it, or perhaps her affinity to it so strong that she wants to pursue if, even if she doesn't have a cutie mark to remind her about it.

To the point that she is trying to research it in the only way she knows, with the bootleg and incomplete science of this world.

Even though it is something that she can't tell anyone else about. Even though it is something she can't even prove exists.

Even though it is something that would make anyone think she is insane, if she were to ever talk about it.

But oh, you know something no one else in this world has, and you have something no one else in this world could ever give her.

You know she is right, and you can present her with proof.

"How did you do that?!" she repeats. Not caring that she is a student who just yelled at a professor. Not caring that she has just been discovered.

Because perhaps for the first time in her life, she has just seen evidence that she is not crazy. That she was right all along.

But the only answer you give her is…

"Have a pleasant evening, Miss Sparkle."

And before she can say anything else, you are gone.

You leave immediately, because you have a lot to think about. You leave immediately because, in truth, a sudden thought quite literally rushed into your head, the moment you realized all of that.

Because it seems that this world's Twilight is… lost? Alone? Hopeless? You aren't sure what word to use. But the fact remains that her connection to magic is so strong, even in this world, that she can't help but pursue it.

Even though there is no magic waiting for her in this world. Even though you can already tell that there is nothing but disappointment, and perhaps even failure, waiting for her in the future. This fascination she has, you know, will either grow into an obsession, or will die down into a bitter disappointment.

There is nothing for this world, for the young and hopeful woman known as Twilight Sparkle.

But that's the thing. That is why you… quite literally ran away from her. That is why you left the room as soon as this thought occurred to you.

Because this is, you know, a very dangerous thought. However, it is also not one you could immediately dispel.

Because what if… what if somehow…

What if you brought this Twilight to your world?

Wouldn't she be so much happier there? Wouldn't her life finally make sense?

Wouldn't you be saving her?



You rush down the stairs, and towards the exit of the school. Until your memories fade away into the fog of sleepwalking.



- - -



You searched, and you saw, and you were seen. You looked around, high and low, for something that might help you.

You checked the library for references of the symbol on your pendant. You looked for it in the accessories and clothes of your other students. You even consulted you fellow faculty members, those knowledgeable about history and the older civilizations, about it.

You searched, and you searched, and you searched.

And for several days, or perhaps even a week, you couldn't find anything that even remotely resembled your mark.

That is, until you found a clue.

Or perhaps, a clue found you?

It is hard to tell, with these sorts of things.

Still, one day you were walking around the school grounds, right after classes were over, and your curiosity eventually led you to the neighboring middle school.

Maybe you were curious if you would find Cheerilee. Maybe you were hoping to glance at your daughter's schoolmates, even though she doesn't exist in this sad little world. Or perhaps you just wanted to see what foals looked like in this simian dream.

So, you went to the nearby middle school, and you let your face melt into a smile as you watched the crowd of short little humans cheering as they ran towards their end-of-day freedom.

Children filed out of school, children filed into school buses, children waited for their parents.

Until your contentment is interrupted by the sensation of someone pulling on your dress. And for a moment, as you look to your side, you almost expect to see your own Silky Stream there, about to give you a hug.

But you are immediately snapped out of those thoughts as you see…

"Excuse me Miss? Where… where did you get that medallion?"

… you see a little girl, maybe half your height and certainly on the lower part of the age range of the neighboring middle school.

You see a little girl, pulling at your skirt, with her eyes unerringly aimed at the medallion you have fixed to your hair.

You see a little girl who is looking at your medallion with curiosity, and also with familiarity.

"It belongs to a… friend of mine," you say, kneeling down so you will be on her level, and so she can take a better look at it as you unpin it from your hair and show it to her. "She told me that she has… friends, who also have something like this. But tell me, have you ever seen this symbol before?" you ask.

And the little girl, with the shy hesitance of a child who isn't really sure if you are a stranger or a friend, gives you a meek nod.

But before you can say anything else, someone calls for her. One of her teachers, you can tell, who is trying to herd her ward into one of the waiting school buses.

And the girl hesitates for a few seconds, looking at the bus and then back at the medallion, not really sure of what to do.

