Equestrian Gods

by Nik

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Romance, Tragedy, Adventure, Sad
Length: 8627

In the beginning there was nothing. A story about the Gods of Equestria.

I intend for this to be a fairly long and hopefully epic story detailing the growth of Discord and Celestia in particular, but also the remaining equestrian pantheon. How did they come to be, what experiences turned them into the Gods they are today, what are the elements of harmony, and where did they come from? What came before Celestia, and how old is Discord really? My quest is to create an equestrian bible of sorts, but with more action, and less preaching. Enjoy.

As the story progresses there will be both thematic sexual references and thematic violence, but it will not be graphic in nature, and hopefully nopony will find it objectionable.

The cover image does not belong to me, it belongs to cheerubi (http://cheerubi.deviantart.com/) Give cheerubi your love if you like it.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-03 17:33:57 UTC

Prologue

Equestrian Gods: Prologue

Something was pushing. Darkness would come later, what was now was something less, something not quite as tangible. Pushing? No a different concept was needed for what was happening. Escaping. It screamed and began to tear away at the intangibility. It needed a shape... it needed a form... it needed...

-

There was a bird on the marble windowsill, stretching its wings and ruffling its feathers, waking up. It chirped experimentally, testing its voice, and, satisfied with it's steadiness, began to sing. The morning song tripped daintily through the nursery, bouncing lithely off the myriad of toys that were strewn about the floor, making it's way to a large and sturdy crib. The crib in question was a light hickory affair, draped in fabric every shade of soft pink imaginable, and when the soft tunes finally made their way past the translucent canopy they were immediately joined by a gleeful giggle.

Inside the crib the smallest of filly foals lay swaddled in linen so brightly white it would have put the sun to shame. She giggled and laughed as best she could around the hoof she was sucking on, all the while observing the breeze through the artificial canopy with saucer-sized orbs of pure curiosity. Around the little filly there was peace, and the very fabric of reality seemed soothed by her presence.

The bird did not know, after all, it was just a bird, but that very morning it had awoken a deity to her very first day in Equestria. Had this feat been carried out by one of the many talented court musicians who called the royal palace their home it would have been written down in the annals of time. That musician would surely have been counted as one of the greats throughout musical history, lauded with praise for generations to come. Instead there was only a bird, oblivious to the momentous occasion, oblivious to the new-born princess. Celestia giggled.

-

The nursemares were all lined up in a row, haunches against the wall, staring glumly at the floor. The nurse herself was staring brimstone and fire at every last one of them, marching back and forth, determination and anger fuelling her every step.

“This is a disgrace, neigh, a crime!” the white pony brayed. Her ruby red mane, normally coiffed to perfection, hung out from underneath her nurses hat in total disarray, and her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, tell tale signs that she had just recently been caught up in the full throes of a sobbing fit. If any of the nursemares had held any illusions about their future job security those illusions had just been dispelled. They were all going to be fired, every last one of them.

“What is this?” the nurse continued, doing an admirable job of bringing her emotions under control. She gestured to a very small, strangely bird shaped radio occupying the floor immediately before her. It was an odd little device. The two knobs on the front were much too small for even the tiniest of hands to operate, and certainly too small for a pony to even dream of using. In fact, the nurse was fairly certain that if any hoof tried to use it the minuscule radio would be left in splinters.

A pleasantly mauve pegasus with vanilla for hair cleared her throat quietly. Her fellow nursemares stared at her with awe and new-found respect. One of them even checked to see if the pegasus' cutie mark had changed to reflect her heroic bravery. She was disappointed.

“It... well it  looks... sort of... like a radio,” by the time she had finished speaking she had been reduced to whispering and was now cowering beneath her forelegs, glancing timidly up at the towering shadow above her that was the head nurse. For a moment the nursemares felt all was lost, but again, with a truly herculean effort, the nurse kept her emotions in check.

“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, “it is indeed a radio. What I am wondering,” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly before continuing, “is why this radio was found on the windowsill of the nursery?” Every word felt like a hammer coming down hard on defenceless nails, nails that looked a lot like the nursemares, and not a one of them had an answer to the question, or as they all saw it, the accusation. They looked over at the mauve pegasus, half expecting a repeat, but her last act of chivalry had left her in shambles, and any relief from that source seemed increasingly unlikely.

After staring through the soul of each of her nursemares in turn the head nurse finally gave up. Resigning herself to the inevitable fallout of the situation she made a mental note to seek professional help with resume building that evening, she was going to need it.

“Very well,” she said, “there will be a full scale investigation carried out by the royal guard into each of our living quarters. The investigation will be exceedingly thorough, and I am quite confident that they will be able to find out not just who our culprit is, but also how somepony was able to gain unauthorized entry into the nursery. Although why somepony would be dumb enough to leave evidence behind is beyond me.” The last she mumbled under her breath. She could feel a headache creeping slowly up the base of her neck, and she was afraid only copious abuse of tea would have any success at banishing it. “Lastly, should any of you recall later some piece of information currently eluding you that would be of assistance feel free to let either the guards or myself know. It would be extremely appreciated.”

