Etiamsi Omnes, Ego Non- The Avatars

The Dead One, the Stag King of the fallen land, sat on his throne, looking decidedly more petulant than he usually did; it was no small feat. He was confronted with numerous severed heads, but they were not of females, as he typically received. Seven stallions and one caribou. Apparently part of a single small detachment. He was not disturbed by their decapitation, as the rebellion was almost famous for it. It was their faces.

Each one was... smiling. Or doing some unutterably grotesque perversion of a smile. It look a lot to make the caribou dislike grotesque perversions. But they despised what smiles usually meant, and there was something to the looks that was just hideous. Sardonic smiles, fixed, twisted rictus grins graced their faces. A mix of horror and humor remained on the buck. He looked like he had literally died laughing against his will.

“Why have you brought me these grinning fools?” The Stag King rumbled, eyes narrowing dangerously.

The caribou buck who headed the procession of ponies holding the heads shivered, if only briefly, as he bowed deeply before his tyrant-god. “They were found out on a patrol route. No bodies were near. Just the heads. They wanted us to find them, my lord.”

“Why do they smile like this? I know that ponies used to be so weak as to be stupidly cheery but why does a noble buck look as though he is laughing his life away?” The Stag King queried.

“We had reports of... madly laughing ponies...” the caribou swallowed heavily. “Smiling, grinning wildly. The free ponies seemed to be going insane. We also heard tell of some kind of machine that made them that way.”

“Did you seek to capture it or destroy it?” The Stag King asked.

“We were going to see what effect it had. Presumably it was to try and make the miserable nothings feel joy,” the buck explained. “But it seems... it was a trap. They sacrificed the sanity of their own number to lure in a patrol and use the hideous machine on them. They smiled and laughed themselves to death, rendered insane and helpless as they were beheaded and set out as a warning.”

“These rebels try me. They will not like what they find of my mettle,” the Stag King grumbled out, gripping the arms of his throne all the tighter. “Who ordered the search?”

Silence answered the question.

“Who ordered the search?!” The Stag King roared out, his reverberating and powerful scream rumbling through the floors and walls of the palace.

“Ah! It was... a directive from one of the lesser commanders!” The buck cried out, holding his ears and bowing lower. “It's hard to know these things but I carried out the investigation.”

“Do you have such authority, to search for this device?” The Stag King questioned.

“W-well, I... I do in a sense but I.... no, I never would have... it was from... I was...” the buck tripped over his own words as he realized the inefficient command chain would not serve as concealment for his error.

“As I suspected!” The Stag King roared, slamming his fists down on the arms of his throne. “You thought to lie to the face of a living god!”

“No my pitiless lord! I... I misremembered orders! There was sex, and some abuse and I lost track of things...” the buck feebly explained.

“Guards! Drop those worthless heads and take this simpering failure to the facility,” the Stag King demanded, looking coldly on the horror-struck buck.

The heads fell with meaty thumps and simply rolled away as the stallions took hold of the buck. “No! No your pitiless majesty! Please, I was doing this for your glory!”

“Take the failure away! He can serve my glory as a doe,” the Stag King rumbled, waving a hand dismissively.

“No! Not reassignment! Not reassignment! No! You cannot do it! No!” The doomed buck screamed in soul-torn terror as he was dragged away. He kicked and thrashed and did all he could to free himself, but he was no match for the small contingent of guards.

The Stag King regarded the fallen heads, eyes narrowed as he contemplated what they meant. He turned to another buck who was standing stiffly near the throne. “You! Prepare to deliver a decree!”

The buck snapped into action, bowing deeply and nodding his head. “What is your decree, pitiless god-king?”

“Let it be hereby known, do not engage with ponies who are not tightly controlled who seem overly happy. Do not follow them, do not try to capture them, do not make an effort to discover the source of that state. It seems the rebel fools have a machine that will sap the superior male mind and make them equal to a stupid cunt. Make note of the location for a concentrated strike using only a sufficiently large detachment of troops in heavy armor and with magic,” the Stag King intoned.

The buck paused for a moment as he listened and made every effort to remember the decree. “It shall be so delivered, my pitiless god-king. I will ensure the soldiers and guards know this and obey. May I spread the word of this new wisdom, sire?”

“Go and tell all what I have decreed, and make certain they know to obey, or the consequences will be as suitably dire as disobedience to a living god can be. You saw the penalty for such,” the Stag King rumbled.

“I hear and I obey, my pitiless god-king, and go now to see to it your orders are obeyed as the law they are,” the buck declared, ashing from the throne room while remaining bowed.

The Stag King barely noted the leaving of the buck with a wave of his hand. He was regarding the rictus smiles again, looking on them contemptuously. No one made feminine fools of his subjects, except him, and as punishment. The rebels were intruding into the territory of his fiat, his power. They were being too bold and presumptuous.

They had already made a mockery of him by wiping out a detachment sent to the fish-village to destroy it. He couldn't spare another, not if they all died too. He would win eventually, but at such a cost that he would scarcely know he had won. “Impudent, galling beasts...” he growled into the stillness of the throne room. “At least I know I have stolen their weak and worthless happiness...”