"I am a teacher here at Canterlot High," you say, pointing at the building next door, "so I'm sure we will meet again. But if you don't mind, I would love if you could tell me more about this later," you say.

And then, you take a leap of faith.

Instead of putting the medallion back on your hair, you instead give it to the little girl.

"Whenever you can," you say, putting it on her hand and closing it with your own, "my friend would very much appreciate it."

She answers you with another nod, and moments later she is gone.

Leaving you alone on the sidewalk, watching as the last few students leave for their own homes.





[Dice rolls have been omitted]

[You have consumed your Moth reroll]

[You have consumed your Secret Histories reroll]

Author's note: you will not be given any partial "reports" on progress, or any sort of explanatory "blurb" at the end of these updates, like you would usually see on a regular update. This is a strange world, so all you can do is navigate it to the best of your abilities.



And just like that, now you have less time than you had before.



PERSONAL ACTION POINTS REMAINING: 3


You have made time in the real world, so you will have time here. What shall you do with it?


You will return home, back through the foggy mirror.

[] Return home. (Return home and redistribute all your personal action points)


You will stay a while and… (Costs one personal action point. Pick THREE options)

[] Alright, WHERE is Stormchaser? (Look for your dear beloved)
[] They are young and impressionable. Thankfully, you are a responsible adult. (Hang out with Rarity and Fluttershy, your real-life confidantes)
[] "Miss Sparkle? It's about the project we discussed. I have a... proposal, on how to advance it. Could you see me after class?" (Follow up on Twilight Sparkle)
[] "Is there anything on your mind, Miss Jack?" (Approach Applejack)
[] "To be honest? I think your job is better than mine." (Approach Cheerilee. She is here… somewhere)
[] "Yes, it's about your daughter. What class I teach her? Well…" (Approach the Rich parents)
[] Apparently, they are not alicorns here. But they are still the highest authority. (Approach the Principals)
[] You have found limits, you have found walls. Now it is time to look for doors and tunnels. (Follow up on exploring this place)
[] This place has a library. Go take a look.
[] What is this "cellphone" all the kids are talking about? Why do you have one? And what is this "Internet" thing?
[] Your faith has been rewarded. And the medallion has made its way back to you, on a very unexpected pair of hands. (Further your search for Axe's… contact)



Six hours moratorium.

Vote by approval, and pick however many options you want..

"Return home" will only win if it is the FIRST place in votes. Otherwise, the three activities with the most votes will win.
 
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In which there is a hole New
Well. Call me selfish and foolish and dumb, but I had thoughts from this.
Thoughts on the nature of this space, on the consequences of this space, on the result that created and ran with it and so on...
I am curious. And hungry. And as is my want, I wrote about it.


In which There is a Hole



Normally it's easy to find where pieces fall.

You pick a piece up, you drop it, and there it is. You pick a path, weave that option in, and it is clearly attached. You grab the threads, shake them a bit, pick what one is laying on top, and it naturally is there.
Everything functions like that. Everything has functioned like that. All things that are are things that were, are, and have been.

You are... well, that's not really important at this juncture. Everyone has the same question, even if not the same focus.


Where did she go?


You can see her, obviously.
In the grand tapestry of the moment, it's very clear and very obvious. There to the left is the past. The grand illuminated strands of everything that has been, both real and imagined. All layered in on top of itself in a beautiful dimensioned portrait. Words as much as images as much as ideas flowing together to create a beautiful world that you could spin your hand, and visit any point that has been. Even with the cuts. The patches. And even now, a vast majority of it is swathed in darkness and uncertainty.

To the right, the unknowable options that might be. Every thread that could be presented as tools, as options. Every path those might take and lead, how they connect to innumerable threads both past and future, and where they all hinge. All the threads, all the words, all the potentialities that are, knowable and unknowable, are displayed there. An endless array of cobwebs of what might be. Normally it's difficult if not impossible to pluck one of those threads out before it arrives. But as of now...

Right in front of you, is the present. The exact moment every one of those potential paths become known histories. And there, she is. As always.

But she isn't.


There is a hole.
A hole she is in.



There had been discussion of what it would be beforehand. Whether it would be a trial, or an adventure, or a journey, or an impossible task. Dozens and dozens of possibilities that were what it could have been. One or two even guessed something like this. But a hole...