She dismissed the nursemares with a wave of her hoof and watched them slink away like wounded dogs. Suspicion was eating away at her, but she was far too old and far to experienced to let it get in the way of what was truly important. She gingerly picked the radio up with her teeth and set off on her quest for that steaming cup of tea.

Chapter I: A Job

Equestrian Gods: Chapter I

It was raining that day, hard. The streets were devoid of life, and the cobblestones took the abuse without protest. All around the city buildings towered, dark windows silently judging a solitary pony who was bravely, and excruciatingly slowly, forcing his way through the storm, and down the street.

The colt appeared less to be walking than stubbornly refusing to drown. He had a thick red scarf wrapped around his neck but it served as meagre relief from the bitterly unforgiving wind and icy downpour, and he was forced to walk with his head down, eyes squinted in the cause of self-perseverance. On any other day the colt would have been a stunning chestnut pinto, easily spotted in any crowd. He was technically a frame overo, something he frequently, and proudly, let others know at any social gathering. Today, however, the rain had rendered him the same indistinguishable grey as the clouds above, and were it not for the scarf he very much doubted anypony would be able to spot him there in the street.

He gritted his teeth and pressed on. There was a job interview to be had, and he would sooner see himself dead by pneumonia than show up late for such an important engagement. Royalty was waiting for him, and at least twenty other ponies just as eager for the job, and he sure as hay was not going to let some measly storm get between himself and such a glorious opportunity.

Reluctantly he had to admit that it was less about the glamour of the job, and more about the fact that this was his last chance, a few more days would see him out on the street permanently, homeless, and without a penny to his name. It was a sobering thought, and added much needed fuel to his aching legs.

No less than twenty minutes later he finally arrived at the gates to the royal palace. The entry point for civilian guests was a modest sight. A small gate, and and equally small guard's shack right next to it. A surly looking white pegasus, adorned from head to hoof in shining armour, was tucked inside, doing his best to avoid the ghastly weather. Although the guard obviously did not work for the weather patrol the pinto colt felt a slight pang of anger at his appearance. He was more than willing to lay the blame for this weather on any pegasus' shoulders, such was his mood.

“I have a job interview at the palace,” he said instead. He had to speak up for his voice to carry through the storm. It was a clear and refined voice, and he very much liked the sound of it himself. The guard stared intently at a clipboard hanging on the wall of the shack.

“Name?” he asked without looking up. The pinto shook his head at the guard's general lack of manners.

“Just Dr. Teach is fine,” he sighed.

“Uh-uh,” grunted the guard uninterestedly, “sure, whatever Doc.” After a few more seconds the guard looked up from the clipboard at Teach with a quizzical look in his eyes.  “Uhm, there's a Dr. Teach here on the list, but I think they might have gotten your first name misspelled.” Teach rubbed his temple with his hoof. He was cold, tired, and he could feel the headache lurking. He did not want to have to deal with this.

“Just, it's a nickname okay, can I just go inside. It's wet out here,” he said. The guard shot him another quizzical look, then shrugged.

“Sure thing, just through here. We'll have somepony guide you to where the interviews are at.” The guard exited the shack and hurriedly pulled the gate open for Teach, trying to stay dry as much as possible. Teach trotted through and saw a young unicorn mare under a magically levitated umbrella waiting for him. The umbrella made little sense to Teach, as the rain was falling almost horizontally, and the strawberry mare was already soaked to the bone. He smiled absent-mindedly, she was cute. Her mane was cream, with just a hint of pink, which offset her coat quite nicely. She had a stack of books for a cutie mark, and a pair of baby blue eyes that looked at him expectantly over a set of black spectacles.

“Are you G...” she began, flipping through a clipboard similar to the one the guard had scrutinized in the shack. Teach hurriedly interrupted her.

“Yes, I'm Dr. Teach, would you please lead the way.” He tried to put on his best smile without letting his frustration show. He should not have let the Equestrian Magical Institute write his application for him. He was definitely going to have to have a word with the board later. The mare raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze travelling to his forehead, where, despite his thick bangs, the lack of a horn was obviously apparent.

“And you are here for the... the teaching position?” she asked hesitantly. Again Teach forced himself to smile, the mare's lack of interest in bringing the two of them inside and away from the rain was beginning to get on his nerves.

“My name isn't Teach for nothing,” he said cheerily, raising his head in a mock pose of confidence.

“If you say so,” the mare responded. “Very well, follow me.” Teach silently mouthed a thanks towards the sky as the strawberry mare led them through a large set of doors into a candlelit hallway.

“Ehm, so do you have a name?” he said by way of making small talk. The mare looked over her shoulder at him with an unreadable expression.