“Dr. Mondlicht, is everything prepared for general use?” Deep inside the rebel underground the Black Knight was looking over a large and complex machine that seemed to all come to and end at a modest dish pointed towards the next room, which was simple, large stone cube with some doors.

“Yes, sir, it is,” replied Dr. Autumn Mondlicht, the rebellion's head scientist and former head of Paddock Fifty-One. The black-coated, midnight-blue-maned Roani unicorn still wore her usual green scrubs and dingy lab coat. She was giving the machine a final work-over with tweezers and a screwdriver. “Following proof of concept in the hidden lab I had the whole thing carefully transported. It should work with groups as well as it did with the individuals. The signal strength should be sufficient to create a room-sized field. We'll put in chairs and cushions for relaxation later. Right now we just have to set up the system.”

“And Ruthenium?” The black Knight asked, looking around.

“After a few choruses of thanks for showing how she could help so many folks she went to get some food and have her suit tuned,” Autumn laughed. “She's quite the character. She would have made a great Roani, once upon a time.”

“She could again, once his war is won,” the Black Knight noted.

“Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, if the wheel turns so,” Autumn mused, smiling as she caught sight of the silvery Diamond Dog. “Speak of her and she appears.”

“Dog ears sharp, know when talking,” Ruthenium said with a bright smile. She was once more wearing her suit of tines and crystals, and still had on her Element. She was also drinking out of a bright pink plastic cup. “Mm, delicious drink. Not have before, what is?”

The Black Knight took a sniff near the cup and considered. “Smells like one of our ration drinks. Grains and free minerals, plus Changeling honey to give it some decent flavor.”

“Must thank Changelings, is good,” Ruthenium said, finishing off the beverage and stepping up to the machine. “Like before? Put in element, touch and concentrate?”

“It's just that easy,” Autumn said. “We'll try to be as efficient as possible. Maximize space usage, be careful with time, maybe implement schedules or designated periods as suggested by a therapist.”

“Never knew could schedule being happy,” Ruthenium said, with some mirth.

“Dr. Mondlicht is skilled in many things. If she says it can be done, frankly, I think we should believe her,” the Black Knight said with a smile.

“It should be ready. Place your element in the receptacle as before and prepare to activate,” Autumn said, stepping back and dropping her tools into a nearby tool chest.

Ruthenium slipped off her necklace and slid the whole thing into a provided cradle. She lightly placed a hand on the pendant and used her other hand to start flicking her tines and ringing her gems. The metal of the pendant gave off a soft, silvery glow while the machine hummed to life, parts turning and energy thrumming through it.

“Send in the first group!” The Black Knight called through a square opening, towards one of the openings in the stone room they were all observing.

A small collection of folks entered. A few mares, two stallions, a female donkey, a male Changeling and a female Diamond Dog. They looked fairly grim.

“I hope this works. I could use a lift,” the Changeling said. “It's hard adjusting to a place when love used to float free like the breeze.”

“I don't even care if I'm having my brain messed with. At least this is a positive messing, not like what they do,” a unicorn mare said.

“You know it's bad when even a donkey gets a bit bitter about it,” the donkey stated, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against a wall.

“Raise the energy to activate the field,” Autumn said to Ruthenium, flicking a few switches on the machine and twisting a few dials.

“Right, do now...” Ruthenium said, playing her suit a little faster and closing her eyes. The silvery glow grew brighter, and a distinct, low-pitched hum emerged from the machine, while the dish began to emit a wavering field of energy into the room.

“You should know, this isn't anything like what the caribou do,” the Black Knight said to the ones in the room, who were being washed in the energy field. “This doesn't force a new thought into your head, nor does it seal off a part of the brain. It opens things. There are certain blocks that come up from grimness and dark times. There is an idea that one cannot be allowed to be happy. This field opens it up. It's called the Silver Lining Machine because you finally clear the cobwebs enough to know that silver linings exists, that there can be things worth being happy about. Now you choose to be happy or not. Your mind can accept it's okay to be, so you're allowed to be so. But as with everything, you have the autonomy.”

The dour collection of folks let themselves be washed by the wave in silence, before the first small smiles appeared, first on the Changeling, then one of the mares. The smiles grew, and moved from figure to figure. The last one to smile was the donkey, but she broke into the biggest one in the room, and stretched her arms out wide, as though the energy wave was a refreshing rainstorm and she wanted as much as she could get. “Now that... that's what I call a silver lining.”

“A success, I would say,” Autumn said, observing the settings on the device and occasionally looking at Ruthenium. “You're really very clever with that. Who made your music suit?”

“Oh, did self,” Ruthenium answered, never missing a beat of her one-handed playing. “Liked how tines sound; Dogs know metal. Liked how gems sound; Dogs know gems. Was very easy and very fun.”

“I admire someone who regards an activity like this as easy,” Autumn said with a nod. “Intellectualism is often a lonely thing, so finding someone else who finds didactic pursuits simple is a treasure.”