The threads continued on. Feeding, funneling on into the hole the same as before. Choices were argued over, calls made. Words had and decried the paths picked, mourning for the options that were left astray. And it all funneled back in. What needed be done was the same as it ever had been. But why...


But where is she? Where did she go?


It was a simple enough question to answer. There, obviously. But that's not what was asked.
She had flown to a place more distant than tomorrow's horizons. But she wasn't in the future. You'd be able to see that, it would be obvious. There would be a break from the past to the present, there would be speckling in the threads that were to become the future. There would be signs if this were the case.
In the same way, this wasn't simply another history. It wasn't a layer of backing on the canvas of the past, nor a pressing space that bubbled up in the shown thread that was the visible past. It didn't fit that way, and there were too many things that it wasn't and didn't to make that true. Not the least of which being, who helped bring her there.

So where did she go? What is this place?


The obvious answer... was a hole.
A space cut away to touch upon the fundamental backing that was true. But it wasn't just that. It was...
Murky. It was distorted. It was things that were true no matter how you looked at it, yes, but it wasn't... just that. It was full of things that weren't true, no matter how you looked at it.

A hole through the present. One that wasn't truth, nor was it wrong. And it wasn't attached, but was made of things that had been attatched.


Maybe.



The obvious question came to mind. Did that matter though? Did it matter where, or when, or what it was?
Of course! But... did it really?

Maybe. Too many unknowns flitted around it. But maybe it did. Maybe... it was real. Maybe it was something that was true. Maybe.

In the end, however, it did matter. Not because knowing the truth of it mattered... but because how people would react to the truth.
The simplest question was why it mattered.


Do the actions here have consequences?


Here? In the Hole? Of course! Directly.
Outside? That... was a bit tricky. And that's what people wanted to know. The question that was fought about... even if that wasn't what was fought about. The truth behind words unsaid.

If things here changed the world outside.

If it did, there was weight. There was consequence. There was chances to do the impossible outside that were possible here. It excited people. Thrilled them. Terrified some. And frustrated others.
If it didn't, then what was the consequence? Take what need be, claim what was wanted, take what was needed, grasp what power could be and run.

If it mattered, it mattered. If it didn't, it didn't. But no one knew which was true.





But maybe.
Just maybe.
That's... not quite how it works.

Things here don't reflect, that much is obvious. There is space that is real, and space that isn't. Space filled with ideas and space filled with things.

And that's where the idea started. Where the question grew.
What if it wasn't a hole? Or maybe it wasn't always a hole.

There were threads in the hole. Words that seemed to echo, parts of the world that echoed in different ways. In different words. The world there... it had space that was real. Space that reflected things that were true through a murky lens. But... But the lens wasn't murky? Or maybe it was murky, but that is not why the rest of it was what it was. Because there... the world was two made of two things.

Real things. And Context.

Context didn't exist. It wasn't real. It was made of the stuff of dreams and nightmares and was nothing more than-
A Hole.


It was a hole. It was a hole full of holes. But the holes didn't matter. The holes just proved that something burrowed through them. Something made this not space. That this was




KNOCK




... an idea.

What if this place hadn't existed once? True of all places yes, but in the context of this... time. This history. This potential histories. In the lot of it.
What if this hole... was a hole?

A space. An idea that had been so burnt. So cut away. So embodied by




KNOCK




that the ideas of it still corroded? That the reflection that it was was still reflecting truth because Reflections show Truth. And when it tried to reflect upon the holes it had to reflect back truth, but you can't see a hole. All you can see is Context.
But Mirrors had to reflect. They had to be true. But there were holes.
And on a mirror, that's fog. That's cloudy. That's murky. Inside, that's




KNOCK




which was already true! And the things inside that she was looking for were-! They would be able to do that. They would be-! So of course actions would have consequence! Of course it would reflect back, because it was the reflections which was being touched!
But how? How to prove this wasn't simply an idea, and might be true? How to look for the evidence that said it might be? What could be...

A reflection. True. Undeniable. And one that was absent.



So you formed a question. Asked a damnation. One that would lead to the right questions. Form the right ideas. Align the right notions.

"I wonder if Spike is dead here too."
 
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