“Firefly,” she said curtly. Teach raised an eyebrow in surprise. That had nothing to do with her cutie mark, her colour, or her glasses, and she certainly could not fly. Although thinking about it it seemed just as likely that it wouldn't. Her parents, like most, had probably name her before she was born. He lost himself in thought, wondering why it seemed that names and ponies almost always seemed to work out somehow. He shouldn't really be that surprised though, his own name had nothing to do with any of his own worldly features.

They walked along, mostly in quiet, Firefly answering the occasional question from Teach about the castle. It seemed as if she had been working at the castle for a long time. An oddity he thought, considering her apparently young age. Eventually they reached a large wooden door with a golden knocker shaped like a rooster holding a circle in its talons. Firefly used it to knock then stood back and waited. The door opened almost immediately, revealing, much to Teach's surprise, a short white dragon. It was still very young, only about as tall as Teach, with very small wings. From his limited experience with dragons he assumed that it was a she, which was confirmed when she opened her mouth to speak.

“You must be Teach then?” she asked with a surprisingly soft and sweet voice. Teach had been about to correct her for leaving off his title before a strange thought occurred to him.

“Wait a minute,” he said, looking from the dragon back at Firefly. “Both of you guessed right away that I'm Dr. Teach. There should be at least twenty other applicants, and none of us sent pictures of ourselves, how...?” He looked back to the dragoness who was smiling knowingly.

“All of the applicants are from the Equestrian Magical Institute, yes?” she said. Teach nodded. “Well we received a letter this morning,” she continued, pulling out a scroll wrapped in a blue ribbon from what seemed to be a pocket in her scales. “It's from the board of the school informing us that due to the storm none of the students would be arriving for the interview today, and requesting that the interviews be put off till a later date.” She laughed when she finished and saw the look on Teach's face. He felt like someone had just pulled a carpet out from under his hooves.

“Wha...” he started, meekly. The dragoness laughed again and lifted a hand reassuringly. He could see Firefly snickering in the corner of his eye.

“Don't worry,” the dragoness said. “The same letter also informed us that you had not written the board to ask for a change in interview time, and would therefore likely arrive as scheduled.” The thought had never even occurred to Teach. He could have avoided a most unfortunate afternoon of trudging through bone chilling winds and sickness inducing rain if he had just thought to ask. Instead here he was, looking like a complete foal in front of the very ponies he was trying to impress. He groaned and placed his face in his hoof.

“Very well,” he said, collecting himself. “I would assume then that the interview will proceed as planned?” The dragoness nodded at him, and then at Firefly, who nodded back and sauntered off, job done.

“My name is Incense, if you would follow me.” The dragoness motioned with her hand for him to follow her into the room. It was a rather small room, considering this was the palace. It was dimly lit, and decorated in shades of mostly dark cherry. The carpet was almost black it was so dark, but it felt soft and nice against his hooves. In the centre of the room was a massive cherry desk, not quite as dark as the carpet, but so well polished he could almost use it as a mirror. Incense took a seat behind it while Teach admired the many books that lined the wall.

She gestured to a seat in front of the desk, and Teach quickly took it, marvelling at how comfortable it was. Incense made a sharp contrast to the colours of the room, being a dull white from head to toe. The only reprieve from the colour disparity was her eyes, almost identical to the desk in shade. Teach silently hoped he would not have to look at her in this office for too long, it was making his headache worse.

Incense, who had been all smiles up till then, took on a far more serious look, and Teach thought he saw concern in her eyes.

“As much as I appreciate you braving this weather to come here I cannot help being extremely sceptical. You clearly know what the job is, but I don't see how you hope to preform it without...” She glanced at his forehead, and Teach smiled on the inside.

“Without a horn?” he finished for her.

“Well, yes,” she said. “I don't see how an earth pony such as yourself plan to teach anypony about magic. Frankly, and I don't mean to be rude, I don't see how you were able to get a doctorate in magic at all.” She looked at him, genuinely befuddled. He grinned at her. He loved this part.

“I assure you miss, I am as much an earth pony as you or Firefly.” He raised a hoof to his forehead and lifted his bangs to reveal a short and jagged stub where a horn would normally be. Incense's eyes went wide, and she quickly began to stammer an apology. Teach dismissed it with a wave of his hoof.

“Never you mind Incense,” Teach said, sure of himself. “Honest mistake. I assure you that although my horn has seen better days, it is every bit as functional as any Unicorn's.” Incense, having finally recovered from the shock of seeing a broken horn, smiled and nodded.

“Well, we'll see about that,” she said. “I am already half inclined to hire you, just from seeing how dedicated you are to getting this job.” She gestured to the letter from the school, which she had placed to the side on the desk. Although slightly embarrassed Teach allowed himself a small celebration.