“Yes, is lonely sometimes when not act like others,” Ruthenium noted. “Still loved, had friends, but too cheery, had much joy, sing songs, but still learn lessons.”

“And look how it has paid off,” Autumn noted, pointing to the smiling folks in the next room. “Another Element lives, and those folks are happy.”

“Yes, is good. Happy folk mean old world come back,” Ruthenium said, sagely. “Will stand here night and day if must. Need ration drinks and five minutes for bathroom few times a day.”

“Your dedication is admirable but not necessary. We'll work out a sensible schedule, don't worry. We have many, many other pressing matters. Plus you probably want to walk around and entertain,” Autumn noted.

“Speaking of 'other pressing matters', did you do it?” The Black Knight asked Autumn.

“Oh yes. It was... well, I'm a scientist, not a soldier but I did what was necessary,” Autumn responded with a shiver. “The rictus grins were easy, thanks to the Mysterious Mare-Do-Well knowing the precise formula for strychnine, so we didn't need the plant. The buck was a bit harder. But nitrous oxide and small magical charges kept him laughing until he suffocated. I would imagine they've been found, after we paraded those actors around and had that dummy machine all made up.”

“This is a war of illusions and shadows, more propaganda than direct assault, in the main,” the Black Knight said. “We deceive and misdirect, give impressions that aren't true to influence actions. As we are small and they are large we need every edge we can muster. By now the Stag King probably thinks we have a machine that can make folks insane, and that we plan to do it to his troops.”

“Machine not make crazy. Make happy. Is good machine,” Ruthenium noted.

“A very good machine,” the Black Knight concurred.

“There's room in there for you to take a break. I'm sure you could use it,” Autumn said.

“For reasons both personal and classified I cannot allow myself to take advantage of the Silver Lining Machine,” the Black Knight said, suddenly turning serious.

“Oh... sounds... serious,” Autumn mumbled, somewhat taken aback by the abrupt shift and mysterious nature of the statement.

“See smile much, but could still smile more with machine,” Ruthenium suggested.

“I have my own system for keeping the smile on my face. Don't worry. You just keep working out here, doing good for all who need it,” the Black Knight said with a warm smile. “In fact, I'll go to that now. Please excuse me.”

With the sounds of parting ringing behind him the Black Knight made his way through the maze of Dog-cut corridors until he reached a nondescript section of lonely tunnel. A tap on certain spaces of the wall with a crystal caused the stone to part, revealing a small, dark side-passage. Stepping into it caused the wall to close once more, and leave no trace of the opening.

The passage was cramped, and lightless, the Black Knight making his way confidently along with his eyes closed. He moved down and up steps, along well-remembered twists and turns. It was a circuitous route that he remembered from the world before, a path he had walked so many times it became second nature to him, all lovingly recreated by numerous Dog masons who never understood the combined plan.

The crystal again tapped spaces on a wall, letting the Black Knight enter a room of muted light. Magical crystals glowed inside lamps whose glass globe covers were made of smoked glass. There was a somber, hushed and reverent feeling in the still atmosphere. The small room had few things within. A large, battered, royal blue cushion that looked like a refugee from Canterlot Palace sat in the center of the room, facing towards a large table. The walls were hung with damaged standards, also seemingly rescued from Canterlot. The standard of Celestia. The Standard of Luna. The standard of Equestria.

There was also a plaque on the wall, made of the finest quality silver and gold, by caring smiths and sculptors, it was made in the shape of an unrolled scroll, with words etched onto the polished surface.

The Prices of Command

You stand alone forever. None must know your mortality.

You will see the ones who laughed at breakfast die before dinner.

As none can know some reasons, they do all duty trusting you alone.

Mistakes are written in blood. You won't pay the price, but you pay all the same.

You only hope you are forgiven. You cannot ask those who could forgive.

You must do what you must. It is you, or some other.

Salute your ghosts. You owe them an endless debt.

The Black Knight fell to his knees on the cushion, and bowed his head as he faced the table. When he looked up he could see the small collection of objects that rested there.

An ebony and silver nocturlabe on a silver chain sat on the edge of the table, looking polished and bright. A brass and steel cage of modest height and width sat behind the nocturlabe, the bars crossing each other, square gaps large enough to show what was within. It was a strange device, composed mostly of bronze pipes and steel fittings, one of the last examples of a gas-using projectile launcher, and it was badly beaten up, as though it had been ripped from a mounting by a savage kick. Beside it, on the floor of the cage, a conical lead projectile. The cage was securely locked, and the key for it rested right beside the cage.

The Black Knight mostly seemed to be meditating, his head down and eyes closed. But now and again he would look up at the cage, and the key, and the innocuous device within. “It would be so easy. So very easy. That is what the Dead One preaches,” he whispered to the cage. “No effort. No work. The brute force solution of slavery and sexual bribery. You are a lie. A figment. A shade. This easy solution is the solution of death and misery. It is living in squalor, and for some living in everything from abject terror to the Tartarus of their own shattered mind. You are a nothing, easy way. And I will never take you.”

Just saying it, asserting it so strongly and so surely had an immediate effect on the Black Knight.

He smiled.