“But...” Incense continued. Teach immediately stopped the internal celebration. “We have to make sure you can actually do the job.” She pulled a small folder from a drawer in the desk and placed it in front of herself, then flipped through it lazily for a second or two before looking up at Teach. “You come very highly recommended with regards to your ability to teach and present theory to others, so I am satisfied in that department. However, I need to see for myself the extent of your magical ability. There's a reason a dragon such as myself was chosen to conduct this interview.” There was a hint of mischievousness in her eyes when she smiled, and the meaning of her words slowly worked their way through Teach's brain.

He was going to have to perform magic... on a dragon. He swallowed and steeled himself. He could do this, she was far from adult yet, which meant that although she was magic resistant, she still had very far to go before she was immune. This was going to be tricky.

“Well then? What will you require that I do?” he asked, trying his best not to sound too nervous.

“Oh, just some simple exercises at first.” She wasn't joking, the exercises were simple. She had him juggle some colourful balls, move some objects of various weight around the room, turn a book into a small lizard and back again, she even had him teleport in and out of the room. The last one, although not a complex spell, required a lot of energy, and after he had done it he felt rather tired.

“Now lastly,” Incense said, and Teach's ears perked up. “I need you to lift me from my chair, hold me in the air for five seconds, the gently place me back down.” There was a strange emphasis on the word gently, and Teach suspected she had been dropped on her rear at least once or twice before. This was going to be brutally difficult. He was already worn out from the previous exercises, and he was beginning to suspect that had been their only purpose.

He clenched his jaw in determination and closed his eyes. He felt her out with a tendril of magic, and felt it immediately being pushed away. It was going to be like picking up water with oil. He thought for a moment about the best way to lift her before settling his mind and pumping out as much raw magic as he could. He wrapped her up as tightly as he could, having to continually reapply layers of magic as they simply slid off her scales, and then he heaved with all his might. There was a small yelp of surprise across the desk from him, and he opened one eye to observe his progress.

Incense was hovering three or so feet above the desk, apparently quite steadily. Teach knew better. He was frantically reapplying and retying layers and knots of magic to prevent the dragoness from taking a nasty fall into the desk. In his efforts to maintain the spell he had completely forgotten to count, and it was only when Incense politely cleared her throat that he realized she had been airborne for almost half a minute. With a grunt of effort and an apologetic smile he slowly reversed the spell in his mind, lowering the interviewer quite gently into her chair.

After giving herself a quick perusal to make sure she was non the worse for wear she shot the now panting Teach a comforting smile.

“Well, I think we can send a letter to the Institute to let them know we wont be conducting any more interviews,” she said. Teach began his internal celebration once more, and grinned at Incense. He conducted a quick prayer of gratitude to his own stupidity, if nor for it he would have done the sensible thing that morning. He was glad he had opted for the non-sensible thing. He made a mental note to send a letter to the weather patrol and thank them for the storm.

For the next half an hour or so Incense discussed the practical and logistical aspects of his new job with him. He would be moving into the castle the next week, and apparently there was a lot of paperwork and pony labour involved in such an undertaking. Teach barely listened, only nodding here and there at the more important things. On the inside he was far away, enjoying the warm happy feeling that was spreading throughout his body. Things were starting to look up, and it couldn't have happened at a better time.

Chapter II: Roadkill

Equestrian Gods: Chapter 2

The large igneous platform teetered precariously on the edge of a rather vast pool of lava. Not that it bothered him very much, he was peering down at the boiling inferno with large and curious eyes. One of the others had shown him this spot, and explained how heating and cooling affected the surface of the earth. As if he didn't already know, he scoffed at the notion. He may look small, but he was just as old as the others, they just didn't know. The last thought made him grin, there was a lot they didn't know. He took a certain perverse pleasure in keeping secrets.

Skinfaxi had spent several hundred years explaining rotational gravity to him. The only thing that had kept him awake through the lectures had been the nagging desire to correct the old cronies many mistakes. He had endured however, after all, the lecture had been fairly short.

Names he thought, scrunching up his face in disgust. Skinfaxi had obviously taken one, but very few of the others had, including himself. It seemed so... belittling, as if a name somehow lowered the value and importance of something. He would have none of that. He simply was, and that was good enough for him, and it should be good enough for the decrepit old gelding. It wasn't however. Skinfaxi never let a chance to suggest names slide by, and he had been particularly fond of a certain nickname for that last century or so. It made him feel like a pet. It was infuriating.

He grunted in disgust and turned away from the lava. As he walked away he flicked his wrist, causing the molten rock to fling itself violently into the air. He watched the ground with a smug sense of self accomplishment as trillions of prokaryotes were exterminated in the burning downpour. Hundreds of animal species that would never be flashed before his mind. He felt a slight pang of regret at the loss of a strange tentacle-faced monkey that would now never see the light of day. It had appeared interesting, and he was sure it would have proved at least a passing source of amusement in a couple of billion years.

He was about to jump up to the newly forming satellite hanging in the blackened skies above, but was interrupted by a familiar presence to his rear. He turned around with a sigh, rolling his eyes. In front of him sat a peculiar, well, thing he thought. It would be a stretch to call it a creature, but it communicated like a living thing, and was definitely self aware. He was going to have to get working on some more stringent definitions for living organisms.

The thing in question was dark, darker than just the absence of photons, like a hole in reality. It had a smile, but the smile never could seem to make up it's mind regarding its  level of tangibility, and sometimes it just up and disappeared. That was all. No limbs, no digits or extremities, no other defining features. It was slightly off-putting.

“Such a lovely day, is it not?” The thing spoke with a hollow echoing voice, as if the speaker in question was actually vary far away, speaking to him through a long metal tube.

“It's night time,” he answered, pointing to the slowly coalescing mass of rock in the sky. The thing distorted for a second, bending around itself. He was fairly certain it was looking up, but it was hard to tell.

“Well now, so it is,” the thing replied. “I did find it strange that Skinfaxi was not present. Does he not usually linger about during the daytime? I find it rather upsetting, really,” the thing said. “Does it not bother you that someone so... old follows you around all over the place. I do say, it could easily be presumed that he lacks faith in your ability to look after yourself.” The black thing was extremely annoying, and not for the first time did he wish for a way to be rid of it. Instead he calmed himself and asked what he always asked.

“Have you come to tell me what you are this time?” he very much doubted it, but the question needed asking, his curiosity was simply too overwhelming, and it was rare for him to not know or understand something.

“Well, no, I have not,” it replied. “You will of course excuse my rudeness, but it really should be rather self evident.” It was the same song and dance with the thing every time. If it was so self evident, he thought frustratedly, then he would have already figured it out. He could recite the formulas for creating sentient life backwards, in his sleep, yet this clearly intelligent hole eluded him.

He sighed in resigned frustration and turned to leave. The hole would only continue to grate his nerves otherwise, and he'd rather not deal with that.

“Wait,” the thing called out as he prepared to leave. “I did actually come her to tell you something I think you will find rather interesting.” He waited for the thing to continue, but did not turn to face it. “I overheard a conversation between Arvakr and the oily scaly one with the smoke and the fire.” He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. Until now he had not been aware that the hole was prone to espionage, or gossip for that matter. He turned back to face the thing as it kept talking. “It turns out they found another one.” The thing grinned, obviously satisfied with the look on his fellow's face. “Well now, I figured you would like that,” the black thing said, before disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

A new one. That was exciting, and the thought made the corner of his mouth twitch into a half formed smile. There hadn't been a new one since Arvakr, and he had been around for almost half a million years. Arvakr was probably the most boring thing on the entire planet, and the rest of the others weren't that far behind. Maybe this new one would be more like himself, or at least a little bit more interesting than Skinfaxi.

He turned back towards his intended destination just in time to catch a full blast of solar flare to the face. He giggled and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. The concentrated dose of radiation tickled around his ears, and he found it a very welcome distraction. He began to slowly climb, leaving the boiling crust of the planet behind. He could hardly wait to see what this new one was like.

-

The hallways of the palace were frustratingly dim, despite the many candles that lined their walls. The total lack of windows this far inside the building was a hard thing to compete with. Teach mumbled a few choice curse-words under his breath when he found himself face to face with the third dead end that morning.

Today was the first day of his new job. The weekend had been spent moving all of his personal affects from his tiny condo at the Equestrian Magical Institute to his equally tiny room in the southern wing of the palace. At first Incense had offered a much bigger room for him to stay in, but he felt uncomfortable with so much unused space, so he had requested a smaller one. Secretly Teach had also suspected he might get lonely with all that space and nopony else's things to fill it. He had conveniently failed to mention that particular line of reasoning to Incense.

Either way, if so far was an indication of things to come he feared it might take quite a while before he became comfortable moving about the palace grounds. He turned to trace his steps back and tripped over something wet and furry. The floor welcomed his muzzle with dreadful speed and force, and Teach though he heard something crunch in a sickening way. The immediate pain was intense, and he had to force his eyes shut to keep from crying. It quickly subsided into a dull pulsing sensation however, and he was able to regain enough of his composure to stand and look back at what had felled him.

Except there was nothing there. He looked down at his foreleg, which was still covered in a thin layer of water, evidence that the wet furry sensation he had felt before falling had been real. He shook his head, slightly confused, but decided to focus on more important things. He rubbed his muzzle with a hoof and inspected it for blood. It was clean, the inside of his mouth was a different story. He could taste the iron vividly, and after prodding about with his tongue for a second or two he found a tooth that felt loose.

Teach sighed and resumed the backwards journey to his quarters, hoping to find an acquiescing pony along the way who could point him in the right direction. He had been summoned before the royal couple for an audience that morning pertaining to his new duties as the Royal Magic Instructor. The title made him feel rather smug about himself. He hoped he would get to teach a lot of students.

He had set out early to try to find some food before the meeting, but Incense had left no instructions or directions, and so he had been left to his own devises. It was a good thing too that he had left so early, he was beginning to suspect that even with the help of a map navigating these hallways would prove a lengthy endeavour.

It seemed as if luck, however, had finally decided to grace him with its presence. He ran into a scruffy looking donkey janitor about halfway back to his own rooms who gave him very detailed instructions, both to the kitchen and then to the audience chamber from there.

The kitchen was a large room filled with food, ponies, and madness. Fires were burning everywhere, and Teach counted at least twenty giant pots of porridge. Unicorn chefs were swinging knives wildly through the air, slicing apples and throwing them in with the porridge, and a line of golden clad pegasus guards were lining the far wall, waiting for a bowl of hot breakfast. Teach grimaced at the scene, concerned with the time it may take before he could sit and eat, and weighing the pros and cons of skipping breakfast before such a crucial meeting.

He was about to turn and leave when a dishevelled grey earth pony with a tomato cutie mark and a monstrous red toque appeared. He was balancing a steaming bowl of apple porridge and a pitcher of milk on one hoof, which Teach found very impressive.

“New guy, eh?” The chef said, much to quickly. Teach nodded slowly. “Figured, what with you standing around looking like an idiot and all,” the chef said the last with a huge friendly grin, and Teach was not quite sure whether he should be upset or not. “Here, for you.” The red toqued pony placed the food on a nearby table and took of as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Teach to wonder if all the ponies in the palace were as rude as Firefly and the newly encountered chef.

He ate as quickly as he dared without upsetting his stomach, and had to drink the milk straight from the pitcher, as he had not been given a cup. He didn't really mind. Etiquette was obviously not valued very much in the kitchen, as the quickly growing number of guard ponies were readily demonstrating.

Having finished his meal, and feeling much better, he hastily retreated from the feeding zoo, fearing that a stray piece of food might accidentally find its way into his mane and ruin his appearance for the impending audience. The walk to the audience chamber was long, and involved climbing more sets of stairs than should be legally allowed in one building. Teach failed to run into many other ponies, something he was very grateful for. He was in pitiful shape, and he would prefer not to let every working pony in the castle know just how pitiful.

Eventually he found himself face to face with a short and extremely extravagant flight of stairs. They were, much like the rest of the castle, hewn from veined marble, and were carpeted in a deep a brilliant shade of red. The railings were covered in all manner of gold lining with finials shaped to resemble majestic birds in flight. At the top of those steps lay the audience chamber. They were too high for him to be able to see the entrance itself, and for a moment he was not entirely sure he wanted to. Teach scolded himself for his lack of courage and generally un-coltish behaviour. This was a great opportunity, and an honour seldom bestowed on any pony.

He took a deep breath and placed his hoof down on the first step of the stairwell. Or at least he tried. His hoof came down on something soft and wet that made a strange bleating sound as he pushed down. He recoiled in horror and reared up on his hind legs to get a good view of the revolting thing lying on the step before him. It was hideous, and it smelled just as bad. The first comparison Teach could think of was road-kill. He had seen tiny animals unfortunately caught under a wagon wheel by the side of the road that looked identical to the dark furry mess on the stairs.

He gagged and had to turn his head away to calm his stomach. He hoped sincerely that his hoof had not been infected by something unpleasant from touching the thing. Then he remembered his unfortunate fall before breakfast and realized the thing in front of him was probably what he had tripped on. This raised two very concerning questions in Teach's mind. Firstly, how had it disappeared after he had first tripped over it, and secondly, was it still alive? If it was still alive he was obligated to help it, no matter how revolting it may be. He looked around to see if there was anypony around to give him a hoof, but came up empty.

He grimaced and tapped the soggy pile tentatively with an outstretched hoof, trying to keep as much distance between it and himself as possible. It gurgled and oozed a liquid that was uncomfortably similar to blood. Teach pulled his hoof back immediately and looked around once more for some assistance. Perhaps there would be some guards at the top of the stairwell.

He did his best to step around the bleeding mess and hurried up the stairs. He was breathing heavily when he got to the top, but quickly looked around for somepony to help. He was immediately rewarded. Standing on either side of a massive and ornately decorated double door were a pair of pegasus guards.

“Ex... excuse me, gentlecolts, but ah... I do believe there is a wounded creature at the base of these stairs that is in need of immediate medical attention,” Teach sounded awkward, and was still panting, but the guards must have heard the urgency in his voice because they didn't hesitate a second before flying down the stairs so fast Teach almost got swept along. Once the wind had settled he turned and made his way back down at a much slower pace.

He was shocked to see that the wounded creature was gone, having left only a clearly visible puddle of blood behind. The guards were staring at it intently, as if trying to force it to yield some secret about what had happened.

“There's no trail,” said the one to Teach's left, while gesturing at the blood on the step. “So it must have teleported away from here.” The other guard nodded.

“We need to alert the castle to the possibility of an intruder,” said the one who had just nodded. Teach swallowed and tried to look less faced than he was by the rather horrifying situation.

“Ahm, I don't believe whatever it was poses any threat,” he said, trying to steady his voice. “It looked severely injured, and it has obviously lost a lot of blood. A teleportation spell requires a lot of effort, so it is most likely exhausted, and even closer to death than it was a minute ago. Maybe the priority should be to find it and provide it aid?” When he finished talking the two guards exchanged quizzical looks and then shrugged.

“If you say so,” the left one said. “But even so, we can't completely discard the possibility of this thing posing a threat.”

“Of course,” Teach said, smiling and nodding, but feeling rather sick. The guards whispered back and forth for a second before the one who had just addressed Teach took off at breakneck speed. The other one nodded compassionately at Teach and spoke.

“I assume you were heading for the audience chamber?” he half asked, half stated. “If so come with me, I'll let you in.” Teach thanked him and followed the guard back up the stairs. His legs were getting sore from all this climbing. He shook his head and tried to regain his composure. He had been the one to suggest the little creature had posed no threat, but the thing had still made him feel uneasy. Additionally any teleportation spell that was strong enough to get out from the immediate area undetected required no small amount of magic, it was concerning.

They reached the giant door and the guard gave Teach a look as if to say “ready when you are”. Teach adjusted the scarf he was wearing and tossed his bangs quickly with the tip of his hoof. It simply would not do to be received in such high circles looking anything less than pristine, and he was feeling particularly dishevelled at the moment. After a few seconds he gave up on feeling any better and smiled at the guard. The intricately gilded doors opened soundlessly when the guard pushed, and revealed one of the most breathtaking sights Teach had ever seen.

The audience chamber was massive. The supporting pillars running down the carpeted walk way on each side towered so high that Teach almost lost his balance trying to see the ceiling. It was wide too, with the area behind the pillars on each side obviously reserved for the noblepony socialites who frequented such places. Small circular tables dotted the area, and every single one was crowded with unicorns and pegasi in royal livery. Teach even spotted one or two earth ponies.

The walls of the chamber were lined with stained glass panels depicting every major equestrian historical event that Teach could think of, and the sun that shone through them bathed the ponies below in every shimmering hue of the rainbow. From the ceiling hung chandeliers, spaced at even intervals all the way from the entrance up to the dais.

The room looked grey and drab in comparison to what he saw there. Upon the dais were situated two large thrones, so covered in gold and jewels that Teach was uncertain as to whether there was any wood in them at all. In the throne on Teach's right side sat Tianma, Queen of Equestria. She shone in a brilliant shade of... light. Not a colour, just radiance and warmth, as if somepony had pulled back the blinds to reveal the sun, except now it was an Alicorn instead. She was regal beyond measure, taller than Teach by a head and a half at least, and with wings so soft looking they shimmered. Her horn was just as majestic, long and curved. He had never seen a horn like it before. The Queen was smiling, gently, and Teach had to do a quick double take to make sure he hadn't melted into the floor.

Next to the Queen sat King Aethon. The good feeling the Queen had inspired within Teach went away as soon as he lay eyes on his King. The Alicorn, the word seemed clumsy and inadequate in Teach's mind, was the single most awe inspiring thing he could imagine. Much like his wife, the King lacked any normally definable colour patten, instead molten rock and fire slowly shifted about beneath his coat. Every hair was clearly visible, he was so finely groomed, but it appeared as if a volcano was erupting just beneath his skin. Even folded up the infernal being's wings were enormous, and Teach shuddered at the thought of what the King's wingspan might be. He couldn't shake the feeling that if the King actually tried to fly the entire palace would incinerate around him. Unlike the Queen, who's smile promised milk and honey, Aethon's face was hard, and his eyes radiated an untamed wildness that made Teach's pulse race. He was scared.

He was pulled from his frightful stupor by a loud and clear voice to his immediate right.

“Dr. Saxon “Gearcrow” Teach of Ambleshire, Canterlot; Royal Magic Tutor!” The words echoed through the audience chamber, immediately silencing the murmur that had been ongoing since he had entered. Every pony was staring straight at him, and Teach was sure his face was redder than the tomato cutie mark wielding chef's hat that morning.

Not only had the announcer, a skinny looking tangerine earth pony with a trumpet on his flank, announced his much maligned nickname, he had also loudly proclaimed Teach's home town for everyone to hear. Teach wanted to dig a hole, hide in it, and never come back out. After a few seconds he could hear the subdued snickering pick up, and quite a few haughty scoffs.

Teach glared at the announcer as menacingly as he could, but the pony was either oblivious, or ignoring him. Swallowing his pride and anger he began the long walk up to the base of the dais. He was unsure if looking the rulers in the eye was rude, or if looking down was considered too weak. So he tried to look at their horns as a compromise. Queen Tianma's more than Aethon's. The King's horn looked as if it was spewing out small rivulets of lava almost continuously, and if he was going to be completely honest it unnerved him.

He finally reached the base of the dais and kneeled with one foreleg stretched out and the other one tucked beneath his chest. He knew at least that much about etiquette.  Some of the gathered nobleponies had returned to their conversations, but the majority of them were still observing the newcomer, curious as to the subject of this particular summons.

“THOU MAYEST STAND!” Teach felt his eardrums come dangerously close to shattering as a wave of burning hot air ploughed through him, threatening to knock him on his dock. The voice was as terrifying as the King it belonged to, and Teach had to make a concentrated effort not to wet himself. It took a couple of seconds longer than it normally would have, but he stood and looked up at the King. “WE ARE PLEASED THAT THOU HAST CHOSEN TO ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE WITH WHICH WE HAVE CHARGED THEE!” Again Teach had to struggle to remain standing, and this time he though he could smell the the tip of his mane singe. Queen Tianma laid a hoof gently on her husband's forearm and whispered something Teach could just barely hear.

“Darling, we are indoors, and this is not a public announcement, there is no need to scare the poor colt senseless.” Teach blushed, and King Aethon cleared his throat in a manner that indicated he felt just as embarrassed. It was strange, but rather comforting, to see such a normal emotion coming from such an incredible source. Teach tried not to smile too much, he did not want to be rude.

“As I was saying,” the King continued, with a glance at his wife. “We are very happy that you have accepted this assignment Dr. Teach, but I understand that you are still unsure as to the particulars of said job?” The last part was phrased as a question, but it took Teach a second to realize that he was expected to answer.

“That is correct your Highness.” Teach bowed his head as he spoke for good measure. The King nodded.

“There were several reasons the Queen and I could not divulge the details of this assignment prior to finding a suitable candidate you see. Foremost amongst those reasons was security. Neither my wife nor myself wished for any unsavoury types to be attracted to the job because of the opportunities it presents.” The King's voice had become even more serious as he spoke, something Teach had thought impossible, which had caused every noblepony in the building to pay much more attention. Teach felt a few beads of sweat form on his brow. The King straightened himself in his throne and gazed down at the magic professor from what he felt was an unfair height advantage.

“You will have only one pupil, our daughter, Princess Celestia.” There was an audible gasp from the assembled observers, followed by hushed murmuring. Teach stared at the King, then the Queen, then turned to stare at the tangerine announcer pony at the door, then back at the King. He felt a senseless smile creep across his face, and through the muffled distance he heard a pony laugh. For some reason he thought it sounded a lot like himself, but he wasn't quite sure. Things were getting darker, he wondered if someone was turning off the light really slowly. Now he was staring at the ceiling, but he couldn't remember looking up. He felt something hard hid him on the side of his face, and winced as the loose tooth from earlier in the morning popped out. He couldn't see, but he could feel it leave his mouth.

A painfully sharp odour brought him back to. His eyes shot open to see a gold maned and white coated unicorn mare shoving a vial of smelling salts practically straight up his muzzle. He spluttered and pushed her hooves aside, standing up shakily. Suddenly everpony knowing his nickname, or where he was from, didn't matter that much, passing out in front of the King and Queen seemed a far more egregious offence. The unicorn placed a hoof on his shoulder as support. He silently thanked her. The King's brows were furrowed, but Teach was not at all sure what emotion it signified. The queen was smiling, but that was just as cryptic.

“My pardons your Majesties,” Teach said when he felt he was safe to talk without slurring his words, or sounding like an idiot. “I meant no disrespect, I was just somewhat overwhelmed by the honour of being entrusted with such a special and important task.” The King nodded at Teach.

“Indeed, such a response was not entirely unanticipated, hence Snow Fall here and the smelling salts.” The King gestured to the pony supporting Teach as he spoke. “Anyway, you must understand, we did not want to risk somepony trying to obtain this position with the intent of getting close to the Princess and harming her. That is why we kept it a secret. Surely you understand?” Teach nodded at the Kings words and shifted to stand under his own weight. Snow Fall shot him a doubting glance, but let him stand.

“Of course my liege,” he said. A different feeling was beginning to bubble inside of him now, slowly suffocating the shock and the doubt; excitement, and pride. He, Teach, would be tutoring the next ruler of Equestria in the arts of magic. What looked suspiciously much like a smirk played across the King's face.

“You will be required to swear your life to the service of our daughter,” Queen Tianma said, without her customary smile. “Even above my husband and I. You will watch over her every day, and instruct her in magic, as well as any other subjects you, or the two of us,” she gestured to herself and the King, “deem necessary. You will also serve as a body guard should the need present itself, and will be expected to lay down your life for your Princess if any situation should arise calling for such an act of valour. Do you understand everything I have told you Saxon Teach?” Teach's grin reached from ear to ear. He bowed at Queen Tianma.

“Indeed I do your Majesty.”

“Then kneel, and swear your fealty to Princess Celestia of Equestria,” the King commanded. Teach did as he was told, and began to recite the pledge after the King. The grin on his face never faded.